Category: Outdoor Activities
An Impromptu Venture: Going through the Gap of Dunloe and around by the Black Valley
20th December 2024 After the energetic tramping of the preceding days, my mind was fixed on an easier day. Though the morning began with cloudy skies, I was determined to make something of the day. My choice became the Gap of Dunloe, somewhere that I only glimpsed from a passing car thirty years before. One particular vista from the narrow valley was immortalised by John Hinde in a jigsaw puzzle that I completed when I was younger. The colours may have been embellished by hand, yet the scene centred on a bridge surrounded by steep slopes, and perhaps with a jaunting car in there as well, comes to my mind's eye as I write these words.
While much of my traipsing around Killarney in 2022 linked me to family outings from thirty years before, the day around the Gap of Dunloe and beyond was where this meme particularly took hold. It echoed a similar meme that took me back twenty years in Scotland. In the main, the latter linked solitary experiences, while the former supplanted communal ones with solitary counterparts. There are times when it is easier to imbibe your surroundings with no one else to distract you. At least, that is how it appears to work for me, anyway.
Again, being a year too early for improved bus services again comes to mind. The last bus of the day between Beaufort Bridge and Killarney did not leave so much of the day for being around the Gap of Dunloe given the time of my outbound journey. Services between Killorglin and Killarney cover more of the day these times, especially since route 279 complements Expressway route 40 by going via Killorglin between Tralee and Killarney. The limitation of a bus timetable played on my mind at the head of the gap, even if I could have made the return leg of my walk in the available time.
Between all that, I gained much from clouds breaking in the sky over my head. Quiet lanes led me from the bus stop past Beaufort and some ogham stones to reach Kate Kearney's Cottage, where horse and carriage tour providers had a terminus. My rambling involved sharing with others using various forms of transport: walking, cycling, motoring and equine. Even so, the unpeopled scenes that you see above were as they came out of the camera, something worth saying in an era when distraction removal has been made so much easier by the advent of Generative AI.
Such is the list of lakes passed on my way that the words "Pater Noster" come to mind in their geographical sense; the string of lakes are akin to beads on the string of a set of rosary beads, thus gaining the Latin words for Our Father, a pivotal prayer in Christianity. Going south, the list builds like this: Coosaun Lough, Cushnavally Lake, Augur Lake and Black Lough, each a "bead" on the "string" of the River Loe. All added interest as I went on my way, as much as the steep slopes rising around me.
Some were walls of rock, offering a sound mirror for passing tourists and their guides. While the delight of hearing echoes may marvel some, the pursuit runs counter to my desire for quietude. Thankfully, I only witnessed this happening lower down the valley and relinquished that experience to encounter the actual delights that sated me.
Inasmuch as it appeared that the sunshine would carry on for the rest of the day, that was not to be. It was as I neared the head of the gap that a passing rain shower caught me; it was as if it were trying to steer me into sticking with my original plan. However, the sight of a sign welcoming visitors to the Black Valley sunk my adhesion to that idea. Though Killarney was around twenty kilometres away on foot and I had only trail shoes rather than hiking boots, the prospect was one that I was not to surrender. Travelling under one's own power adds a certain amount of security anyway; all is under your control as far as your physical condition allows.
As the shower faded, I descended into a valley where I had not passed for around thirty years. This time, I was on foot and could soak in my surroundings, scenery, ambience and all else while following another section of the Kerry Way. It is challenging to do that so completely while travelling in a motor vehicle, as I was on the previous occasion in the area. The locality's church got a visit when I stopped a while on the way to Lord Brandon's Cottage. Cars were about as well horse and carriage tours, and I marvelled at where the former came from, especially when surprised by one that was behind me. It was not as if I expected a small convoy to pass me.
Though the boreen was not without its attendant delights, I was happy to leave all encounters with other traffic after me, at least for a while. Sadly, the sun ducked behind clouds around Lord Brandon's Cottage to foil attempts at photographic capture of the bridge across the Gearhameen River. In time, amends were made as I approached and passed Upper Lake on the way to Derrycunihy and Galway's Bridge. Though others were about, much was quiet too, and all was relished.
