Dingle!

The process of getting to Dingle was quite a long one. many times on this trip I know I could have shortened my days by renting a car. That day was most definitely one of them. After 1 ferry boat ride, 3 different bus rides, I was in Dingle! 8 hours later.

I checked into my hostel which was a 6 bed hostel and was exhausted. After a quick stop at the grocery store and a dinner of a goat cheese salad with bread it was my intention to blog a bit and go to bed.

Lesson learned. When you sit in the public areas of hostels, prepare to make friends. That evening I met 2 American guys who had been travelling together and had rented a car for their adventures so I was able to find out their experiences of driving on the left. They spent around $200 for 3 days of car rental (WHOA) but said that driving on the left means you have to stay constantly alert. I can see how, as I would be so afraid of not paying attention and next thing you know I woulod be on the wrong side of the road. Or right depending on how you see it. (:

I also met a Swiss woman named Rachel and a German man named Alex who who both traveling alone and we all compared travel stories. I then went off to bed and the others went out on the town. Can you believe it? Yes, Jessica passed on the opportunity to go to a pub!

The next morning after a quick breakfast of yogurt, toast, and a banana it was time for my first tour of the day. It was an archeological tour of an area known as Slea Head. There were 9 people on this tour and it was fantastic. The guide was a quirky old Irishman who was light on his feet and quick with the jokes thrown in amidst the vast amounts of information.
At the beginning of the tour he took us to this huge mansion (see Flickr) which was built by Lord Ventry and where there were several Ogham stones which were grave markers from the 4th-7th century. Apparently during the 19th century it became trendy to take these stones from their original locations and place them on your lawn, he said it was like they were the flamingos of today. (:

American woman on the tour: Is there a way I can get a pamphlet of all of this information or a book or something?
Tour guide: Have you heard of Rick Steves? Do you have his tour book?
American woman: Umm yes I have heard of him and I do not have his book but I am sure I could get a copy of it.
Tour guide: I wrote the chapter for him.

And there you go! That is when you know you are dealing with a professional.

Tour guide (sorry I cannot remember his name): See the lichen on the stones? That is a sign that the air here is clean and healthy. If we were in Dublin or Belfast the stones would be black. So breathe it in, because for now it is still tax free.

After Lord Ventry's house we journeyed to a stone hut that was built in the 1100's and used for worship services. Along the way he regaled us with stories of the flora and fauna. Apparently Lord Ventry brought fuchsia to the region which grows all along the roads. It is just beautiful.

Tour guide: See all of that fuschia? In Irish it is called "deora déithe" which literally means god's tears. Fuchsia grows like a weed here, it drops on the ground and a plant grows within no time. Whereas in the States you buy a plant for $20 and it dies immediately.

Apparently the soil is so acidic in the region that hydrangea's naturally grow vibrant blues and purples. We saw the Blasket Islands from afar including the island known as the sleeping giant with his hands on his belly because he is full of Guinness. It was a fantastic tour and one I was sorry to see end. But it was on to the next tour!

What. A. Nightmare. I booked a boat tour around the Blasket Islands which was supposed to be entertaining and informative. instead it turned into a 3.5 hour nightmare with 21 out of control french teenagers. There were two male teachers with them who just let them run all over the boat screaming and obstructing all of the other adults views. The poor tour guide just gave up talking about the region as he kept having to talk over them. It was quite frustrating and unfortunate. Ah well, it is the bad tours that help you to appreciate the good tours even more!

One interesting thing I learned on the tour was that around the Dingle Bay there are two towers both built during the famine relief schemes. During the famine the British Government would employ the Protestant population to build random projects to improve morale and convince people to convert to Protestantism. Thus, if you converted you would be given work, and pay. The tour guide said that some people would convert, work on the project, and then convert back. Interesting times.

After landing back at the docks I watched a regatta that was occurring for a bit. It was kids around the ages of 10 who were in these long boats racing against each other. It was very interesting to watch.

That evening I decided to go out for drinks with a few people from the hostel and it was most certainly a cultural exchange. With live Irish music being played in the background there we sat. Me, a Swiss woman, a German man, an Italian man, and an American man. We all shared our preconceived stereotypes about people from each country and it was pretty amusing. They all said that they thought Americans were obese and lazy, driving huge cars, leaving all of the lights on, and eating McDonalds all the time. It was interesting to juxtapose this conversation with my television viewing last night in Cork. Of course on the tv was a documentary about an American man who was obsessed with overweight people and had been attemping to help his wife to get as large as possible and photograph it along the way. At the time of filming she was over 700 lbs. No wonder they think this about us!

