The day before we had inquired as to tours of the Ring of Kerry and the Dingle peninsula. The Ring of Kerry tour has attracted worldwide fame and attention, but we were looking to do the less popular (and more scenic) Dingle peninsula tour. County Kerry contains three peninsulas, the northernmost Dingle peninsula, the Iveragh sandwiched in the middle and home of the famous Ring of Kerry, and the southern Beara peninsula, good for mountain climbers. The Ring of Kerry is really just a 179 km road circling the Iveragh peninsula and looping back to Killarney town which rests just inland from the peninsula. The Dingle peninsula extends from Tralee, north of Killarney. Most tour companies had shut down for the season, and all of the ones we had asked about in town were running Ring of Kerry tours but had stopped offering Dingle tours. About to lose hope and book the Ring of Kerry, I asked the concierge at the hostel. Proving again to be immensely helpful, he called the local companies and eventually found one that was offering a Dingle tour. He even arranged for us to be picked up at the hostel.
We still had an hour or so until the guide came to pick us up, so we ventured down the street to Mckenzie's cafe, offering cheap breakfast. I got a mini, as opposed to a full, and tried a long donut from the pastry cabinet. The long donut was just that, but cut down the middle lengthwise and filled with cream and raspberry drizzle. Fresh whipped cream is a common dessert and scone accompaniment although it is usually unsweetened. People will use cream in place of butter on scones, and many pastries are cream-filled instead of jam-filled.
We returned to the hostel for a brief minute before the guide came to pick us up. His name was Mike, and he brought us out to his seven-seater van. At this point, I had the impression that we were picking up others and heading back to catch a tour bus. We drove around town and picked up two women from a hotel. They were travelers, a mom and her daughter, from Chicago, who had worked their way over to Killarney from Dublin. There was supposed to be another backpacker accompanying us on the trip, but he elected to do the Ring of Kerry tour. So, with a van and only four people, Mike set out with us for a nice, personalized tour of the Dingle peninsula. We drove on the road towards Tralee, turning instead at Castlemaine and heading towards the peninsula. In Castlemain there is a bar called Jack Duggans, named for the wild colonial boy who was born there. Duggans, of the ballad's fame, left for Australia from Castlemaine and lived there robbing from the rich to feed the poor. He was eventually shot and killed in an ambush by bounty hunters. In any case, there is a pub on the ground floor of his childhood home in Castlemaine.
Along the road, Mike began to paint of a picture of the economic problems Ireland was currently facing. We passed a street lined with bed and breakfasts, but of the ten or so buildings, only two remained open. Mike knew many of the owners personally and it hurt him to see so many local businesses close. We passed by Liebherr, a German factory that produces cranes, refrigerators, and other construction machinery. Mike explained that they employ many of the locals around Killarney and have done much to keep the region afloat. Mike used to work at a golf course adjacent to the factory that recently closed down, prompting him to go into the touring business. With a bit of resentment Mike exclaimed, "When Angela Merkel tells Killarney to jump, we ask, 'How high?'" Presently, we passed a row of 14 houses that had fallen into disrepair. Once considered valuable, surburban property selling for €250.000 each, a Dubliner had recently bought the lot of them for €250.000 total.
Further up the road, and now officially on the peninsula, we made our first stop at Inch Beach, one of the oldest beaches in Killarney. It juts out into the bay, allowing for compelling views of the Iveragh peninsula and the rest of the Dingle peninsula. It is good for surfing, fishing, and the occasional morning run. It has served as a set piece for a couple of movies as well.
From there, we drove along the peninsula, stopping on a curvy mountain road for a view of some of the sheep fields. A scenic point all its own, the locals call it the "Forty Shades of Green", referring to individual grazing fields separated by stone walls, the grass a slightly different green in every one. I asked Mike if the reference was a recent development and he let on that it was, chuckling a bit. The fences are built in the Galway style, with holes between the stones to keep them from blowing over in the wind and simply stacked upon each other without much of a capstone or any adhesive.
We passed a "Traffic Calming" sign, which was explained to mean you should slow down. A passing truck flashed its headlights, and Mike significantly reduced his speed. He pointed out the Garda van outfitted with a speed gun as we passed it by. At this point, a tower on one of the cliffs in the distance became visible. This tower was a monument to the wrecked ships of the Spanish Armada that sought refuge here after defeat. Some of the shipwrecked never left, explaining the higher percentage of Spanish blood in the region relative to the rest of Ireland, which already has a significant Spanish heritage. We came now upon Dingle bay near the town of Dingle. Dingle bay is famous for Fungi the dolphin, said to live in the bay. Mike has his suspicions; five years of tours and he hasn't once seen him.
