Deidre collected us at 9:30 a.m. and we set off for the
Dingle Peninsula. We drove past Minard Castle, ancestral home to the Fitzgerald
family. This castle has not been restored and is not accessible to the public. We
stopped at Inch Strand (or Beach) to pick up objects to exchange in our renewal
of vows. Because we are approaching our 40th wedding anniversary,
Deidre asked us if we wanted to renew our vows at an Ogham Stone in a Kil
Macader churchyard, which is a traditional place for doing so. We replied in
the affirmative.
We stopped at the Fahan Beehive Huts, which are not in Fodor’s, but
which Deidre said were the best beehive huts on the peninsula. They were
originally built in 2500 B.C. and included a capstone that could be removed to
allow smoke to exit. The huts are corbeled with stones that gradually progress inward,
creating a dry interior without the use of mortar. Outside the huts, Deidre
picked up a lamb, which Abby petted.
We stopped for view of the Blasket Islands, just off the tip
of the Dingle Peninsula. These islands were inhabited until 1953, when a boy
died of a treatable disease because the weather was too bad for him to be
evacuated to a hospital. After that the government forbade the habitation of
the islands. Everyone had to move to the mainland, where medical assistance
would be more readily available.
Deidre drove us to Clogher Beach, where we followed a tour
bus that was backing down the one-lane road to the beach’s parking area. We
hopped out and walked down a steep ramp to a beach that had big wind and big
waves rolling in. “No swimming” signs were posted because of the steepness at
which the shore recedes from the beach.
We then went Kil Macader church, which dates from the 12th
century, and has an Ogham Stone in the graveyard, which is used for renewing
wedding vows. Through a hole in the top of the Ogham stone, we touched our
thumbs with our ring fingers showing our wedding rings. We exchanged wedding
vows and exchanged tokens of our appreciation for each other. Abby gave me a
cockle shell that she found on the Inch beach and I gave her a red sandstone
rock, red being the color of love or, as Deirdre put it, passion.
We stopped in Anascaul at the South Pole Inn, a pub founded
by Tom Crean, who was second in command to Ernest Shackleton during his voyage
to the Antarctic in 1914-1917. Mr. Crean enlisted in the British Navy at the
age of 15, but had to lie about his age since the minimum enlistment age was
16. He joined Ernest Shackleton’s Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition on the
Endurance, which became trapped and then crushed in pack ice. The crew escaped
to the uninhabited Elephant Island, and a boat was sent 800 miles to a whaling
station on South Georgia Island, from which Shackleton mounted a rescue of the
men stranded on Elephant Island. Shackleton returned his entire crew with no
lives lost. Tom Crean retired to his home town of Anascaul to build and operate
a pub called the South Pole Inn. I had a glass of Expedition Ale in honor of
Mr. Crean.
On the way back to Killarney, our last stop was at Aghadoe
Heights, where there is a beautiful overlook of Killarney and Lough Leane.
Someone with an American accent tinged with Irish took a photo of the three of
us overlooking the lake. Deidre was careful to show us how to get out of town
toward our next destination, Ballyvaughan. She was such a kind and thoughtful
guide that the three of us exchanged hugs and fond goodbyes when she dropped us
off at the Killarney Royal Hotel.
Our hotel package entitled us to a lesson in how to pour a
pint of Guinness in the hotel bar. The bartender declared that I was a natural,
and clearly had previous experience (I had not). Abby, not being a Guinness
drinker, was allowed to pour herself an Bulmer’s cider instead. She also proved
to be quite adept. We watched the second half of the Russia v. Saudi Arabia
world cup soccer game while we sipped our drinks. Russia won 5-0.
We stopped by the Shire, the only pub in Ireland that is
themed with Lord of the Rings. I had a Gandalf Ale while Abby drank a local
whisky. We walked two blocks to the Porterhouse pub for a supper of fish and
chips (me) and beef fajitas (Abby). We retired happily to our hotel after a
satisfying day on the Dingle Peninsula.
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