After a couple of drinks it was time to head back to the hostel to get enough sleep for my big hike the next day. I went hiking with the Swiss woman, Rachel, who was just so pleasant and really enjoyable to be around. We decided to take the numbers of taxis with us, but try to hitchhike up to O'Connor's pass to hike from there. Both of us had never hitchhiked before and were quite nervous about it. it is widely accepted here and people do it all the time. The elderly woman at the hostel didn't bat an eye when we told her our plans and she said we would be sure to find a ride as people around there were so nice. So we set off to hitchhike. See Flickr for my preferred hitchhiking pose. We both were armed with knives just in case, but were crossing our fingers that the only thing we would be using them for was to cut up our apples at lunch. (:

I convinced Rachel to ask an elderly woman at the gas station for a ride, who kindly obliged! It was such a strange feeling to be climbing into a strangers car but she was very sweet. She gave us a ride to her house which was nowhere near where we were going, but it saved us about 20 min worth of walking. We then set out to walk up to O'Conoor's pass debating on whether we should try to hitchhike the rest of the way. It was a gorgeous day with sweeping views of the mountains in front of us and the bay with its bright blue waters behind us.

Ireland is so small of course as we are walking up the road we run into two bikers who we had met at the pub the night before. They were part of a motorcycle gang called the "Freewheelers" and had offered us a ride, but I got a weird vibe and decided the night before that we would most certainly be not taking a ride from them. Thus when we ran into them they asked why we didn't want a ride and we acted like we were really enjoying hiking up this road in the blazing sun! (:

Once we got to the top we chatted with a woman who had been hiking by herself in front of us the whole time. She was Irish and on holiday in Dingle. She was hoping to hitchhike into the Brandon Bay. Everyone here hitchhikes! Crazy.

After reaching the pass Rachel suggested we climb to the top of a mountain nearby following a road alongside of it. 20 minutes in the road disappeared and we were trudging through marsh, shoes were soaked, sheep were baaing alongside of us and I was wondering how we were going to get down. We reached the top of the mountain and had the most amazing view. We ate lunch and took a brief catnap in the sun. Note: I got sunburned in Ireland! Can you believe it?

After our catnap it was time to trudge oops I mean hike down the mountain sans trail. Note: Of course I had been picking up trash along the way and Rachel exclaimed "I cannot believe an American is picking up trash, can I take a picture of you?" I was happy to oblige.

This hike was a test of my ability to be comfortable with having no idea of where I am going. Rachel was totally relaxed and kept saying "Didn't you want an adventure?" while I kept thinking of plans B, C, and D. Most of which consisted of calling a cab whenever we got to a road as we had no idea where we were. We eventually made it to a road and a farmer drove by and stopped to chat with us. He was very surprised to run into two people from countries so far apart walking down his road. He informed us of the way to Dingle and my fears were assuaged. He then informed us that there was an old stone bridge coming up that was quite wonderful.

After our brief chat (which the Irish love to do) it was time to hit the road. The blackberries were blooming and we were seriously slow in our return in that we were eating them all along the way then decided to collect them for dessert that night. We saw the farmer two more times driving back & forth. He was very jovial and pleasant to chat with.

The stone bridge was verry pretty, built in the 1500's, and had a beautiful stream running below it. See Flickr for pictures. Lord Deputy Grey marched over that bridge with 800 of his men in 1580 to kill 600 men, women, and children in Smerwick Hrbor that had surrendered their position. Pleasant isn't it. Of course by now it is in an idyllic setting, it is hard to imagine what it must have looked like back then.

After our return to Dingle, 7 hours later we plotted how far we had walked. 10 miles! Whoa. I retired to my cosy 6 bed room and Rachel went for a run. Seriously. Wow. I had to pack up my belongings as I was taking the 7:15 bus out of town the next morning.

That evening after a lovely meal of pasta courtesy of the kitchen at the hostel Rachel, Alex, Manual (the Italian), and I decided to go watch the sunset at the old lighthouse and drink some wine. We waited too long to leave so we just sat alongside the water with cows behind us and beautiful views in front of us. The cows were quite inquisitive and came very close to us. So cute! After the sun went down we had a beautiful view of the stars. Rachel regaled us with her astronomy knowledge and Alex then decided it was time to dance. In the field. He has taken a few social dance classes and showed us the "Rock and Roll" dance which is a variance on swing dancing. It was quite a fun time. I remember looking at Alex and Rachel dancing in the field, only the dark outlines of their bodies was visible with the stars all around us, music being provided by my phone, and thinking, this moment will stay with you forever. People can be in your lives for just a moment but they make impressions on your soul. These people did that for me.

Dingle was fantastic, a place that came highly recommended and somewhere I could stay for much longer. But alas it was time to see more of the country!