As we drove further out on the peninsula we passed by Ventry, a region that Mike said did not get electricity until 1972. Many parts of County Kerry remain very rural, but are slowly modernizing. As we drove past a beach full of seaweed Mike explained that locals used to scoop up wheelbarrows of the stuff to use in baths at home, as it is supposed to be good for your skin. What Mike claimed as a sign of the times was that people were now charging those collecting it. We passed a rectangular white building that Mike told us was a famine house, where the people were made to work to earn enough money for their bread during the Great Famine. When one of our tour asked why the locals hadn't turned to the fish-laden sea, Mike said that the British didn't allow it, to fish was to poach, which usually resulted in jailing. Instead the people turned to potato farming on rocky soil that yielded low but stable crops. When they couldn't produce enough to pay their rent, they were evicted and put to work at the famine house. The large landowners consolidated their land and turned it into grazing land for sheep. The grazing land is still in use today, with sheep walking along the rocky seaside hills. The sheep are painted different colours, just on the top of their backs. Mike said the green ones were female while the red ones were male.
We continued down the road and stopped near the Fahan Beehive Huts, which were unfortunately closed. The huts were thought to be single family dwellings built in the 12th Century. They are made of stacked stone with no mortar, a common technique at the time, but have stood to this day. At this point we had arrived at Slea Head, the most westerly point in Europe. The road here is very narrow, even by Irish standards, just enough for two cars to barely squeeze by. We asked Mike what would happen if two tour buses ever came at each other, but he said that the buses had a gentleman's agreement that they would only travel anticlockwise on the loop. There is a small cross erected with figures of Joseph and Mary on the head, facing the Blasket Islands. During the famine and for some time after, many, many people emigrated from the Dingle area as Connacht, the west region of Ireland, was one of the hardest hit by the famine. This cross on the head served as the last cross that the emigrants would see before they arrived in America and viewing it was supposed to impart good luck upon the voyage.
From there we arrived at Dunquin, an Irish-speaking village situated next to a beautiful white sand beach that formed some of scenes of the film
Ryan's Daughter. The formation of the cove makes it such that beach is very tranquil and the waves lap slowly onto the sand. Up the road we stopped off near Ferriter's Cove, a red-flag beach. Red-flag, as opposed to blue-flag, signals that the beach is not safe for children due to rocks or strong currents. The cove was home to Ferriter's Castle, the entrances of which lie on the sea. Massive rectangular holes in the cliffy outset forming the walls of the cove form these portals to the castle. Waves crash, spraying metres high, drowning the opening in foam. From the cove we also had a great view of The Three Sisters, triple peaks on the northwest edge of the peninsula. Just down the road Mike stopped the van to point at an island. Viewed on the horizon, it resembled the form of a man, lying on his back, with nose, mouth, and potbelly. It is called The Sleeping Giant.
We drove into the city, making another stop more inland at the Gallarus Oratory, an early Christian church. The building is believed to have been built in the 6th Century. It is fashioned in the form of an upturned boat, with a doorway at one end and a window at the other. The window is positioned such that the light falls into the inner chamber to form a perfect line between window and door only twice per year, on the solstices. The church is crafted of individual stones laid on top of each other, with no mortar. They are cut such that they fit perfectly together, indeed, the church does not leak. There are multiple capstones forming the roof of the structure, forming the only sort of support holding the structure together. Visitors are allowed to walk inside and some say there is a local tradition that crawling through the solstice window will give you good luck.
From there, we drove back to Dingle, stopping to get some lunch. We stopped at another pub, also named Murphy's, where I got seafood chowder. On the way back to Killarney, we drove by the South Pole Inn, built on the site of Tom Crean's house in 1920. Tom Crean explored the Arctic Pole, making three ventures as part of the British Navy. He moved back to County Kerry and opened his pub, but became quite unpopular with the locals because of his involvement with the British Navy and the recently independent status of Ireland (remember the Easter Rising of 1916?). Some believed him to be a spy. Nevertheless, he remained there until he died, and the pub is still open today.
We made a stop near a five-star hotel built on top of a hill overlooking the three lakes of Killarney. Just before the sun had sank enough to create twilight, the city offered us a final farewell in the form of more scenic beauty.
On the way back to town we made a stop at St. Mary's Cathedral, the same one that Meng and I had visited earlier. Mike added some valuable insight. There is a massive tree outside of the church that is light up with lights. The lights are in remembrance of the victims of the famine, and the tree has been used as such since the time of the famine. When we entered the church, Mike revealed another sign of the times. Ten years ago there had been no cameras in the church, but today, one watches the parking lot, while another, on the inside, is aimed at the offering bin. Mike confided that the offering bin has been robbed three times in the last few years. The sealed metal canister making up the offering bin rests in the middle of the church.
After getting back to Killarney and saying goodbye and thanks to Mike, Meng and I explored some of the shops along New Street. They proved less touristy than could be imagined. Through heavy rain, we made it back to the train station.