Crossing the N72 got me onto a track leading towards where I had been the previous day. Going straight ahead instead of turning left for Esknamucky Glen would have landed me back in Kenmare again. Since Killarney was where I was headed, turning left and retracing eastbound steps was my lot. If I had wondered about my trail shoes dealing with a rough path, I need not have worried. Merrell build their wares well, as I had plenty of cause to discover during 2022.
That small cascade where I could not linger the previous day became a lunching stop for me. Humanity and civilisation felt very far away in the blissful spot. Though overcast skies lay over me, that did nothing to take from the respite offered by this uncelebrated and unpeopled spot. Once I got going again, I was not minded to once more climb Torc Mountain after what the previous evening brought me while I was up there. Sticking to the trail sufficed, and I descended by a busy Torc Waterfall. If I was hoping for the place to be quiet and unfrequented at the time of day that I was passing, it was not to be.
Another crossing of the N72 ensued, this time for a passage by Muckross House and Muckross Friary that had me being more present with the exercise. It offered a chance to make amends for any self-perceived slight at how I passed through the place the previous evening. There was a chance to pause at the ruined friary too, so there was no rushing. Savouring the delights of a summer evening was what it was all about, particularly when the clouds again parted to release more invigorating sunshine.
That approach pervaded the rest of the way, too. Going via Maurice O'Donoghue Park adjusted my course, so I ventured through Knockreer for what I though might be the last time. As I was moving with less fatigue than 24 hours previously, I wondered if impromptu long distance walking with lighter footwear was paying its dividends. An impulsive decision had granted me more than I would have dared to seek; the length of the route seemed overly ambitious during a spell of planning. This was a day that was memorable in so many good ways.
Kerry Way and Torc Mountain: A Highland Trek from Kenmare to Killarney
19th December 2024 In one respect, my longer stay in Killarney was a year too early. 2023 brought an enhanced bus service between Killarney and Kenmare. That would have made for an earlier start along the main hike of my second full day in Kerry: the section of the Kerry Way between Kenmare and Killarney. The later start may have meant that I had longer around Killarney before setting off, yet the long Irish summer evenings meant that there was no major impact in the end.
If I was too early for making use of better bus services, I was optimally timed for avoiding overtourism. A stroll through Knockreer this past July brought that home to me. While it might have been a later arrival from Cork that put me in the time slot for hotel guests being conveyed on horse and carriage tours by jarveys, I was left with the impression that jarveys owed nothing to passing walkers and cyclists. Convoys of them were going my way, and it did not feel very comfortable at all. The 2022 forays avoided all that in a world only slowly emerging from the pandemic tourism nadir.
Unless I have some business to do, I tend not to loiter around Irish towns if I can avoid doing so. That was how it went for me in Kenmare, so I set to finding the route of the Kerry Way and ascending a back road leading unyieldingly uphill from the town. As it did so, I was treated to ever expanding views of Kenmare River and nearby Beara Peninsula on any rest breaks that were needed. The quietude of my surroundings was a marked counterpoint to extensive commercial business ongoing in the town that I left behind me.
Not many others passed me in the opposite direction as I ventured further into the hills. As I did so, it was what surrounded me took up my attention in place of what lay behind me. Gradients also eased to make for less demanding progress along the boreen. It was as if I were passing through such an emerald idyll past which it was rude to rush. Many photography stops ensued as I closed in on Peakeen Mountain and Knockanaguish.
Leaving tarmacked boreens behind me, I took to the gravelled track leading me between Peakeen Mountain and Knockanaguish. It was hereabouts that the skies clouded to limit photography, and a rain shower overtook me to provide the only wetting of the day. Nevertheless, it soon passed to let me imbibe the delights of the bucolic surroundings. It really was special to have such a place deserted and to allot me one of the best lunching stops that I have ever enjoyed. That Windy Gap was not living up to its name made the experience even better.
After that elevated lunching spot, a descent was in order on a track leading to Galway's Bridge and Derrycunihy. However, that was not the direction to be following for Killarney, so I turned right to ascend to Esknamucky Glen; the name of the glen means place of the pigs in Irish (Eisc na Muicí). Before getting, someone going the other way asked for directions to Lady's View, an inquiry that surprised me. A consultation of the map revealed that they were not so misplaced, though a walk along the N72 did not strike me as anyone's idea of pleasure.
