Today was a super day. A day in the saddle and great to be cycling again and having a rest from walking.

We picked up hire bikes at 9am. We knew they would want photo ID and had our passports but they wanted to keep them until we returned the bikes. We were reluctant to do this so the guy lent me a bike to go back to the guesthouse to get my driver’s licence out of the safe. Interestingly there was no paperwork to read or sign. No waivers, insurance, indemnity etc. Just pay your money, leave your licence and go. €15 for 24 hours. We headed out of town on a cycle path to Killarney National Park about 6km away.

Three major sites today. First up, the Franciscan Friary of Muckross, founded about 1445. The community here were Observantine Franciscans so-called because of their rigid observance of the order’s rules on matters such as diet, clothing and possession of private property (no mention of chastity!). Muckross was suppressed by Henry VIII, re-established in 1612 and the friars eventually driven out by Cromwell in 1652. It is on many different levels and you can go up and down circular stairs, through tunnels etc. It has a very intimate and lovely cloister and in the middle of the cloister a large yew tree. This tree is thought to be well over 600 years old, so it could be that the cloister was built around an existing tree.

About a kilometre away was Muckross House. Built 1839 – 43 by the Herberts in the Elizabethan style. 26 bedrooms and 62 chimneys. The Herberts made their money by copper mining in the district. After being owned by the Guinness family and an American mining magnate who gave the estate to his daughter as a wedding gift, the house and estate were presented to the Irish Nation to become a national park. I think the first in Ireland. We didn’t do the tour inside but walked and cycled around the vast and immaculate gardens and grounds. The house faces the Middle Lake, or Muckross Lake and we were able to cycle around the lake on a very quiet one way, one lane road. On the opposite side of the lake from the house, which you can be taken to on little boats, is Dinnis Cottage where you can enjoy morning tea.

Third stop, back closer to town was Ross Castle. Probably built in the late 15^th century it is a typical example of the stronghold of Irish Chieftains during the Middle Ages. The castle is believed to be the last significant fortress to fall to Cromwell. It is a tower house surrounded by a ‘bawn’ which is a defensive wall surrounding the large rectangular tower. The bawn had a smaller round tower on each corner. Two of these survive. Ross Castle is located on Lough Leane (Lower Lake) and from here there are boat rides out onto the lake.

We had the bikes for five and a half hours but didn’t do huge kilometres. Just slowly cruising along dodging the jaunting cars and the horse crap on the paths. No wind, lots of sun, and 27 degrees. The lass who served us in Murphy’s Bar kept going on and on about the three days of summer. She’s been waiting two and a half years for this. We have a theory (untested so unproven), that if you came to Ireland for six weeks and only ate in establishments called Murphy’s, you would eat very well.

Whether walking or cycling we usually get to our room mid afternoon. Barbara to lie on the bed and blob, Paul to lie on the bed and blog.

I think I am slowly falling in love with Ireland. Not a passionate sensual infatuation as with Spain, but a developing realisation this a lovely place with lots of familiar and comfortable qualities.

Today we caught the bus from Tralee to Killarney, just a 40 minute ride. We have two nights in the Killarney Lodge Guesthouse, an elegant and charming house full of fine antiques, beautiful paintings and open fire places.

We arrived about midday and thought we would just have to drop our bags and go see the town for a while, but they welcomed us and said our room was ready and would we like tea/coffee and biscuits. We have a room about three times the size of the one we had last night.

Killarney is principally a tourist town being on the Ring of Kerry, and a naturally attractive location on the shore of Lough Leane, part of Killarney National Park and the Killarney Lakes. It has a history of tourism going back to 1747 and in 1861 was visited by Queen Victoria and entourage. With the exception of Dublin, Killarney has the most hotel beds of any town or city in Ireland, and the population is only about 12,000. Killarney is another buzzing town with brightly painted shops, pubs, cafes, hotels, restaurants and tourist attractions. It is famous for its ‘jaunting cars’, horse-drawn carts, operated by local jarvies.

We have had a walk around town and sorted out a bike hire shop for tomorrow when we will go out into the Park to see Ross Castle and Muckross House. It is a stunning blue sky day, warm and no wind so we had lunch sitting under an avenue of cherry trees in the grounds of Killarney House looking at Purple Mountain and the MacGillicuddy’s  Reeks (the Black Stacks) a mountain range that includes the highest peak in Ireland, Carrauntoohil, at 1038m. It was so peaceful and relaxing listening to the clip clop, clip clop of the jaunting cars.

Three years ago Barbara and Jo went for a ride in the jaunting cars and Barbara wants to go again to see if the jokes of the jarvies are still the same.

