The day promised to be wet and windy, like 25 mph windy. But despite the horizontal rain we had in the early morning, it was relatively calm and dry as we checked out of our Airbnb and started our trek to Northern Ireland. We thought we’d squeeze in a sight or two, as long as the weather held. Our first, Horn Head, was only ten miles north, on the northern coast of Ireland, but by the time we got there the wind had picked up again. Or maybe we were just more exposed on this cliff 600 feet above the Atlantic. I was afraid to stand too near the edge, the wind was that strong. And then the rain started. I opted to shift my vantage point to the warmth of the car.
Lough Swilly with Inch Island midstream
An Grianán, one of those cool, circular Stone Age forts on a hill overlooking Lough Swilly, was our second stop, an easy forty miles closer to our destination. Lough Swilly is another one of those Irish fjords [Irish fjords], this one much longer and wider than Killary Harbour.
The wind at the top of the hill was ferocious. Jackets whipped liked sails in a tempest. Hair plastered to faces making it difficult to see. The temperature plummeted. I watched tourists trying to take photos in the elements. I just didn’t have it in me to get out of the car. Marcus found a parking spot overlooking the lough, and that’s where we enjoyed our English picnic. [Going local] One of the best views on a picnic so far, and no chasing sandwich wrappers and napkins across the car park.
As we drove down the hill from the fort, I entered the address of our Derry Airbnb into the SatNav (car navigation system). ETA: 15 minutes. What? That can’t be right. We’re still in Ireland. I looked up and saw a line on the road about fifty feet in front of the car, where the pavement was darker and smoother. I laughed. “I bet that’s the border.” Sure enough. No border control, not so much as a sign, just more cow pasture and white cottages. The few cars we encountered on this little slip of a farm road now had UK plates.
“Welcome to the United Kingdom!” I said to Marcus.
Anti-climatic? Not at all. I hope that’s as much of a border as there will ever be between these two countries. And is it too much to hope that one day there is no border at all, physical or otherwise?
We’re not fans of tours, but sometimes a tour is truly the best way to see a place. The weather was beautiful while we were in Galway, perfect for visiting one of the Aran Islands just offshore where Galway Bay meets the North Atlantic. There are three islands; I chose the biggest, Inis Mór (Inishmore), because I wanted to hike up to Dun Aengus, a stone fort overlooking the Atlantic to the west and County Clare to the south across Galway Bay, seemingly at the edge of the world.
We could have driven the 40 kilometers to Ros an Mhil, figured out the ferry schedule and bought tickets, and arranged to rent bikes, hike, or hire a cab or local tour guide to take us to the foot of Dun Aengus, or we could just hire Michael Faherty, an Inis Mór native, to arrange the whole package for us.
Dun Aengus on the horizon
clints and grikes…look familiar?
an “erratic” left by a glacier in the last Ice Age
the fort
the edge of the world…the Cliffs of Aran
Michael was born and raised on Inis Mór. He was a commercial fisherman until the EU restrictions on fishing open waters became too restrictive. He decided to try his hand at the tourism business. He picks you up in his van in downtown Galway, drives you to the ferry, purchases the ferry tickets, escorts you to the island where he has another van to drive you from the ferry terminal not only to Dun Aengus, which is the highlight, but also to his favorites spots on the island.
Seven Churches monastic site
Note: Michael inherited his father’s farm on Inis Mór last year when his father passed away, so he maintains that too. The day before our tour, he had to stop mid-tour to “pull a calf.” One of his cows was having a difficult delivery, so he had to pull off the road at one of his pastures to help her out. Man, why didn’t we book the tour the day before?
7800 linear miles of stone wall
wildflowers growing out of stone
non-native beach rubble thrown up on the shore by Hurricane Sandy in 2012
notice the difference between native and non-native stone
The most striking thing about Inis Mór? The stone. OMG, it’s everywhere! The Aran Islands are actually a geological extension of the Burren. We saw clints and grikes [The Burren] on the island like the ones we saw in the national park. Over the centuries, as farmers cleared land for livestock, they removed stone from the fields and used it to build walls delineating pastureland. Michael says there are 7800 linear miles of stone wall on Inis Mór alone.
snail in a grike
Michael recently built a shed on his property using stone from his land. It was about 92% complete when the local authorities showed up. You can’t use those stones. They’re part of the heritage of our island. You’ll have to put them back. So Michael disassembled his shed. (Why didn’t they stop by when the shed was only 19% done? he mused.) You can own the land, you can build a wall with the stone from your land, but you can’t build a structure with the stone. They have more stone than they know what to do with. I doubt they could exhaust the supply if they tried.
This is the kind of insight you get only from hanging out with the locals.
Shortly after our drive around the Ring of Beara, I started talking about our upcoming trip to the Ring of Kerry. “What?” asked Marcus. “We’ve already done one ring. Why do we need to do another?” I knew where this was coming from: the nerve-wracking driving was beginning to take its toll. If we are going to see what this Ring of Kerry is all about, I’d better keep it short and sweet. I’ll pick a few sights that most appeal to us, and I’ll let the driver pick the roads.
dry stone construction, no mortar
Welcome to my abode!
what they used to look like
bedroom
clever wall design
view from the top
There were a couple of Bronze-Age stone forts I wanted to see, and I thought Marcus would appreciated the design and construction. There was an arts centre I wanted to check out, and Marcus picked out a short hike with a view of the Skelligs (two islands ten miles off the coast of Kerry). The cliffs of Kerry, the Bridge Bar in Portmagee for lunch. Then across the bridge to Valentia Island for the views. (I had a sneaking suspicion Valentia was going to be the hit of the day, but perhaps that was just my views-from-the-edge-of-anywhere obsession.) Then the ferry back to the mainland and back home. It was only half the Ring, and perhaps a quarter of the sights, but sometimes less is more. Marcus approved the roads and driving time. Done.
We chose to travel the ring clockwise because the tour buses travel anti-clockwise, as they say here. (If a tour bus leaves Killarney at 10:00 traveling west on the Ring of Kerry at 80 mph, and a car leaves Kenmare, 20 miles to the south of Killarney, at 11:00 traveling at 10 mph…. Sounds like one of those annoying math word problem, doesn’t it?) My devious plan worked though: not getting stuck behind buses in traffic reduced our travel time, and encountering only a few oncoming buses on those narrow roads drastically reduced our collective stress level.
view of the mainland from Valentia Island
the Skellig Islands off shore
Little Skellig (bird sanctuary), Skellig Michael (monastic site)
squall out on the water
rain over the Skelligs
To sum up our experience: the stone forts were cool, the arts centre closed, the trailhead too difficult to find, the cliffs crawling with tourists, the Bridge Bar fantastic, and I was right about Valentia Island. If you only do one thing on the Ring of Kerry, drive straight to the island, drive up Geokaun Mountain, and walk the loop trail for 360° views from the edge of Ireland. And Mother Nature gave us an additional treat: From our vantage point 600 feet above sea level, we watched the most impressive curtain of rain sweeping in from the North Atlantic, dousing the Skelligs, and marching across Valentia Island.
the Wild Atlantic Way
ruins at Ballinskelligs
the Skelligs
Valentia Island from Cliffs of Kerry
lunch spot at the bridge to Valentia Island
ruins at Cahersiveen
Beara may have been beautiful in its quiet, endearing way, but Kerry is unabashedly breathtaking! Something I have to keep reminding myself: Travel is not about bragging rights to accomplishing a destination; it’s about choosing what’s important to you and allowing yourself time to savor it.
