Gobble Up Turkey

Friday 9th October 2026

Golf in Roganstown Plane to Malta

The whistling wind and rat tat tat of rain on the window pane  were  unwelcome guests overnight as we lay awake thinking about the game of golf on the Championship course at Roganstown.

The weather App showed 10 mm of rain overnight and winds still to be the predicted 60-70kph. 

No use laying around panicking so we headed for breakfast and splurged on a late checkout so we could get dry and respectable before our flight in the late afternoon.

Arrived even before the Pro, who probably thought that nobody would be mad enough to pull around a cart at 800am in these conditions. He was wrong and we were on a mission to conquer the course.

Got our 9th free golf ball, a set of brand new Taylormade golf clubs, a good old fashioned pull buggy and a ‘ you won’t find many people out’ goodbye from the Pro before sloshing down to the first tee box.

The shape and width of fairway and abundance of bunkers suggested it might be a harder test of our limited ability than yesterday, as did the 5 stroke blowout in handicap.

Thankfully first hole was with the breeze and with a swish slosh splash we were off on a beautifully manicured course whete the robot mowers are smart enough to cut a pattern along the fairway.

Most of the holes, even Par 3’s were long and protected by bunkers and water. The water often ran across  or along to catch errant shots -aka mine.

The rain abated after 4 holes, so the jacket hood could come off, but the wind made the 11 degrees feel like 7. It was a day for hitting low trajectory shots else the wind would have its way with them. Even on the greens the ball would get blown off course. 

We did see 3 Greenkeeper , 1 bloke in a cart and innumerable robot mowers over the course of the first 7 holes before tracking to the other side of the course.

Made no difference with 8th hole needing a driver, 3 wood and 4 iron to nearly reach the green into the wind and it was a Par 4.

The ninth hole, a 190 metre Par 3 over the water was the signature hole of the course. No water for us but plenty of hits avoiding it.

Decided to soldier on for the back nine and it was tougher and more spectacular as a golf layout. Little wonder national and international events are hosted here,

Had the highlight of the two days on the hardest hole on the course. Followed great drive with a shot into trees 100

metres out and then whacked one 8 feet past the cup on steep downhill. Thinking lucky 4 or probable 5 I walked up the green only to see a gust of wind start the ball on a fortunate journey into the hole for a 3 and 5 Stableford points- half my total the back 9.

That gave me 29 points for which I was gratefully. The course triumphed over Jane despite her hitting some pretty good shots. It will surely whet her appetite to start using her news clubs when we get home.

Finished the game in no rain and slightly reduced winds, before grabbing a shower, tidying up and enjoying lunch and our last pint in Ireland.

A cab driven by a Kiwi who lived a chat about any sport, particularly rugby, had us at the airport some 3 hours before takeoff.

The Ryanair on ground experience continued to befuddle us, unlike the streamlined security and customs. Jane’s  new knee didn’t even set off any alarms and initiate the full body frisk which she is now starting to enjoy.

Sat around and managed to get front row seats on a packed flight.

Arrived in Malta around 930 and were soon through the arrival rigmarole and in the courtesy car heading for our accommodation in Nacaar . Sure he was an ex racing car driver for 30 minutes we were on the bumper bar of every car in front.

Arrived at Naxaar at the 3 Chapels B and B. Up three flights of stairs and across our private rooftop patio to a room that takes you back many centuries to Arabian nights with a beam and fabric  ceiling , brightly coloured walls and Arabic furniture. We are about 400 metres from the Mostar Cathedral. Can’t wait to see the area in the light of day,

Just to run some salt in about our bathroom renovation it has a 3 metre square walk in shower.

Thursday. 8th October 2026

Golfing at Swords

Enjoyed the first lay in, if you call 730 a lay in, in preparation for our challenge of the Swords Open course.

A circumspect breakfast for a day of what lay ahead of us on our first foray into Irish golf.

Arrived rugged up at the Pro Shop around 1015 in weather that according to BOM felt like 7 with rain forecast for around 3. A very obliging Pro Shop worker had us kitted out with pretty flash new Taylormade Clubs, new bags and a couple of sleeves of balls.

