THE RING OF KERRY

It's Thursday morning:  Today we will challenge the dreaded Ring of Kerry!  Can we do it?  Will we survive?  Will we make it to Waterville before noon as required by Rick Steves?  Yes!  Yes!  No!  Despite the dire predictions and horror stories shared by the American tourist community, we found driving the Ring of Kerry to be a delightful, delicious, gorgeous day. 

Our lovely Kenmare hostess seated us next to the window overlooking her rather large, very green yard and served us her full Irish breakfast.  She was an expert on Kenmare Lace and equally proud of her daughter's art work, examples of which decorated her breakfast room walls.  As always, we reluctantly carried our bags to the car, sorry to leave Siobhan as well as Kenmare itself.  Thanks to expert navigating on my part, not to mention our B&B's location near the main highway, we turned onto the N-70 and picked up our tour of the Ring of Kerry.  (Yesterday's drive from Muckross House to Kenmare actually took us along the eastern side of the route.)

Our first official stop along the Ring occurred about 40 kilometers into our adventure as we turned into the byway which led us to the Staigue Ring Fort.  This was one of only two or three times when we found ourselves on a road so narrow we actually had to back up--or, take our turn waiting, while the other car backed up to a wider spot in the road where we (or they) could scootch past.  However, it's really a non-issue because it's simply part of driving in Ireland.  I think only the Americans are bothered (or in extreme cases, panicked) by these narrow roads.  For the Irish it's simply an everyday occurrence.

Ireland is home to many ring forts--some recognizable and many not (at least to ring fort neophytes like us.)  Generally, the forts were built of dry-laid stones (absolutely no mortar) during the years between 500 BCE and 300 CE.  They were fairly large and contained huts for family or clan members as well as shelter and protection for their animals.  The forts were built for defense against invaders, and are found in other parts of Europe as well as Ireland.  This is a lonely landscape, and as I stood inside, I couldn't help but imagine the families who lived here birthing babies, raising children, loving and laughing but, sadly, too often mourning. 

I must admit, we've never encountered this situation along the I-10 in Phoenix.  We shared the road with traffic-wise cattle twice during our trip.  These are not western Kansas cattle.  They're docile, shiny-coated, and certainly not in a hurry. They're simply ambling from pasture to pasture--and, quite lawfully, doing it on the left hand side of the road--which, I regret, was more than I could say for us much of the time!

There are always a couple of stragglers in every group.

As we continued our drive, we began to climb toward the summit of Coomakesta Pass.  This part of our  drive  offered a completely different perspective (just a wee bit scary) as we looked down over the farms and the bay.  Centuries ago, farmers brought seaweed and sand from the shores of the Kenmare River and Ballinskelligs Bay to spread on their fields in order to "create" land fertile enough to support crops. Sometimes it worked and other times not. This was an area where we often passed scattered ruins of "famine houses."

Per Rick Steves' suggestion, we left the Ring of Kerry to venture farther out on the peninsula along the Skellig Ring, an area of great beauty, narrower roads and less traffic.  We stopped at St. Finian's Bay for the beautiful view of the water and the Skellig Islands in the distance.  The larger is Skellig Michael and the smaller is simply Little Skellig.  Skellig Michael is home to the ruins of a sixth century Christian monastery perched on one of its peaks.  It's available for tours, and we've added it to our lengthening list of "next time we come."

We had many miles yet to drive, so we rejoined the Ring of Kerry and drove along the northern edge of the peninsula beside Dingle Bay.  This section of the drive provides view after view of lush farmland and grassy pasture for sheep.  This is the topography that is so magical when you watch from the window of the plane as it approaches Shannon or Dublin.  Standing in the midst of it made us want to simply sit down and stay. Maybe forever.

I know I've mentioned before (I don't want to sound obsessed) that bathrooms are scarce along the roads and motorways of Ireland.  We are much too used to driving the interstates in the US and enjoying scenic rest stops or filling stations complete with cappucino machines.  That is not the case in Ireland.  On more than one occasion we have stopped at a small town pub, pretended we really wanted coffee, ordered it (Oh, Lord, it's not a cup--it's a pot accompanied by a pitcher of cream), politely sipped for a few minutes, then sidled off to find the facilities.  That scarcity of potties might be the only down side to this beautiful island.  So...imagine my joy when I asked where I might find the 'toilet" and was directed to this beauty.  This is one of the most lovable things about Ireland.  "Tidy Town" awards and "Top Toilet" designations.  For a "Runner-Up" this was quite a nice toilet.  I would have come back often, but we had to move on.