Today is Father’s day in Ireland and lots of families are out picnicking and all the pubs and restaurants are advertising father’s day lunch specials.

Irish proverb for the day: “The older the fiddle, the sweeter the tune”.

In Ireland it is difficult to get early morning starts. The usual breakfast time is 8.30 to 10.00am and sometimes they don’t want to start until 9.00am. It is also slow because they individually cook each breakfast and often there is just one person on duty. This means we often don’t get away until about 9.15am or later. You could forego breakfast but the villages are few and far between and pubs that serve food for lunch or dinner are almost never open for breakfast.

In Spain it was important to have early starts in order to beat the heat and walk as far as possible in the cool of the morning. There were villages almost every 5 km and they were set up for pilgrims who had started at the crack of dawn and wanted breakfast on the go. Heat is not an issue here in Ireland so far but sometimes you do want to start while it is not raining and get as far as possible dry. Or while the air is still as the wind gets up later in the morning.

We imagined it would always be “Full Irish Breakfast” which is a fry up of bacon, egg, sausage, tomato. baked beans, black and white pudding. But there is usually a choice: eggs anyway you like, omelettes, potato waffles, pancakes with fruit, French toast, fresh salmon, etc. Always there are cereals, yoghurt, fruit juice, toast, tea or coffee. Often fruit and small cakes. So no need to go hungry at breakfast.

Today we woke to brilliant sunshine and only a gentle breeze and it quickly warmed up to a beautiful day. It was a short day, we only walked about 10 km from Castlegregory to Camp from where we caught the bus the remaining 18 km to Tralee. We had heard the track from Camp to Tralee was the wettest and muddiest on the whole Dingle Way and there were three unbridged rivers to wade through. It also wasn’t very interesting, just crossing the lower slopes of the Slieve Mish hills parallel to the road. We had completed the Camp to Camp circuit of the Dingle Peninsular so decided to keep our energy and relatively clean clothes for another day.

From Castlegregory it was about half an hour walk out of the village to the beach again. We passed a couple of camping grounds and a five metre high standing stone at Anghacasia. Unfortunately it was far off in a field and we couldn’t get very close. Standing stones date from at least the Bronze Age (from 2000 BC) and are thought to have been erected for ritual purposes. Isolated tall stones may also have signified burial sites.

Our bus wasn’t until 2.10pm so had a very leisurely stroll along the beach just soaking up the sun. It was a Saturday so there were more families enjoying a day at the seaside, setting up deck chairs and all the paraphernalia that kids bring to the beach. Barbara had a paddle but although the water looked very inviting it was very cold. All too soon we had to leave the beach and passed by a nice little Church of Ireland chapel at Kilgobbin. We went to have a look inside and met three ladies doing a ‘spring clean’ They were pleased to take a break and have a chat with us.

We had a couple of hours to wait for the bus but were entertained for a while by a large group of walkers assembling at a petrol station/cafe/shop/community centre over the road. They were doing a 10 mile fund raiser hike in the hills for the Irish Kidney Association. We are now back at the Willows B & B in Tralee  – but in a different room. Our luggage wasn’t delivered until nearly 5pm so we were starting to get a bit agitated by that. Sometimes it does go missing. Tomorrow we get the bus to Killarney and then have a day off waliking before starting the Kerry Way.

Cloghane to Castlegregory 28 km

Today we went for a stroll on the beach. For seven hours. We have had enough of beach but there is more to come tomorrow.

From Cloghane we walked for about an hour on tarmac before reaching a vast expanse of sea and sky. Fermoyle Beach. Ireland’s longest walkable beach. 11 km to Fahamore. Along the landward side the beach was fringed by sand dunes covered in wiry marram grass. Above these was a backdrop of cloud topped mountains. Behind us was the bulk of Mt Brandon that we had crossed yesterday, also still covered in cloud. The sea had a small surf and very intense colours of green and blue. There were a few small streams to cross. Just large enough to be an entertaining obstacle to cross without getting your feet wet. There was a nice wind behind us so we had a gentle push to help us along.

Walking on the beach was easy. The sand was firm with few shells, stones or seaweed. We sometimes had to move up or down the beach to find the firmest path as even if you only sank 5 mm into the sand, it took a lot more energy. The beach seemed empty but over 2+ hours we saw a lot of activity. An elderly lady getting changed into a wet suit and going for a dip. Two guys windsurfing. A group of children with boogie boards overseen by a lifeguard. Three large horses out for a canter. The occasional dog walking its owner. At first there seemed to be nothing ahead of us but as we progressed a low finger of land seemed to rise out of the sea. This was a ‘tombolo’ stretching out from Castlegregory into the sea. This is a low finger of land made up of islands joined with bars built up from sand blown towards the shore.