Got an earlier start than scheduled and wandered down to practice putting green where we asked where the sand buckets were. That earned a quizzical look and a ‘we don’t fix divots here the staff do that’. Well that’s one distraction we didn’t need to worry about.

The greens were immaculate and extremely fast. The grass on fairways was lush and good lies were assured if tou stayed in fairways.

I quickly dipped into the ball stocks losing one in the light rough on the first hole. Remarkably the open nature of course meant it was the only lost ball between us.

The fairways are cut continuously by little green rbpt mowers who seem to follow you around, they present great quality fairways and even have rules specifically written if you hit one or they run over your ball.

The course was pretty forgiving with wide fairways, but the fluffy fairway lies meant no run. Many of the Par 3 holes were quite short whereas the 4 and 5’s were long by Massey Park standards.

We managed to get 9 holes in before the rain arrived and the last 9 were played in wet weather gear. The bunkers are unforgiving with one trapping Jane and having her swinging wildly for a long time before hitting out sideways- partners coaching tips were not well received after the first 4 swipes. Thankfully I only had one shot in a fairway bunker.

The course was reasonably full on a competition day but we moved along steadily managing to finish first 9 in 1.75 hours.

The back 9 was a little tougher but we still managed to finish in 3.75 hours, unlike a few locals who called it a day after 12 when the rain picked up.

We didn’t break any records with our scores, but it was enjoyable and a good warm up for tomorrow’s early round on the Championship course which hosts national and international events. It’s likely we might put a dent in ball stocks over there.

Dropped off the gear, dried off and had a late lunch in the clubhouse, with about 6 people. It’s amazing how few members play and support the club, especially when the two have more than 1400 members combined.

A bit of a lazy afternoon planning how to fit a game of golf in and get to the airport to fly to Malta, especially given we are likely to be drowned rats if the forecast 7mm of rain and 70kph winds arrive.

A very light dinner and couple of drinks before heading back to prepare our bags for tomorrow. That ended avert but enjoyable day here at Swords.

Wednesday 7th October 2026

Dublin to Roganstown Golf Resort

A bit bleary eyed after the noisy night we jumped up and headed to breakfast in what we thought to be the cafe next door. Ended up being an upmarket Hostel and for a great €13 eat all you can buffet breakfast.

Walked the town for a little while down towards the Spire and Portal ( a camera set up in many capital cities across the world where you can wave to the locals) to find where the buses left for local township of Swords where the golf resort we will play at for the next two days is situated.

The streets were crowded with a very eclectic mix of nationalities. All seemed to have one common trait- never let a red light stop you crossing the road unless there is a tram coming.

Back to pub to store the luggage under the watchful eyes of 6-8 locals imbibing in their second and third pints at 1000am.

Headed off for a walk along the Liffey down to the Harp Bridge passing many remnants of the docklands history, including 2 blokes over 80 rowing a boat which looked as old as them using oars which looked like giant matchsticks and had no blades. An hour later we saw them coming back downstream taking advantage of the current.

Headed to the Temple Bar region, supposedly the area where Van Morrison kicked off his career, finding the actual Temple Bar. Already decorated for Xmas it was packed with a crowd enjoying the atmosphere of good drink, food and music.

Lunched on a square bench with a flock of pidgeons and starlings all awaiting a crumb to drop from the exotic pasties we grabbed to eat.

Did a little more wandering, then collected the bags and jumped on the bus headed for Swords for the princely sum of €5 for the both of us.

It headed out via the airport and picked up half of the Ryan Air flight staff who jumped off at a village aptly named Airside. Like the crowd walking the streets of Dublin they were a mixed bunch.

Jumped off at Swords a pretty lively village and manage to collar a cabbie just leaving the bank and he took us out to the resort which hosted two golf courses Swords and Roganstown. This area has 8 courses within a 10 km radius looking at the map.

