A horse rider and his three legged dog enjoying the solitude of Wine Strand Beach.
Standing within a peat bog in Dingle, you can't help wondering what Ireland was like before you and the other primates scrambled up upon its shores. When viewed from space, did it glow like a furry emerald within a sea of blue, the terrestrial equivalent of a massive marine plankton bloom? Hope Jahren
Clogher Head beach in all its ferocity.
As my hire car rumbled down the stoney track towards the Clogher Head Carpark, it started to bucket down with rain, yet again. From the comfort of my hire car, I looked out to sea through the splattered window, but instead of disappointment, all I could think was ‘Wow, nature, wow!’ Despite all the various ‘must see’ cliffs and beaches in Ireland such as the Cliffs of Moher, this was even more dramatic. The waves were huge and menacing and as they crashed, they made a piercing, thundering sound. At the carpark was a safe raised viewing spot with a fence and an open spot where you could (safely) walk down the beach to view the sea closer, and in all its ferocity. I took the few obligatory snaps with my Iphone, checked them and realised that nothing compared with the real thing and I didn’t even bother to post to Social Media. Back up on the viewing platform were four weary hikers with yellow, disposable, bulging backpacks. They didn’t even bother to venture down to the beach, only taking quick snaps before dragging their slumped bodies back along the narrow road, single file, to avoid oncoming traffic and heads down in an attempt to avoid the horizontal rain from blasting their faces. They were mostly likely tackling the Dingle Way in its entirety, and this was around the three-quarter mark. The Dingle Way is a 162 km trail around the Dingle Peninsula in County Kerry, Ireland. It begins and ends in Tralee and is typically completed in eight days. I recently stayed in Wine Strand, which sits just beyond this point on The Dingle Way, and this gave me a great opportunity to walk out and explore the Way from left to right without needing to complete it in a sequential order. When I first tackled the Way, I headed left, which meant walking mainly on the beach. The challenge of trudging through sand, seaweed and sludge was rewarded with not having to stop to negotiate cars and bikes on the narrow roads of the rest of the Way. At some point I had decided it might be an idea to return. I still had a lingering cold (thanks, Iceland) so didn’t want to push my breathing capacity any further. I had noticed a brown tourist sign which read: Dún an Óir, which left me guessing. In this region, many signs are only in Irish. Some of them are easy to work out. For example, the Gaelic word for Ballyferriteris Baile an Fheirtéaraigh; sounds similar, doesn’t it? But sometimes it is also known as Boolteens, still the same initial, though.
Gort na gCeann, (The Field of the Heads) sculpture by Clíodhna Cussen.
With a quick google check, I discovered that Dún an Óir translated to “Fort del Oro,” (In Spanish) or Fortress of the Gold. This is the scene of a massacre in 1680 when a force of 600 Spanish and Italian soldiers, who had been sent by Pope Gregory, were attacked by a 4,000-strong English force. When the invaders surrendered, all but the chief officers were executed. They were beheaded one by one with their bodies thrown in the harbour and their heads buried in a nearby field now known as Gort a Ghearradh (the Field of the Cutting).
The location of the original Iron Age fort Dún an Óir
I hadn’t taken too much notice of names of beaches as I meandered along, and when I returned home I realised the immensity of what I had viewed and decided to return. Looking up the distance on Google Maps I realised I had walked an hour and a half to reach this point and decided to drive instead. Whilst driving along, I decided to be spontaneous and follow the green signs. One of them kept promising Star Wars tours and views, which hadn’t piqued my interest too much given that I gave up watching the Franchise after the Empire Strikes Back. I had read that you could so sunset tours but I wondered what would happen if I followed the sign during the day. When I arrived at this carpark, I was faced with the typical handwritten signage, warning anyone that it’s a 20-minute walk and a donation box. The walkway was on private property and the owners had decided to capitalise on the use of their land for tourism. I considered this fair game as they did mention that it was for ‘maintenance’. As I headed along the path, I was happy that the site was indeed maintained with a few rocks with white painted arrows building my anticipation. Once I ventured into a larger paddock the trail became more vague, however, and I had to look down more carefully to work out which was a trail and which was just wind blown grass. At that point, I looked up to find myself head-to-head with a flock of around fifty sheep.
Having faced off with goats in Greece, I was left wondering whether to continue or not. My friend Sue had helpfully forwarded me an article about a hiker getting gnawed to death by a cow in Germany in Spring and, although it was technically Summer in Ireland (if you could call June Summer), the weather was cool and there were plenty of nature’s trappings of Spring around, including lambs of various ages and their protective mothers (by the way, there’s a tourist attraction nearby called Hold a baby lamb which must be a novel experience for anyone not from Australia or NZ). I started to think that this could be my punishment for not going on a paid tour, my karma for doing it on the cheap and not supporting commercial tourism. I oscillated between thoughts of feigning my existence by standing still and acting casual and scaring them off. Eventually I chose the latter and found that sheep are not cows (or goats) and they scattered, following each other like sheep (drumroll) as I made my way through the gauntlet of fleece and manure towards the cliffs. And what cliffs they were! I was at Ceann Sibéal or Sybill Head or somewhere near there, off the main Slea Head route and only accessible by walking through this paddock were the highest cliffs I had been on and with the least protection. Being totally alone I kept back, feeling thankful for not being a selfie-type blogger needing to pose as close to danger as possible. Although on private property, formal signage showed how proud The Dingle Peninsula population is that the Star Wars franchise chose their location for Star Wars VIII.