If I was expecting a gravel track all the way through Esknamucky Glen, disappointment would have been my lot. Since the surface of the trail is at times uneven along the lower slopes of Cromaglan Mountain, I was glad to be wearing boots. The aforementioned hill might make for a pleasing outing, especially after I opted not to reach its summit, and it is far from being the highest in the area by a long shot.
Only for someone else already being there, I might have dawdled near a small lake and an attendant waterfall on an off-trail break. It would have been well-placed after all the care with foot placement that preceded it. Instead, I made for the track that brought the idea of following the Old Kenmare Road section of the Kerry Way to my notice in the first place.
That was on a claggy day trip to Killarney from Tralee the previous June. Then, I made my getaway from a human throng that centred on Muckross Road to reach the top of Torc Mountain, despite the lack of any views because of the low cloud base. My passing the same hill in better conditions meant that I could not decide against making another ascent, even after the ups and downs of coming all that way from Kenmare.
The added exertions were amply rewarded. Some Americans making their descent shared their astonishment at what they saw; the word "awesome" got used. As overused as that term might be, the panoramic views that I had missed on the earlier encounter were all there to be savoured. All of Killarney's lakes lay below, from Upper Lake to Muckross Lake to Lough Leane, along with Lough Guitane near Glenflesk and nestled beneath Mangerton and its neighbouring hills. This was a spot on which to linger, yet there was a good distance to walk to get to Killarney, and I needed to get going. That would have put paid to any designs on reaching the lower west top of the hill, should they ever had existed.
Conscious of time, I made my descent over boardwalk and pitched path, hardly a great combination for scurrying downhill when one's fear of tumbling takes control. Once on the track below, I rejected the prospect of a descent by Torc Waterfall for a gentler gravelled, and later tarmacked, one following the course of the Old Kenmare Road before crossing the N72 into Muckross.
By this stage, my recollection is that things had degenerated to a sort of zombie trot. Fatigue was to blame at the time, though I now wonder if time also was of the essence. Whatever was the combination of causes, it felt rude to be scurrying past Muckross Friary in the state of mind that I had entered by then. After travelling several more kilometres, I was back at my accommodation, ready for a good night's rest after an often stunning day.
Lakes and Legacies: A Circuit via Knockreer Park and Meetings of the Waters
18th December 2024 The great thing about being based somewhere is that you never need to worry about making the last bus, coach or train back when your base is elsewhere. In Killarney's case, this matters if you are coming from Cork or Limerick, and less so if Tralee is where you are returning. It also is how I got so much out of my Scottish escapades, so repurposing that approach in Ireland was sure to pay dividends. It was as if I were in the Irish counterpart to Aviemore, though things differ substantially in Killarney.
My first full day in the area began cloudy, yet I was more than happy to let the day develop in its own time and add some editing to the photos that I would make. When you seek sunlit visits, you make it possible for the conditions to do just that. Patience is what is needed then, particularly when a midday rain shower comes your way.
It was in that spirit that I continued from my accommodation into Knockreer Park. Along the way there, I passed through Killarney House and Gardens, which offered an escape from street-side strolling. My objective at this stage was to get to the shore of Lough Leane and follow that on the way towards Ross Castle. In some ways, this was a reprise of the route taken during the day trip from Limerick the preceding April, albeit with numerous variations.
One of these was not to linger around historic Ross Castle but to potter around adjoining Ross Island, a lakeside peninsula despite the name. Along the way, I visited such spots as its disused copper mine, the Governor's Rock and O'Donoghue's Library. On the way back towards the castle, I shadowed Ross Bay. The strolling took me into quieter recesses away from the castle, which I was again to pass on the way to Muckross.
While the horse-racing fraternity may not agree with me on this, I reckon that it would add a lot to be able to cut across the racecourse to avoid going along Muckross Road so much. Hoteliers then might have cause to complain if I suggested a footbridge across the River Flesk to go through their grounds. My day trip to Killarney from Tralee at the start of the preceding June would have benefitted greatly from such a diversion that avoided most if not all of the throng that descended on the town that bank holiday weekend.