A very grand place only 24 years old with the feel of a Concord Golf Club attached to a hotel. Our room looked onto a tough hole we would play tomorrow.

Checked our bookings for the next two days, did a bit of attire shopping as you do in an overseas Pro Shop and then wandered down to the adjoining 1st tees of the two courses.

Both looked challenging, but were beautifully groomed. A group of 4 aspiring Rory McIlroy’s were teeing off to be followed by a few other groups at 430 in the afternoon. Glad we were not in front of one who cracked a 200 metre drive without even a practice swing.

Wandered to the other side of the course and watched a Kids Clinic before popping out of the wind for some hydration in very posh surroundings.

Returned later to the bar come dining room for a pleasant meal in a sparsely populated room. Sat and checked weather for next 2 days and we might be getting chased by some typical Irish weather, particularly Friday with winds between 40 and 75 kph.

Tuesday 6th October 2026

Camp to Dublin

Early breakfast, including my favourite porridge, dressed in civilian clothing and no boots before wandering down the road to start the transport journey.

Short bus ride to Tralee followed by another short train ride to Mallow and then the long drag into Dublin.

Managed to give Mitch the grandson a call for his 22nd birthday using that very handy WhatsApp

facility on the way to Dublin and wrote a few blog bits to wile away some time.

Bade farewell to our Canadian walking partners before grabbing a taxi and battling our way through traffic to ‘the accommodation’ in town.

When you turn up to a pub that serves pints from 700am and no food since Covid it was no surprise to get the welcome we did.

Jane was propositioned 3 times before she reached the bar and I got harangued by a couple with a combined IQ of about 40. The less than helpful barman come receptionist didn’t help the initial impression.

It is the first time our ‘book a reasonably priced hotel or apartment accommodation’  method seemed to have failed us, especially when the room was at the top of a steepling staircase.

The statement of yesterday about ‘ not having killed each other’ was about to be tested until we walked into a lovely big room with a big shower and bed , plus complimentary nibbles.

Unpacked a bundle of walking clothes that could almost walk their own way to the laundromat given most of the time they had only had the shower and sink wash. 

Then a walk through a pretty dicey area with lots of homeless, drug /alcohol affected to the safe haven of the laundromat. It was quiet until an irate guy arrived at the adjacent dry cleaner and starting yelling and banging on the shutter to collect his clothes. Seems he missed closing time by a couple of mi ties or the lady took an early minute.

After spending 5 minutes complaining to we 3 customers and getting no support he shuffled off pretty miffed and without clean clothes.

A bit of a walk along the river and then out to a busy restaurant for dinner and a more discreet walk home on bones and muscles that seemed to be rebelling against a no walking day. 

Made a discreet side door entry and then had a night listening to yelling and screaming patrons and pedestrians and the hum of local trains and buses.

Monday 5th October 2026

Famahore to Camp Junction

Managed a fair bit of nightly exercise slapping the swarm of flies that had basically overtaken our room overnight.  Wasn’t much different in the Dining Room and can only imagine it’s the smelly kelp on the beach outside that attracts them.

Had my first Irish Breakfast (only a 1/2) of the tour and it was ok- I was still craving my Irish Cream porridge.

The day’s trip was rated as moderate , but having pulled up 5 Kms short yesterday it meant almost 20 Kms on beaches and country lanes followed by side stepping routes along major routes.

Vasco was working overtime trying to plot the shortest route possible to keep us off main roads and onto beaches.

Worked out way through some sleepy backroads with paddocks full of cattle and horses and the paths getting a workout from people giving their dogs a run.

Well all of those scallops on the menu last night could only have come from one place and that was the first beach we walked on. Most of the boats that filled the harbour were missing and plying their trade of the coast. The beach was littered with shucked scallop shells, with enough to keep the Camino walkers of Spain supplied for a year.

The sandy beach was getting encroached by the tide and seaweed and we were soon up on the erosion mitigation pebbles which made for slow and slippery progress. 

The track returned to the beach and we were soon upon a water park with paddle boats, kayaks, surfboards and beached pontoons. It had the obligatory saunas for those wanting to warm up after a bracing swim.