This morning we had bought a “packed lunch” from the O’Connor’s Guesthouse. This consisted of a ham sandwich, a Kit Kat chocolate bar, a piece of fruit (Barbara an apple, Paul a pear) and a bottle of water. €6. We found some shelter from the wind and sun behind a block of concrete that was the end of a rainwater outlet and had a picnic.

Eventually we came to the end of the beach and reached the hamlet of Kilshannig. Here there were the ruins of an old church which had a seventh century slab in its graveyard, carved with the Greek letters chi-rho which symbolise Christ. We walked around the slightly higher ground of Kilshannig Point before dropping down onto another beach. This time only 2 km long. Well that was what the guide book said. We guessed it was more like 5 km long. But by now we were getting very tired and were having trouble even interpreting the notes. After yet another seemingly endless expanse of sand we eventually found the unmarked turn off to Castlegregory, and in the centre of the village came to Fitzgerald’s Pub. Our B & B is about a kilometre out of town so we decided to have an early dinner (vegetable soup followed by raspberry and apple crumble) so we wouldn’t have to come back.

Staggered to the B & B, another long but not too arduous day done. Our hostess, Maureen, welcomed us with a cup of tea and some fruit cake. All is good.

Feohanagh to Cloghane 25 km

Today we did a mountain traverse which some fellow travellers described as life threatening. Mind you they were Australians. We only walked 25 km but it took us 7 hours plus half an hour of stops. The most dramatic and challenging day so far. It was certainly the wettest and muddiest for our shoes.

From Feohanagh there was an hour of boggy and muddy farm tracks before starting the climb proper. It was straight up for about 2 hours. Steep at the beginning but easing off for a while before a long steep section up to the col. We were just following marker posts on open grass fields but the ground was saturated and very boggy. Almost like walking up a stream. There were great views back down to Smerwick Harbour before we got above the cloud and mist line. We had a nice wind behind us pushing us all the way up. The rise was 650 metres which is not huge but the ground being so wet made it quite an effort.

We overtook all but one American couple on the way up. When we reached the top they were wandering around looking for the first marker for the route down the other side. It was total white out and the wind was gale force. You couldn’t walk, the wind was so strong it made you run and we had to jam our walking poles into the ground to slow us down. We looked around for a bit but decided we didn’t want to lose contact with the last marker we had seen at the summit, or the American couple, so went back to the top. We knew the route down was initially very steep. A young European couple arrived next and the six of us all fanned out in a line and started searching. Eventually the route was found and we started descending together. It was steep, very muddy and frankly treacherous. Two lost their footing and did hilarious slides down on their butts.

We got down out of the wind as fast as we could. At some large rocks we stopped for a tepid coffee and something to eat and a bit later at a stone farm building stopped for a rest. Most people seemed to stop here to get some respite from the wind. From here the going was pretty easy on a farm road all the way down into the valley of the Owennafeana River and at the coast the hamlet of Brandon. On the way down we saw pyramids of peat that had been cut and were drying ready for being bagged and taken away. At Brandon we bought some real hot coffee and banana bread ( it was now about 3.15 pm). This was after 19 km and the first opportunity to buy any refreshments. Our guide notes then took us on a 6 km ‘scenic route’ with a lot of climbing to get to our destination of Cloghane. This was a waste of time and could have been totally eliminated by sticking to the road.

So now we are washed, and clean, and dry and warm and fed (great meal and a Tom Crean Brewery ale in the pub downstairs) but exhausted after one of those fantastic epic days.

Dunquin to Feohanagh 21km

Here at the Old Pier B & B in Feohanagh we have an attic bedroom with two large Velux roof windows. The rain is pouring down and making quite a racket on the glass. But we don’t care. We are snug as a bug in a rug. It was grey all day today but we beat the rain by about half an hour. When we arrived there were fresh scones and home made black current jam waiting for us. Delicious. Usually it is just a biscuit.

This was an outstanding scenic day. Today was easy walking on gentle gradients with a total ascent of only about 100 m. It was equal measure of walking on quiet minor roads, long sandy beaches and grassy paths on coastal cliff tops. I think our bodies and minds have settled into the relaxed rhythm of being pedestrian tourists.

From Dunquin we had a gentle climb to the top of a hill from which there was a long view down the coast. The dominant land forms were three headlands called the Three Sisters. They were to accompany us all day and our B & B looks out toward them over Smerwick Harbour.

