On the Wild Atlantic Way

Morning river...

It was good to wake to blue skies and sunshine, and we didn’t delay much in getting on the road to Kenmare. However, this involved the cross-country journey north to the Kenmare road, which in turn meant winding through narrow lanes with no space for oncoming traffic. Martin is an excellent driver for Irish roads like this – he is very laid-back and doesn’t let himself be pressured. I am happier thinking about my own driving next week, having been chauffeured so calmly.

Kenmare circle

Kenmare was our first stop – it’s very much a tourist city, definitely up-market from Bantry. We had coffee there, and then split up – I went and explored some of the back roads, and found Kenmare Stone Circle. It’s the biggest one in the SW of Ireland, and there are around 100 others. They were erected during the Bronze Age for ritual and ceremonial purposes, often oriented to solar and lunar positions. In the centre of the circle is a type of burial monument called a Boulder Burial.  I was surprised by how small it was – this is no Stonehenge: the stones are no more than 3’-4’ high.

You can't visit Ireland without meeting a donkey

From Kenmare we headed west along the Beara Peninsula.  West coast Ireland is a series of peninsulas reaching out into the Atlantic Ocean, all the way from Donegal in the north to the last five: the Dingle Peninsula, with Kerry beneath it, the Beara, the Sheeps Head, and the southernmost one which ends at Mizen Head. There's more than 2000 k of wonderful driving, known as The Wild Atlantic Way.  It wasn’t at all wild today as we tackled this little bit of it. Martin veered off the main road and we took tiny little lanes that took us closer to the ocean where it varied between bays with mussel cultivation and little harbours with boats afloat.

The lines in the water are the ropes on which the mussels grow

A quiet little slipway

Towards the end of the peninsula there are two little villages that make the eyes pop with their sudden bursts of colour – strong colours are often a feature of Irish towns, but they’re really noticeable here!

Allihies houses are brightly coloured!

We missed the very end of the Beara, and crossed over to come down to Castletownbere, an active little fishing town that holds echoes of Maritime ports – there we explored the harbour, and a really lovely little art gallery. 

Trawlers waiting to go out

We planned to have a (very) late lunch there, but by the time we got our act together, the place we’d planned was closed, and we decided that we’d complete the Beara circuit, and head home via Glengariff, to enjoy one of Martin’s curries instead. Driving through Glengariff reminded me of a holiday with Mum shortly after she moved back to Northern Ireland;  we met up in Dublin drove to the south-west to have a garden-holiday, staying in Glengariff and having a great day at Dereen Gardens and Ilnacullin.  2006, I think it was - happy memories...

At the harbour

Over supper, Eileen and I indulged in an orgy of watching a Sky-Arts Portrait Painter of the Year series, which was fascinating;  I think I’m going to rethink my London plans and spend time at the National Portrait Gallery!