Again Mt Brandon , shrouded in cloud, had a never ending presence over our shoulders and a memory of the climb and aching muscles of days gone by.

After just on 2 hours we arrived at Castle Gregory the official finishing point for yesterday. It was a fabulous little village where we enjoyed a midday coffee and cake with a lovely Irish couple. They were just preparing for a game of golf at that, now confirmed, famous 9 hole course for a mere €100- it was their second day in a row and they were effusive in their praise of a ‘ wonderful windswept layout’.

Today’s walk beckoned so it was off down a country lane picking blackberries as we wandered along a lane just wide enough to walk two abreast. 

The countryside is dotted with a mixture of derelict old farm buildings and some grand buildings, many of them converted old barns.

Finally found the beach which flowed off into the distance with the tide continuing to encroach.

With many a stream to cross where it met the sea it was a matter of taking boots off and walking barefooted, sometimes on heaps of seaweed which felt like cotton wool under the feet.

If we had led an errant teenage lifestyle you might say we were back on the weed again.

No other walkers in sight but a few joggers, dog walkers and a lone swimmer. He didnt stay lone for long as we were progress bound by the tide, so it was into nude bathing mode for me to enjoy what could be described as bracing weather. There was definitely a George Costanza shrinkage moment. 

Didnt think anything was caught on camera until seeing Jane’s FB post – never trust a woman pretending to be eating a sandwich when the silver foil is secreting a camera.

Didn’t last long in the water so it was lunch watching the tide ebb out before a barefoot scramble across some rocks for more beach walking.

Reached the last ‘stream crossing ‘ and it was flowing waist deep like the Colorado River, which meant backtracking about 600 metres on talc like sand to a bridge leading to a Caravan Park. 

Donned the shoes again and went up past the park, almost devoid of patrons. One thing that did make us giggle was a Gypsy caravan reminiscent of the one we stayed in about 12 years ago in Rome.

The quiet road led us onto a busier road which meant frequent trips onto the edge and amongst the blackberries(not all that bad when you can grab a few for sustenance).

Had to laugh at the sign on the local rifle range 

Redwood Rifle Club – No Shooting.

Only in Ireland.

A half an hour of dodging ended up in the pub at Camp Junction and the official walking end to the Dingle Way. Managed a celebratory G and T, with owner saying

‘Just pay when you come back for dinner’. Can’t imagine that happening back home.

Up to be greeted by the garalous owner and faith dog Hugo before starting to work out what needs a good wash when we get to Dublin and what is wearable.

Had dinner and a few drinks with a couple from Canada who we have met along the way, before an early night knowing the boots won’t be scootin tomorrow. 

Sunday 4th October 2026

Cloghane to Famahore

Bloody forecasters got it wrong again and it’s a wet and windy morning greeting us for a day to be spent predominantly on the sands of the longest beach in Ireland. Needed to correct the mountain story about yesterday after a local on the beach confirmed its third highest behind two to the North with unpronounceable names.

Unfortunately we didn’t catch up with the young Irish lass who is related to a couple of golf buddies, but did finally confirm she worked there.

Enjoyed the now fabulous breakfast, albeit without the Irish Cream porridge, and donned the wet weather gear for our only hill of the day – out of town on the tarmac.

Seems the farming community has been hit by hard times with a raft of deserted homes being passed on the trip. The fishermen are also pretty peeved as most of their ports are filled with French boats who are maximising their quotas under EU trade arrangements. You best not mention politics over here they hate their own, EU and particularly DJT.

Made some swift progress on the road with the usual car dodging. For the first time we struck some significant forests which were dark and dank , with the mist plus wind making them ideal ammunition for a leprechaun story for the locals.

About 7 Kms in we turned onto Fermoyle beach , with its 11 km stretch earning the longest beach moniker. It was a pretty docile sea and the two points at opposite ends of the bay were joined by a rainbow.

Plenty of action on the beach with walkers, wind surfers, swimmers and the most laid back fisherman ever – laying back in a recliner with his 3 lines set.