The first surprise of the day was coming across the Louis Mulcahy Pottery. We went in because there was a cafe (and it was a good one) but were blown away by the enormous array of items, from candle holders to sinks, from vases to huge urns. Every piece is handmade and decorated, and expensive. Fortunately for our budget most pieces were too big to carry with us, although they did ship to anywhere in the world. There was an open workshop where you could watch the throwers at work and have a go yourself.

After the pottery we went down to the coast. Much of it is dramatically rugged but there are secluded little sandy beaches tucked away. We went to Clogher’s which looked idyllic but in fact had a vicious undertow. From here we were back on sealed minor roads and were passed by a group of children (and teachers) on bicycles. We think they were French as Barbara got lots of waves and smiles as she called out “allez, allez”.

At Smerwick Harbour we walked on two long sandy beaches. The tide was far out and there must have been 100 metres from the water to the sand dunes. We had a lunch stop at the sheltered end of one of them. The sealed roads are nice and even and clean to walk on but are hard on the feet. The firm sand of the beach is much softer and the feet take much less of a pounding. Smerwick is of Norse origin, from smaor (butter) and vick (harbour).

One of the beaches was called Wine Strand , its name recalling its history of smuggling. In my mind I associate smuggling with caves and the Famous Five or Secret Seven, but there are no caves here. At the end of the harbour at Murreagh is a jetty and some small fishing boats and from there we walked on a nice grass track on top of cliffs, high above the sea.

We regularly see other couples who are also walking the Dingle Way. We know each other well enough now to say hello and have a small chat about how it is going. There were five couples on the beach this afternoon, all with the same goal but strategically spaced apart to keep their independence.

We need a good sleep tonight. Tomorrow will be our most dramatic and challenging day, crossing the shoulder of Mt Brandon.

Dingle to Dunquin 21 km

For the first time on this walk we cast a shadow today, and felt the warmth of the sun on our back. Life was good. Within the first hour warm layers were taken off, sun glasses, sun block and sun hats were put on. Life was very good.

An interesting and at the end spectacular day with many interesting things along the way. Breakfast wasn’t until 8.30 and we had a look around Dingle and the marina so didn’t get under way till 10. The first few kms were on sealed minor roads before starting on a long steep climb up a grass farm track. After a while we came to a farm gate and obvious evidence of cows using the track. We dreaded a repeat of yesterday but then a narrow board walk appeared at its side. We were able to tip toe along this free of the cow crap.

At the top was a wonderful view down to a long sandy beach at Ventry. A steep descent to this and we sat on the stones and had a coffee and cookie. It was a lovely walk on the firm sand of the beach for two and a half kilometres. From the beach we headed inland and came to signs indicating a Lios, or ringed fort. For €2 you could enter the fort and feed the sheep. We passed on the sheep but had a look at the fort. Basically it is a circular area about 25 metres wide with traces of 3 or 4 huts surrounded by a grassy circular earthen bank 2.5 metres high and then a ditch about 4 metres below the top of the bank. They date from early Christian times and were probably built to enclose a family group’s buildings. It was fairly unimpressive in my opinion but Barbara thought it was okay. Inside the bank it was nice and sunny and out of the wind so we sat there and ate our lunch, and the sheep watched us.

After lunch a very steep climb up a grass track to high on a hill side. Great views back to Dingle, down to Ventry and out over the vast Atlantic Ocean. We followed a very fine dry stone wall (called a “dyke”?) which meandered across the hillside following the coast. This area has an incredibly dense concentration of Archaeological remains and we saw many good examples of clocháns. These are small round buildings known as ‘beehive huts’ and are superb examples of the skilful use of stone. The ones we saw were not roofed but they would have had circular layers, each slightly smaller than the one below, until finished with a single capstone. It is not known for sure what these were used for or who built them.

Eventually we rounded the end of the Peninsula at Slea Head and had a very steep descent to the jagged cliffs at Coumeenoole Bay. Off the end of the bay are the Blasket  Islands, the most westerly point in Europe – despite what the Romans thought at Finesterre in Spain. But then The Romans never came to Ireland. We had to walk along the road from here and came across a cyclist. He asked if we had some sun block, which we did and gave him some. Turned out he was doing a 2,500 km bike race around Ireland and had completed 1,700 km. He cycles 300 km at a time and sleeps for 3 hours. I think he was German, about 30 and looked in super shape. Although he didn’t know what day of the week it was. He had a racing bike with aero bars, lights, and very slim minimalist bags. We had been feeling a bit tired by then, but after talking to him realised we really hadn’t done that much.