However, there is a partial concession to this thoroughfare avoidance in the form of a cut-through from Ross Road to Muckross Road near where the latter crosses the aforementioned river. This goes through a residential area before skirting the racecourse stabling area and crossing Maurice O'Donoghue Memorial Park. Anything is better than nothing, I suppose.
Muckross is a significant distance from Killarney at around five kilometres. On the way there, it is mostly downhill, yet going uphill on the way back to meet a transport connection is not the best. Nevertheless, Muckross Road does have places for refreshing oneself if time is available for attending to such needs. The outbound distance and the dallying around other places meant my arrival in Muckross was tardy, all the more so given how much time I spent around Muckross Friary awaiting some sun to allow photos to be made. Thus, I found myself around Muckross House around 16:30, and I was having plans to round Muckross Lake. The length of an Irish summer evening meant that such designs were not as daft as they might have appeared.
The amount of available sunlight justified my persistence; this was to be an advance on the overcast outing that I weathered the preceding April. Much was put to rights during this circuit, and I lingered hopefully near Dinis Cottage and Meetings of the Waters in wait for sunshine to return after any cloudy spells. The waters in question were in good flow with currents flowing strongly from Upper Lake, Muckross Lake and Lough Leane at this well known confluence.
On the way back from Meetings of the Waters to Muckross, I got more than my share of recompense for what I missed during the previous encounter. Despite occasional pauses while the sun played peek-a-boo with the clouds, its appearances brought moments worth savouring. Thus, there was no cause for complaint as I crossed the N72 to pick up a path taking me destined for Torc Waterfall, only for my deciding to peel off for Muckross instead. That spared me some uphill travel and postponed any encounter with a busy spot for later in my stay in the area.
Though Muckross was sun blessed, there was a sign that not everywhere was dry. Dark rain clouds lent a dramatic atmosphere to any sightings of Muckross House. Looking towards the lake allowed a glimpse of a very different world. The juxtaposition of rain and sun in places only kilometres apart was striking.
My return to Killarney was to earn me a soaking as the rain clouds headed west. They soon left me to dry, and I arrived at my lodgings, not displeased with my day on foot. When so much was set to rights, it is impossible to grumble about passing occasional wettings. There was equally much that was peaceful and scenic, too. The tranquillity and lushness of my surroundings was more than amenable to my spirit.
Embracing what lies on Killarney’s doorstep
17th December 2024 For a long time, I had fancied spending more time in Killarney than a day trip. Many family ones have happened, I began to embark on a few of my own during 2022. When the time for a summer break came, and I did not feel ready to go further away, it felt like the ideal time to explore Killarney in more depth.
Because of the way that my time in Ireland pivoted around a weekend, there was an impact on accommodation choices. The result was that I divided my time between Killarney and Cork, shortening my time in the former, especially since I arrived in Ireland on a Tuesday. While a Sunday arrival might have avoided the Saturday night surcharge just as well and given me longer, that was not how things happened.
Still, having three full days of exploration brought innumerable delights my way in any case. The longer Irish evenings of summer also helped with this, ensuring that there was no need to rush because of declining hours of daylight. The continued ability to access the Muckross estate was another aid, particularly given how wonderful sunny Irish evenings can be.
Nevertheless, having another whole day or two could have fitted in an ascent of Mangerton as well as a visit to Tomies Wood. The former was addressed during the past summer, while the latter remains. Perusal of a map put the idea of an excursion to the latter from Meetings of the Waters, only for further reconnaissance to quash that daydream. Another visit to Killarney can take me that side of Lough Leane, the reputed lake of learning (apparently the origin of the name if a certain jarvey is to be believed; the translation from Irish certainly works).
Three Days on the Hoof
Following hindsight, I decided to split things up again in retrospect. Seeing a reading time exceeding twenty minutes was enough to do that after the first edit was shared with the world. Thus, each full day gets its own trip report; that means one for the day around Knockreer, Muckross and Muckross Lake, another for the hike along the Kerry Way between Kenmare and Killarney with a side visit to the top of Torc Mountain, and one more for that spur of the moment traipse from Beaufort through the Gap of Dunloe and Black Valley back to Killarney with added encounters with Upper Lake and Torc Waterfall. Each day of my stay brought its own unique experiences, and giving them their own space in the limelight only seems fair.