The tide was creeping up the shoreline, but we were teassuted by a local we would make it, but there might be spots where you get your feet wet. Those couple of sentences turned into a 15 minute conversation including the question of whether we knew his cousin Paddy O’Rourke in Sydney.

He was right with the wet feet as we crossed three streams draining into the ocean which were about ankle deep and too wide to jump.

The dogs were loving the beach bounding into the surf and generally tearing about, no dead fish or birds for them to find but they did manage to come upon a dead grey seal.

The shore line dunes were covered with various stone and timber walls trying to resist the erosion. It was particularly impressive along the edge of the 9 hole golf course which according to locals is ranked in Top 20 – 9 hole courses in the world. Might just have to fact check that one after the mountain story.

Three or so hours in we found a lunch spot tucked into the dunes constructed of a surfboard, crab pot and rocks. It was a nice spot to take the packs off and get out of the wind on a day where low cloud and mist shrouded Mt Brandon which was back over our shoulder all day as a reminder of the long way up yesterday.

Soft sand walking is not made for rapid progress and the headland at beach end seemed to take an eternity to reach. Pretty ironic that we passed a Ned Kelly like statue as we popped up onto the rosd when we finished the sand.

Walked a while with a local having a chat about anything and everything for about15 minutes only to depart disappointed when he advised the pub didn’t open for 3 and a half hours. He did confirm the belief that Kelly was of Irish decent and was particularly proud of it.

With check in at 330 and with several other walkers arriving from Canada we decided to form a Commonwealth United NegotiationTeam and see if we could get an early access.

We were quickly disarmed by a lovely host who had us all in our rooms immediately , albeit with luggage until 400. It was great accommodation with amazing water views and a sauna and indoor pool in the Leisure centre. The place was abuzz with a function , so we cooled our heels in our room taking in the view.

Caught up with the emails and news back home before the luggage arrived and we could humanise ourselves.

Ended up traipsing back into town to the pub for dinner where again an Aussie lass was part of the team. We had actually talked to her earlier in the day when she recommended a pub in another town 15 minutes away. Having taken 15 minutes to get from accommodation we couldn’t be bothered going any further and opted to eat there.

Food and grog was plentiful, if not more expensive than elsewhere- guessing it was the old captive audience syndrome.

Wandered home in the dark chatting about the Canadian guy being responsible for designing / building the ski facilities for the Whistler Winter Olympics and testing out rides on Skeleton, Luge and Bobsleigh courses – I was nervous just listening.

Arrived home for our last sleep before walking the relatively flat 18 Kms to Camp tomorrow.

Saturday 3rd October 2026

Feohanagh To Cloghane

Pulled back the curtains and the old Dinah Washington song ‘What A Difference A Day Makes’ immediately sprung to mind with sunny skies and hardly a breath of wind. That augured well for a day where we couldn’t avoid crossing the shoulder of MtBrandon  at a mere 800 and something metres up.

Had a great chat with mine host who like her daughter had a background in teaching Irish to the kids at school. Learning Irish to preserve the culture is mandatory, unless you are overseas born.

Like everything else at the B and B, breakfast and the takeaway lunch was great and within half an hour we had enjoyed a circuitous car ride in magnificent surrounds to reach the trail head.

Attempting this walk yesterday would have been an absolute no go and the weather left it’s mark with the track a mini stream and anywhere off it a bog waiting to send you boot deep in mud. That was to add to the long relentless up for the first hour and a half and then the lung busting 60’ degree surge to the top.

There was plenty of opportunity to stop and take in the great coastal views as you wondered where the next lungful of air was coming from.

Only a few people on the trail and they at least gave you a marker to follow. The cairn at the top was a welcome sight.

The towns below were but a speck when we took off downhill on a very different surface of stepping stones , still wet from yesterday and often steep and covered by foliage. Thank Lord  for the walking poles for balance.

To our amazement we ran into a bloke carrying a bicycle up the path and we had no idea how he was going to get down. We did see his car at the bottom so perhaps there was a secret road hikers were not told of.