Dunquin is a tiny hamlet and has no facilities. When we arrived at our B & B at 4.30pm the owner advised us the only food available was at a pottery/bookshop/cafe we had passed a kilometre back and they closed at 6.00pm. So we had a cup of tea and rested a bit before heading back. What a gem it was. Two dear ladies in their eighties were running the cafe and we had a delicious bowl of homemade vegetable soup. I followed that with the best rhubarb crumble in Ireland. One of the ladies explained she grew the rhubarb herself and the secret was she collected seaweed from the bottom of the cliffs to use as fertiliser. My day was made.

We didn’t really see a lot of Dingle. It is a gorgeous little town and on a sunny day would look stunning with lots of tourists, music, and all the hustle and bustle of shopping and eating and drinking.

It is the only town on the peninsular and has a nice protected marina. In the past it was a major trading port between Ireland, France and Spain. Wine was imported here and so inevitably there was also a lot of smuggling activity. Dingle was also the departing point for Pilgrims going over to Coruna and on to Santiago de Compostella. The Spanish even built a church here in Dingle for the pilgrims.

When we went out for dinner last night we were tired, it was windy, cold and lightly raining. So we went to the nearest pub which was right next door. After eating we had a quick look round but the streets were almost deserted and everything looked shut so we decided to wait and have another go in the morning.

Annascaul to Dingle 22km

A very undulating route today, we always seemed to be going up or down. Nothing too steep or long, just gently climbing in and out of valleys. I think we climbed over at least 25 stiles.

The first hour was on narrow sealed minor roads. A steady climb through farmland and then a quick descent to a small bay with large smooth round boulders. Overlooking the bay are the gaunt remains of Minard Castle. A sixteenth century tower castle partly destroyed by Cromwell’s forces in 1650. We spent half an hour there sitting on the stones having a coffee from our Kleen Kanteens  and a muffin we had brought with us from Annascaul.

From here more climbing and descending, still on minor roads to the hamlet of Lispole which has a stone church with a bit of an odd bell tower made of four buttresses, and an abandoned  old stone railway viaduct in fields. A bit of a diversion here was the only available place to get refreshments all day. We didn’t go through any other hamlets or villages today.

From here we left the nice clean sealed roads and were on gravel, stone, grass or mud farm lanes. Opening and closing farm gates and climbing stiles. Most of these lanes were used for moving cattle and were just rivers of muck. The brown mud and puddles weren’t too bad, it was the yellow and green ones that stank to high heaven you had to avoid. It wasn’t nice for clean city bred folks but there was no alternative and we just had to press on, getting more and more covered in muck.

Fortunately for the last hour of the day we were back on sealed minor roads as we descended from a saddle down into Dingle. We started at 9.00am and finished at 2.30pm with a half hour break at the castle, otherwise pretty much nonstop. We are not yet fully walking fit and into the rhythm of it yet, that will take another day or two, so we are a bit tired tonight.

We have decided the red poppies of the Camino have a slight edge in the ‘wild flower stakes’ over the purple fox gloves which are the predominant wild flower here so far. The edges of the lanes have the usual daisies, buttercups, blackberry, ferns etc but also masses of fuchsia hedges with their red tear drop flowers. These were introduced from a New Zealand species in the nineteenth century and have proliferated wildly in Ireland and are now considered an invasive pest.

The weather was just okay today. Windy again but not as strong as yesterday. Cloudy, looked like it wanted to rain, some drizzle, light rain in the afternoon but not enough to get really wet. A nice temperature for walking.

Annascaul is a tiny village with many very brightly painted houses and pubs, and known for its Tom Crean legacy.

Crean (1877 – 1938) was born near Annasaul and distinguished himself in Sir Robert Scott’s two Antarctic expeditions ( 1901-04 and 1912). He was a seaman and volunteered to join Scott’s first expedition when he was in New Zealand where Scott was refitting his ship on the way to Antarctica. He was a heroic member of Ernest Shackleton’s expedition to Antarctica in 1914 -1916.

In January 1915 Shackleton’s expedition ship Endurance became trapped in ice and later was crushed and sank. The crew camped on the ice until April 1916 when they made a seven day journey in three life boats to Elephant Island. There was little chance of being rescued from here as the island was far outside shipping channels. Shackleton and five others, including Crean, used one of the boats (the James Caird) to make a sixteen day 1500 km voyage to South Georgia where there was a whaling station. Eventually in August 1916 Shackleton returned to Elephant Island to rescue all the crew.

Crean served in the navy until the end of WW1 and then returned to Annascaul, married and opened the South Pole Inn. And that is where this evening we had dinner and a Guinness in his honour.