19/9/14 - 19/9/14
Today we woke up to the news that Scotland had said 'no' - finally, the wondering was over. But the wandering was still happening!
Breakfast featured juice in wine glasses (classy), and then being given directions by our host, which were promptly turned into a song (down there, turn right, first left, first right).
We walked along in typical, humid, Irish weather... wait, what?! It was really muggy in the morning (Darwinites would probably cope just fine, but I was less comfortable) and at that point we cursed bringing anything long-sleeved or warm in our suitcases.
We met two of the most vicious guard dogs on our way - tails wagging ferociously, tongues licking vigorously and aggressive circle turning (not unlike Chuck). Thankfully their owner was able to calm them enough for us to pass by unharmed.
Min Ard castle and the storm beach below it was the first landmark along the way. Amazing views - tripod worthy. Here we sat and enjoyed the views (and the warmth) for quite a while, until the rain kicked in. Ah Ireland, that's more like it! A few showers had been forecast, but this was more than a shower. Deceptively soaking rain, we all got completely saturated in five minutes. There's only so much Gore-tex can take, apparently, and this was it.
As we tramped along in the rain, we used the warning call of 'car' as required. At one point, I was about to say 'car' until I turned around and saw that the source of the noise was actually a horde of cyclists. They were fairly well mud-splashed, and we stood aside to let them pass. And then more of them passed. And still more!
As we continued, Belinda continued taking photos. One particular sheep was unimpressed by this and told her off in no uncertain terms.
We climbed more stiles than I can remember, and came across Lispole which was less directly-on-the-path than we had imagined. The rain kept falling, and we kept walking - at a 'cracking pace', according to one farmer on his excavator.
Eventually we arrived in Dingle and checked into our B&B, and were promptly mothered by our host. Wet clothes off, exploring shoes on!
We found Dingle to be full of tourists (pfft, tourists!) from all sorts of places. We did a spot of souvenir shopping ourselves, and bought the town out of Deep Heat and similar products. The pharmacist could not believe just how Irish Pat's name was - maybe he could have passed himself off as a local if he'd attempted the accent?
We managed to get a dinner reservation at An Canteen which was lucky, because while we ate people were being turned away left, right and centre. Tiredness was overwhelmingly present but we soldiered on to Dick Mack's, where we were very impressed at the quality of Irish whiskey. Then it was on to Kennedy's - more of a house than a pub - where Belinda was given a rather generous serving of Glenfiddich and I tried the Dingle gin. Next stop - Dingle Pub for live music from an accordion + guitar duo. The guitarist in particular was exceptionally clever and versatile. Eventually though, the need to sleep won out over the need to have a good time - for the girls, at least. The boys stayed out a bit longer, but were denied the opportunity of a kebab. Dingle - done!