Even us getting down presented a challenge where a land slip from high on the hill had covered the path. Getting through that was a wet and muddy exercise.

Halfway down it flattened out a little and we had lunch at a sheep drenching station.

From there the road, if you could call it that, meandered its wat steeply downhill with our usual sheep buddies giving us a curious look. Another 90 minutes and we were in flatter ground after about 18 Kms. 

Vasco pulled out the map and detected a shortcut which could cut the last 8 Kms in half and we were in it in a flash. Whilst a lot of local cars used it and buzzed us, the stop to let them past provided plenty of time to take in the view and increase the sugar levels by supping on the the luscious blackberries.

We followed the shores of the huge bay on which our quaint hotel was situated, finally flopping into the bar to be greeted by a boy from Batlow and a few other walkers who had taken a cab or managed to find a shortcut.

One had got clipped by a local farmer whose tea and sympathy was ‘ you shouldn’t be on the road where I am driving’. Thankfully no major injury was sustained unlike his walking partner whose blistered feet was a worse injury , along with 5 stitches in his head from an argument with a low door.

An enjoyable half hour being entertained by mine host over a couple of beets before lugging the bags upstairs to our spacious room with a splendid view out over the camping area to the bay.

Bit of a rest and tidying up for a great night with a couple of Aussies from west of Toowoomba swapping stories about walks and holidays and the usual jibes between cameras and cockroaches.

Just on critters, we were warned about some mossie borne disease happening in Europe. When we went into our room after dinner there was one that big you would need a blood transfusion if it bit you.

We didn’t quite make the 930 music and went to bed mulling over whether it’s boots or bare feet on our 11 Kms of beach walking tomorrow.

Friday 2nd October 2026

Dunquin to Place starting with F

A quick look out the window and about 100 metres was the field of vision with driving rain beating on the window. A quick check of the forecast showed 15mm of rain expected an an Irish Zephyr gusting up to 75kph.

Dropped bags downstairs and was warmly welcomed with ‘ I am not ready for you yet’. Saved a caustic response and retreated upstairs till 830. Seems 30 minutes is enough time for someone to swallow a charming pill and welcome us and yet another Canadian couple for breakfast.

The feed was plentiful and Amos The Nrw even let us knock up a takeaway lunch.

Packs on along with poncho we retraced our steps in howling wind and sideways rain. As we reached the pub our friend Amos turned into the driveway – seems he had some unfinished business.

Decided to take an alternate route early on to avoid the beach walk as it was high tide and big seas. The route was on a quiet country lane and took us out past a craggy headland which had volcanic origins. As we looked ahead we could see more features that had a similar shape. A group of 3 were ironically named the 3 sisters.

There were no real streams to cross just streams of water tumbling down the sides of more busier roads we had transitioned to. The very courteous drivers give you a wide berth other than one who pulled up directly in front of us. and ran to his boot. There he plucked out two hi viz sashes telling us it was safer with them when walking on busy roads, especially when our ponchos were black and blue.

Now looking like Postman Pat we marched along the tarmac no drier, but hopefully safer. With attitudes matching the bleak and grey conditions after 2 hours in horrendous conditions an apparition appeared before us in the shape of a hotel – on a day where Amos’ sandwich was going to be our only sustenance.

Given the nearby beach was a film set for Star Wats it was no surprise to be welcomed by two character statues. Popped in and enjoyed some cockle warming Irish Coffee and a chat before pushing on – warmet and more cheerful.

In Jane’s first interview for a job with the BOM she bravely predicted that the weather had improved. Just like a forecaster she got it wrong and for the next hour the wind howled and rain was sideways- as my irreligious golfing buddy Dougie Walters would say’ it was raining heavily enough to wash away the sins of the local priest’, apologies to my Catholic friends.

As time wandered on the pleasure of walking on the road diminished and we headed back towards the coast. With the tide on the way out the sand was our friend for a couple kilometres. At least the howling wind and driving rain dampened the sand and we didn’t have our legs exfoliated. It did still make communication difficult from ant further than 2 metres and looking into it stung the face.