A lot got packed into those few days, and the longer evenings of an Irish summer really helped with all this. The weather provided its own share of encouragement; it was all enough to make me proceed like a child in a proverbial sweet shop. Killarney just is that kind of place, from the allure of Ross Castle and the serenity of Muckross Lake to the stirring sights from the top of Torc Mountain. Such journeys only can be filled with moments of reflection and wonder, particularly at the Meetings of the Waters and amidst the vistas of the Gap of Dunloe. The serendipitous detour through the Black Valley on that last full day evinced a certain spirit of spontaneity. While a certain amount of planning is essential, it is those unexpected moments that are the very ones that become lasting, cherished memories.
One Last Foray Before a Departure
Before heading for Cork, I again returned to Knockreer for another circuit, one that was diminutive compared with the rounds that I had been doing the preceding three days. It was a way of saying farewell to a place that had given me so much during my stay there. The longer encounter had yielded ample rewards.
This was one extra chance to glimpse the unique mix of lakes and mountains that draws so many to Killarney. It is not for nothing that it is a favoured spot for me. Though parts can get busy, the place does have it quieter corners too, and I found a few of them over the years. Too many descend on the obvious attractions, leaving the rest for others who seek them. It is ever thus with so many scenic spots; connoisseurs are left with the best bits that need more effort to reach.
Travel Arrangements
My journey commenced in Macclesfield, where I boarded one train to Manchester Piccadilly and then another to Manchester Airport before taking a flight across the Irish Sea to Dublin. A delay to the arrival of my flight meant that I needed to take a later train to Killarney, changing trains in Mallow. The swiftness of Dublin Express services could not compensate for that, even if I did get to fit in an impromptu visit to the Phoenix Park. On the way to Killarney, there was added nervousness at Rathmore while adding the passage of a train coming the other way, especially when we were running late already. All was well in the end, though; I was none too late for my hotel reservation.
During my stay, I used Bus Éireann's network to explore the region. Travelling to Kenmare on service 271 got me to that trailhead for my hike along part of the Kerry Way back to Killarney. Going on service 279 to Beaufort Bridge set me up for the Gap Dunloe, from where I staged that unplanned hike back to Killarney using another section of the Kerry Way. Finally, the Expressway service 40 provided a scenic route through some of southern Ireland's verdant landscapes on the way to Cork for the next part of the sojourn.
Sun, rain and Irish explorations: Journeys along the Dingle Way and more
29th November 2024 With a few matters to address in Ireland and a wish to steer clear of the Jubilee celebrations, I found sufficient motivation for embarking on another journey to the Emerald Isle. After the success of a previous stay in Limerick, I fancied the prospect of basing myself in Killarney for a change. However, the timing included the Whit Weekend Bank Holiday in Ireland, which I blame for my encountering exorbitant accommodation costs. My trip later took me to Killarney for a day outing, when I found the real reason for the extortionate costs: Bikerfest was in town and had attracted a huge following.
Meanwhile, I had settled on Tralee as my base. While that put the Dingle Peninsula on my doorstep, there was another trip to West Limerick to check on things there. In the background, there were things to progress to which an inclement Thursday allotted some time after a morning stroll in the greyness. Friday started out grey too, so that allowed one or more phone calls to be made. This was not the full mix of weather, for eastward bands of rain blighted the bank holiday weekend, making decisions about where to go that bit more difficult.
Serendipity on the Kerry Camino
It took until Wednesday for any sunshine to successfully break through the cloud cover, too; this was a sojourn that needed patience and perseverance for any photographic rewards to be savoured. As the clouds broke overhead, I spent some time around Tralee's town park, using any photographic opportunities that arose. That afternoon, I followed the trail of the Dingle Way out of the town for what, I thought, was an out and back hike.
While following the towpath of the ship canal was an option, I kept more closely to what the map showed to be the route of the long-distance trail, which ended up with my walking by the side of the N86 as far as Blennerville, with its iconic windmill in view all the while. Once through the village, I ended up leaving the trail for a circular foray into the foothills of the Slieve Mish Mountains. Unlike my time in Limerick, I was shod for the travel over rougher ground. The Berghaus boots may have been intended for lighter wear, yet they acquitted themselves well in the circumstances.
