Tuesday 29th September 2026

Another pretty good sleep, but dreams didn’t come true- the BOM got the forecast right with rain and strong winds lashing the windows. It didn’t augur well for a 22-23 kilometre walk rated Moderate.

We did start the day well with another bowl of warm porridge topped with brown sugar and Baileys Cream- only the Irish could infuse alcohol into a meal at 730.

The room was full of walkers with varying approaches to the day with some taking a taxi all the way and others catching one to the 9 kilometre mark. Others like us were playing it by ear and deciding what to do at the 9 kilometre mark where a bus could be taken. In true Irish fashion the mine host answered our question about the whereabouts of the bus stop by saying “there’s no shelter or sign just a tree”. We could but hope it was the only tree around.

Covered in trusty poncho’s we headed out of town almost immediately onto a country lane which naturally took us upwards into the foothills. It was a little busy with the postie starting early and patents taking kids to school meaning us standing to attention on the side of a narrow lane with our bums in the blackberries.

Unlike other days we struck a couple of intrepid walkers also chancing their arms with the weather and ending up playing hates and tortoises over the day with a group of three Irish Americans.

The scenery, when able to lift the head, was again spectacular albeit closed in by rain and yes – low hanging clouds. A smattering of horses, cows and sheep but still no pigs to support all of the bacon served at breakfast. Not many farmhouses, mainly a selection of ramshackle and pristine barns. Many abandoned houses had been repurposed as barns.

Track headed onto the coast and we came upon a ruined castle from the 1500(around time when Spaniards were visiting these shores) and a beach that resembled a kids ball pit with rocks forming a seawall.

The rain was persistent and the wind gusty, sometimes it would be blowing so strongly our poncho’s turned into spinnakers. Thankfully it was blowing from behind and giving a helping hand.
After a couple of hours we reached what was what we thought to be the bus stop and turned towards the main road. Turned out we were well short, but there was a farm shop, unmanned, where we could take some cover and have a brief respite from weather.

Our next landmark was a ‘pay as you go’ portable toilet a local farmer provided to prevent those bear in the woods moments – whilst well patronised I can’t imagine it was a great revenue raiser.

Couldn’t get away from the fact we were running away from our bathroom renovation when we came upon another rest stop in the shape of a chair made from a discarded bath. A passing Canadian couple snapped a shot for us. We didn’t see them again so they were either hares or took the bus.

The weather abated for a while and when we popped out next to ‘that tree’ we decided to soldier on in hope weather would stay benign.

The track soon changed to farm tracks, sometimes, grass and other times wet dirt scuffed by animal movements and covered in other animal movements. Walking through pastures meant multiple up and overs of the stiles- not a particularly easy or graceful exercise.

The wind and rain got worse and when checking weather later it indicated they were between 58-75 with gusts up to 100kms per hour.

The hills dwarfed us on one side and beautiful pastures flowed out towards the coast, unfortunately the change in course meant a wind direction change and we were often using the poles to maintain balance.

The hours wiled away and after an on the run lunch we saw the distant hills above Dingle. Like most hiking trails we immediately headed away from the hills to walk a long route around a deep gorge. After essentially 5.5 hours without taking tne packs off it was a bit dispiriting, until we saw the 3 hares sitting on a rocky outcrop just ahead- could it be a chance for the tortoises to extract a win on a tough day.

A bit like a pit pony close to home the pace clicked up a notch and we passed them and another single walker to crest the hill just 2 kilometres from town. Downhill isn’t always that easy, so we ignored the pain and marched into Dingle, knocked on the door of the B and B, vaulted up the stairs and promptly crashed into the bed 6 plus hours from starting.

After a little recuperation and well and truly rugged we set off to town to dine at one of the recommended seafood restaurants. Well that was the first disappointed they were either closed or fully booked. Seems there is a mini invasion of Americans and Canadians at this time of the year in a town that lives on tourism.

We wandered around a town which abounds with B&B’s, bars and restaurants and found one around the harbour that we could squeak into. Looking for a bit of post dinner entertainment we made our way back to the Dimgle Hotel for some music and to catch a show with 5 time world champion Irish dancer David Geaney.
The place was packed at 800,surprisingly we got 2 prime seats in the corner. That lasted a whole 5 minutes when the band playing the late gig gave us the heave ho.

We managed to snuggle into a spot for one next to the bar and enjoy a couple of drinks and the first band. At 900 they was still no sign of the dancer, just the support band playing some great music which had a rollicking response. Managed to win a sprint for a spare two seats and get a good spot to watch what turned out to be an amazing display of dancing. There was a bit of crowd participation where volunteers were randomly selected – we thankfully made ourselves invisible. It was interesting to find out later that our Sydney neighbours kids had danced with this guy during Covid.

With the clock striking 11 it was time for two tired but fully entertained walkers to head home knowing it will be a tourist day in Dingle tomorrow where weather is predicted to be rainless and a little less windy.