The local footy field was an errant kick from the beach and you could only imagine if you won the toss you would run with the wind on a day like today.

Unfortunately the day’s normal trail finished just passed the end of the beach, but with low accommodation availability we were 4 kms past it. The bonus is we get a 4 km head start tomorrow on what is the hardest day of the walk – 26 kms including a climb over Ireland’s highest mountain – did I hear taxi.

Local lady gave us some tips on an alternate route whilst no shorter did avoid a cliff walk which might be dangerous in today’s conditions.

Chicken Little and Jane decided on the road in conditions that got no better as we seemed to go around in circles. Finally passed the last bay visible from the road and wound our way into the village and our accommodation ( winner of best country B and B last year) after 5 hours in the saddle.

Greeted by a charming young man who had nly one piece of bad news that was our baggage didn’t arrive for 30-45 minutes.

Got out of most of the wet clothes and hung around till it did arrive which we celebrated with tea and apple pie before washing up and becoming human again. Seems the weather Gods had thought we had been suitably punished and the wind stopped and the rain abated.

Got a ride to and from the local pub where we enjoyed dinner music and the craic

Ah another day in Ireland – windy one day windier and wetter the next.

Thursday 1st October 2026

Dingle to Dunquin

Getting addicted to the Baileys Cream porridge and it was exactly what was needed for another day spent traipsing the hills along the Atlantic Coast. Thought we would give ourselves a head start on the 26 Kms day by taking a 10 minute bus ride to Ventry, but a late in the day misadventure soon diluted that benefit.

The bus ride was a chance to listen to a local talk about the woes of Ireland and that bloke in the US- we could but listen intently.

Got off at Ventry and headed down to the boardwalk on the map, which was essentially the beaches were in for two surprises . Firstly a bundle of wild water swimmers, mainly women, all attached to floats making their way across to the adjacent beach. Not sure it would be an easy landing with the kelp and rope like seaweed covering the beach.

Then we looked like having to join them with the tide still high and no access. Decided to pretend to be mountain goats and clambered our way along the seawall to reach the safety of the beach.

The Atlantic and a lone sailing boat was our pal as we trod the sands for the next hour or so as the tide slowly subsided. That said there were two creeks to cross which thankfully had bridges, well at least for Jane. I decided to try and ford one which was a little deeper than it looked and ended up with wet boots for the rest of the day.

Off the beach it was through lovely little clumps of farms before heading up onto the main road to visit some ancient ruins and as it could only be in Ireland, a Fairy Fort, with its myth board giving the story. There was also a cafe , with no food, where we sipped on a hot chocolate.

It was adjacent to a petting zoo which had a collection of animals depicted in the grandkids book collection. There was Shaun the Sheep, Macca the Alpaca, Wonky Donkey and of course Peppa Pig. Joined the rest of visitors and gave them all a feed then headed to the hand washing station. It was like Covid had returned with the Swedish family in front more like preparing for major surgery than washing their hands.

It had been a bit of a detour so we backtracked to join a country road. Past some ancient farms and what had to be the biggest proposed cottage restoration ever attempted. One wondered why they didn’t simply knock the place down . Must say it had a great view over the ocean. After that it was a tricky 500 metre ascent along sheep trails to a high contour on the mountain. The sheep with their colorful marking to depict ownership and what treatments they had received were reminiscent of a football club parad with the red white and blues, the red and whites, the red and greens and the purples. The prominence of red white and blue might have been an omen for the NRL GF.

Then the inevitable tumble town hill to a creek, thankfully with a bridge, for a quick flat walk to round the corner and some magnificent coastal views along with the uninhabited Blansky Islands. It was the wild Atlantic coast to a T.

Made our way down to the road above the beach for a closer look, it had all the traces of the Ryan’s Daughter movie which was also shot here. Shot being the operative word as the filming was a real shot in the arm, with a week turning into 5 months and overspending by 4M whatever’s with the prevailing currency.