On returning to the Dingle Way, also known as the Kerry Camino between Tralee and Dingle via Annascaul, I still had intentions of circling back to Tralee. However, the splendour of the scenery in the sunshine continued to lure me along until I made a spur of the moment decision to continue to Camp; the availability of a decent bus service between Tralee and Dingle was what decided me as much as what was delighting me.
Views across Tralee Bay and inland towards Stack's Mountains and Glanaruddery Mountains drew my eyes away from where I was. Even so, it was looking back along the slopes of the Slieve Mish Mountains that really held my attention. However, any peering into the dramatic setting of Baurtregaum was curtailed by the need to reach Camp. In the end, there was no hefty time constraint, so I could have lingered and gazed for a while. Even with the emotional recollection of hurrying by, I still ended up with more images than the sense of rush would have suggested. That has calmed things for me.
Thus, any regrets regarding a rude rapidity of my passage have faded; advancing clouds were calling time on any dawdling anyway. The sunshine was receding and I on the most rugged stretch of the path. There was height gain too to go with any western views that made one wonder about the possibility of glimpsing Brandon and its neighbouring hills.
Any ascent came before a gradual descent on a trail disinclined to show me my eventual destination; having to go up while knowing that you need to go down needs some forbearance. That was not all, for patience under grey skies was the order of the moment before I reached the N86 again. Wearying limbs carried me into Camp, where refreshments were obtained in advance of awaiting the bus back to Tralee. While there had been some serendipity regarding the hike that I had completed, much felt magnificent on what was my deepest incursion into Irish hill country at that time.
An Impromptu Ventry Circuit
In advance of an onslaught of rain on Thursday, I pottered around Tralee and went out along its ship canal, an entity that had been unknown to me. The skies were overcast yet dry, so I went as far as I could go before the shoreline halted me. Then, I made my way back to Tralee via lanes to reach cover before any inclement weather arrived. During the stroll, I spotted signs for the North Kerry Way, a trail that had its uses only days later.
With all obligations met, I had Friday afternoon to myself. Even with overcast skies, I still went to Dingle. Once there, I had the gift of well broken cloud cover that allowed long spells of sunshine. Making use of that situation, I followed the Dingle Way westward. Traffic on the R559 was such that I was happy to leave it for a far quieter minor road. As I followed that, views towards an unclouded Brandon were a feast for one's eyes, even if an uncooperative foreground and occasionality of the sunshine made for challenging photographic composition.
Tarmac was left after me for a time on the way to the route of Siúlóid Cholmáin, a looped walk that passes Cill Cholmáin and Rathinane Castle. The former is the ruins of an Early Christian Monastery founded by Saint Colmán, and the latter is a fifteenth-century castle built by the Fitzgerald family, perched in a ring fort. As with many of these things, I have little recollection of the monastic ruins and the castle was on private, so I only could view it from a distance.
All this took me back on tarmac again yet in pleasing surroundings on quiet back roads. Others were out in the sunshine too, so there was at least one cheery greeting coming in my direction. Leaving the true route of the circuit, I ventured onto Ventry beach. Looking ahead brought me eyes to a gap where I might have been seeing Brandon or one of its neighbours. Looking right brought my gaze across Dingle towards the northern shore of the Iveragh peninsula and smaller landmasses lay further west. My contention is that I was seeing the distant Skelligs on a clear day.
Once off the large expanse of sand with its own lifeguard on duty, I was hailed by cheeky youngsters as "Bandito" because of the hat that I was wearing to keep off the sun. All that could be done was to laugh at their impetuousness and carry on; little harm was being done. Returning inland involved an ascent with ever expanding views before I returned to the Dingle Way to reprise the way back to Dingle.
A piece of cartographic fiction caused me to vary the route while on a false errand. That also brought me past barking dogs, an ever intrusive experience in the Irish countryside. On attempting to find it on private land and coming to an impassable obstruction, I had to give up on Cosán na Naomh and traipse tarmac all the way back to Dingle after adding more distance to my return route. Nevertheless, the exercise offered me more views of a by now clouded Brandon. The cost was something of a dash to make the penultimate bus of the day from Dingle to Tralee. Cloudier skies meant that I could do so without distraction.
An earlier departure from Tralee might have allowed for a longer circuit or a visit to Dunquin, familiar to many an Irish student of the life of Peig Sayers. A lower level circuit of Sliabh an Iolair (Eagle Mountain, in English) would have its appeal. Saying that, what I sampled gave plenty of satisfaction, so I do not feel short-changed in any way at all. Given the weather prospects of the weekend to come, it was best to snatch any opportunity with both hands.
A Morning's Meander
In the words of a local shopworker, Saturday evening turned out nasty. Heavy rain had arrived, not from the west as most would expect, but from the east. If I had known that it take until around 18:00 to do this, I might have made more of the day. Going on a day trip to Killarney would have been a possibility.
Thinking that I only had the morning, I made use of the Greenway to see how far I would get to Fenit. The answer was: not very far. Curiosity led me onto the R551 to see how things looked and works to convert the old railway remained in progress. Given how busy the road was, that possibly was a case when inquisitiveness was best left aside, especially when I inadvertently walked in front of an oncoming car, making it stop, yet without any harm being caused to anyone. The Greenway has been opened since then, and surely must be a boon for off-road recreation, and bus services have been enhanced too.
Suitably chastened and disabused of the idea of going to Fenit, I made my way on to the North Kerry Way near Spa, using lanes that were busier than was ideal. Thankfully, things were quieter after I had passed the entrance to the golf club. Once off the road at Spa, things were better again. This was following up on an idea that came my way on Thursday morning.
The morning was bright with some hazy sunshine too, which was more than could be expected. Westward views along the Dingle peninsula were there to be savoured on a trail that shadowed a stone shoreline. Eventually, I would follow the towpath of the ship canal, where an unexpected inconvenience intruded on my day: the local rowing club's training session. One of their number was using a bike to follow their progress, stopping rather too often for my liking. Constant leap-frogging is not the most restful.
When I got to Tralee's town park, the heat of the day was there to be felt. The sunshine was strong, and I attended to some shopping needs that I had. It felt rude to go indoors when it was not inclement outside, yet I possibly felt the need to do just that after a morning of walking. This was a period when it looked as if Met Éireann was struggling to predict what was coming to a greater level of precision.
Between Crowds and Clouds
Figuring out what to do on Sunday became a challenge because of the lack of apparent certainty. Seeing that Killarney could be drier was enough for me to give the place a go. Until the previous encounter in April, expectations were not high. The weather information did no better than that.
If I had known that Bikerfest was there, Killarney may not have been an option at all. All too often, I arrive somewhere not knowing that an event is happening there. Fort William, Dolgellau and Bath all fall into this category, though there were ample workarounds in those cases. Visiting a crowded location soon after the zenith of a global pandemic was not my intention, not that the timing bothered many around there. Those attending Bikerfest simply behaved as if there were never a pandemic at all, not a situation that I found comfortable.
On the way back to Muckross, vehicles were parked everywhere. The impression was that Killarney was overwhelmed and any management of roadside verges for wildlife went by the wayside. Motorcycle engines sounded everywhere, with many going towards Moll's Gap and powering up throaty engines on the way. It is an utterly alien situation for a quietude seeker to meet.
Thankfully, Muckross was blissful in comparison, The racket and the crowds were distant there, gifting the much-needed respite. The day remained overcast with low clouds on the hills. Even so, I continued to the top of Torc Mountain, passing Torc Waterfall on the way. Even with poor visibility at the top, the well-made path made it straightforward to get there. It was best not to move around too much on the summit, so I made my descent again with ideas planted in my mind for later. One was revisiting Torc Mountain in clearer conditions, and another was following the Kerry Way from Kenmare back to Killarney. An August incursion would make use of those prospects.
The way back to Killarney again tried me until I escaped through Maurice O'Donoghue Memorial Park to less crowded surroundings. From there, I made my way into Knockreer Park in the ever dampening air. The attendant lack of people was a balm to the soul, regardless. Passing the cathedral, I made for the train station, where a wetting accompanied a wait for the next train to a much wetter Tralee.