The Blasket Passage was a notorious area for shipwrecks reaching back to the Spanish Armada. The beach is apparently popular for surfing and the rolling waves were testament to that.

The path followed the coastline where waves crashed against the craggy cliffs and way off island. So mesmerised were we that we missed the turnoff to our accommodation and realising it about 2 kilometres from home.

Hungry, wet and wind blown we made our way to Kreugers Bar, supposedly warm and welcoming as eell as being the furthest west bar in Europe. Granted on the geography, but major failure on the rest. A request for a meal was knocked back because a tourist bus was coming and that would swamp the kitchen, but they could give us a bag of crisps.

A late lunch early dinner was our best option as accommodation was too far to walk back in the weather. Remarkably the hungry bus people just lingered around drinking beer and coffee and eating cake and when they left the swamped kitchen opened again. Jane’s comment to a local about the servce elicited a ‘well they are tourists” and her response was then what are we – Martians.

Ended up eating there more out of circumstances than desire to give them our trade. Finished it up and headed to our accommodation up the top of the hill, but no mine host- just a note to ring Amos.

Arrived 10 minutes later and lo and behold he was James” they are tourists’ man from the pub’. Seems he wa happy to have these tourists stay at his place. If it had not been raining it would have been fabulous because it had uninterrupted views out to the islands.

We must have interrupted his drinking because it was a ‘Here is your key and breakfast is at 830 no earlier’ . In a passing gesture of kindness he indicated that he would turn on the electricity to heat up the water which should only take 20 or 30 minutes.

Cold and wet waiting for a shower is no fun but at least it gave a chance to read about the inhabitants of the Blasket Islands. They were indeed a weird bunch, speaking their own language, living a subsistence lifestyle with no water or electricity. When the population reach 21 in 1953 the Gobernment ‘evacuated’ them from the Island. It’s now just a spot where the local ferry takes visitors for adventure tours – weather permitting.

I pondered if our welcomes to pub and home were just a teaser for what they might have endured. With no working tv and crappy internet it was a very early to bed.

Wednesday 30th September 2026

Dingle for a Day

Even the feet were happy today with the only walking to be around Dingle. Started the day with Baileys on the porridge and finished it with an Irish Coffee, think my Irish heritage might be showing through.

Had an interesting chat with host who said his business is fully booked 9 months of the year as are the plethora of other accommodation venues in town. He spends the other 3 months basically doing maintenance.

The fishing industry has had an interesting change with many chasing the Euro through ocean tours rather than catching fish, they call it from Idle to Rich.

It’s a big tourist town with the main focus being food, drink, local products and the ocean. Unfortunately ocean related activities were out of the question with seas whipped up by the strong winds. Even seeing the big attraction Funghi the performing dolphin in the harbour was off the card. as he is dead and only a statue now. That seems to have been missed in the brochures.

The fishing port was also full of trawlers due to the weather.

We meandered through the streets visiting every shop in town,along with the bussed in American tourists, to kick the economy along. Like our previous experiences in Italy our timing was out with festivals with the big food festival starting this weekend. It’s hard to imagine how crowded it will be.

Given it was only food and drink left to explore we visited the recommended Fish Box restaurant. Seems the 50 people lining up the street outside had exactly the same idea. Line soon subsided and we were dining on the local seafood washed down with a little Guiness.

Having tried the famous Murphy’s ice cream (chocolate and of course whisky) yesterday we passed on tne dessert and did some more wandering including visit to collect our laundry. If boat tours are a good earner laundry isn’t far behind.

Quiet couple of hours doing the logistics for tomorrow given the mixed forecast and a relatively difficult 24 km hilly route. We might take a 6 km bus ride to shorten day to avoid mid afternoon rainfall.

Off at 630 in the going out clothes for a drink at the hardware store come bar and then a traditional Irish Dinner across the road before chasing down an Irish Coffee to have a womb to tomb alcohol day. I don’t think I have a drinking problem, but I am working on developing one at the moment.