A Walk in Manannan's Mist
After being a little unnerved around Killarney, I fancied a quieter day in the Kerry countryside. Prompted either a perhaps overoptimistic forecast or an overly hopeful self, I set off for Dingle for a hike to Annascaul. While going from Camp to Annascaul was a possibility too, I scotched that in light of the likely conditions. The sights from the bus ride along the N86, which shadows the route of the Dingle way, validated my reasoning: the cloud base was too low.
On that Bank Holiday Monday, Dingle was blissfully quiet as I set to attend to a few needs in advance of setting off in the direction of the Connor Pass. It was another section of the Dingle Way that I was using as I did this. A little route was needed to get going, and the air grew damper as I gained height. Visibility was another matter; even with being near the aforementioned pass, I could not see it. Even so, I ventured off the long distance trail in its direction, only for the wetting from damp vegetation to send me back. Some things are best left for days with better weather.
In time, the air was to get drier. That was not before whimsical thoughts emerged regarding Manannan's mythical nightly shower in the Dingle mountains and his leisurely morning routine. Losing some height on the way to Lispole helped with the dryness, though care was needed with navigation. At one point, I nearly followed a mucky farm roadway before seeing sense and turning back to find the correct route. Any spatters would need attention later.
If it were not for boreens, there would have been less pleasure on this day of walking; it appears to me that they are an Irish speciality for long distance walking, a unique feature that I have not met elsewhere. All was quiet as I peered towards the southern shore of the peninsula. It even looked as if there might be some brightness, though any that came only was fleeting. Kilmurry Castle beckoned to me as a landmark, and I was to tarry around there for a while. Then, gazing west showed that my decision to go east was not ideal for enjoying sunshine. Going to Ventry or Dunquin might have made a better option if bus times facilitated such designs.
On the way from Kilmurry to Annascaul, views of the hilly spine of the Dingle peninsula were vastly more plentiful than the amount of sunshine that I was getting, though there was some. Some of the houses that I passed were unoccupied and falling into nature's embrace, making me wonder if anyone might use them as a starting point for a restoration project. The present cost of living clearly limits that kind of thing, though.
Road travel took me into Annascaul where I was greeted by the sight of the South Pole, the pub operated by Tom Crean after his Antarctic adventuring came to an end. Finding the bus stop was the next task before topping up on refreshments. Before the vigil for the next bus could commence in the rain, various signs were perused to learn some history of the place, such as the fate of its Church of Ireland place of worship. If my memory is not confabulating again, others highlighted walking possibilities in the area, some featuring nearby Lough Anscaul. There is more than the Dingle Way around here.
An Underestimated Gateway to Kerry's Hills
In summary, Tralee has much to offer as a hill wandering base. While it may be overshadowed by the delights of nearby Killarney and is a working county town, the proximity of the Dingle peninsula is in its favour. Public transport options are workable too if you do not want to use a car. For section walking of the Dingle Way, using your transport becomes much more awkward anyway.
As in my case, the weather may be unpredictable, yet it is possible to work around that. When the sun shines, all looks all the more magnificent when you realise what a gift that is. While some may be focussed on climbing Brandon, a challenge that commands competence with navigation to avoid steep ground in low visibility, there is much else that is more accessible. Even with much gained, there are sufficient excuses that prompt my return. Sometimes, anywhere that is overshadowed can be more valuable than what is overshadowing it.
Travel Arrangements
This multi-city journey through Ireland commenced with a Ryanair flight from Manchester Airport to Dublin, an opportunity to see how restrictions had been eased even further, albeit with added trepidation. Any chaos that affected outbound flights from Dublin the previous weekend did not impact me at all, though they were a sign that service restoration was not keeping pace with increasing demand. Thus, I could board Dublin Express service 782 to get to Dublin's Heuston station, where I boarded an Iarnród Éireann train service to Tralee, transferring at Mallow station, as planned.
Regional transportation was facilitated by Bus Éireann, using their service 275 for connections between Camp, Tralee, and Dingle. For the Killarney day trip, I employed Bus Éireann's Expressway service 40, returning via rail transport. The return from Tralee comprised a combination of Iarnród Éireann and Bus Éireann services from Limerick to Cork Airport, where I continued the journey with a Ryanair flight back to Manchester, followed by a train journey to Macclesfield, reversing my outbound mode of travel.