Ceann Sibéal in an area only accessible to pedestrian traffic through private property.
Ceann Sibéal in an area only accessible to pedestrian traffic through private property.
Ceann Sibéal in an area only accessible to pedestrian traffic through private property.
Signage at the top of Ceann Sibéal
Ceann Sibéal in an area only accessible to pedestrian traffic through private property.
By not feeling at peak form, I skipped the most famous peak of all in the region, Mount Brandon. I knew an eight-mountain climb would knock me around and I had already experienced some spectacular and challenging hikes in Cyprus, Greece, Malta and Croatia. I thrived on being able to choose from many historical and cultural sites to visit all no more than a fifteen-minute drive from Wine Strand and found that each drive itself was an experience, with spectacular bucolic and coastal views and that famous Dingle shifting light. To reach many of the sites I would pass through the little village of Ballyferriter, just around the corner from Wine Strand. Beyond the town I was continually struck with the beauty and immensity of a mountain that appeared to be mostly private property and used for grazing.
Croaghmarhin on the ascent
View from the top of Croaghmarhin
However, when I researched further, I found that you could indeed hike it. Croaghmarhin Peak or Cruach Mharthain is 403 metres high with a prominence of 218 metres. I wasn’t the only one impressed with its appearance: ‘Cruach Mharthain sits in the shadow of giants - with the awesome Brandon ridge a stone’s throw away - but has a presence that is not in any way diminished. A 4km long ridge rises gracefully to a conical peak that actually draws the eye more than those big brash neighbours. It sits pretty much on its own and this offers the opportunity for some stunning views.’ - Gerrym from https://mountainviews.ie/summit/813/ Gerrym went on to mention how he left his camera on the peak and had to reclimb it and arrived home at 11pm but recommended this as a unique route! Another blogger from the same website clearly wasn’t wearing the same-coloured glasses: ‘After another truly awful day of rain and visits to pottery shops, a brief clear spell presented itself in early evening, giving enough time for a quick ascent of Cruach Mharthain. Parked by the Mast (lots of space) at 340015 D, and walked towards the fence (gap to squeeze through), and followed the fence up hill to the summit. Superb views all around and only 25 mins to the summit, with the next band of rain & mist hurtling towards us we legged it back to the car and made for Curran's Pub in Dingle for some good Guinness.’
So, without any presumptions of perfect weather and for the umpteenth time, I set off on my usual route through the single lane road, car brushing the fuscias that grow wildly in the region, watching carefully in case of oncoming traffic, in which one of us needs to back up until it's safe to pass, and onto the two laned road past Bellyferriter and its charmingly colourful pubs and houses. But this time I was going to stop. Despite finding a hike on an app to follow, I couldn’t find any car parks on any apps or google maps so ended up at a farmer’s driveway and realised I was on the opposite side to the main hike. Having parked already I thought I may as well go for a bit of a walk and see what happens. This meant leaping from rock to rock to escape the road which had become a stream and negotiating some water and puddles. There was an open gate towards a paddock with sheep but fortunately they were happy to stay where they were. Continuing along the trail I rejoiced that it did indeed appear to be ascending upwards. No stranger to rocks and mud, I followed the trail around, endured a few light showers (I was used to it by now) and followed the trail as the incline increased and… stopped, just short of the top. I may not have made it to the top (but was only a few meters off) but the view from this side was spectacular and a great way to finish my time in the Dingle Peninsula.
Wine Strand, where I stayed in a delightful holiday house owned by a fellow home exchanger, appears to have two schools of thought as to the origin of its name. Some say it gets its name because of the dark colour of the sand (must be a red wine strand then!) and others say it is because according to local belief, several wine casks (not the Coolabah type) were washed up here when the Spanish Armada was shipwrecked in 1588, when tens of ships were lost in a fierce storm, along the western coastline. In addition to the beaches, I bore witness every night to the distant sight of two standing stones, on a hill surrounded by grazing cows. There are around 100 standing stones throughout the Dingle Peninsula and many are visible while walking the Dingle Way. These stones can be up to four metres high and are found on their own or in pairs or rows. I never found out the significance of these stones and they were on private property but I enjoyed their presence in different conditions of light, especially when house bound when it rained heavily for a whole day.
This site has fascinating further reading on the various standing stones in the region:
A Standing Stone near Slea Head Beach
Two Standing Stones on the hill in Wine Strand
Wine Strand Beach
The Dingle Peninsula is more than beaches, mountains and cute towns. It is the home of some rather significant and unique historical sites. On my daily excursions, I visited the Gallarus Oratory, the Fahan Bee huts, Reask Monastic Site and Rahinnane Castle (another donation based, walk across a private paddock visit). I also drove on balcony type roads that hugged the cliffs with barely room for another car to squeeze by. I used to brag that Australia had the best beaches in the world but the Dingle Peninsula dramatic cliffs and verdant mountains, are something uniquely special and worthy of any trip to Ireland. And the pottery shops provided the lovely ceramics and bathroom basin in my delightful holiday home recalling my 1980s ceramics education and learning about the Japanese tenmoku glaze.
Rahinnane Castle
Reask Monastic Site
Gallarus Oratory
Fahan Bee huts
Some reading I enjoyed whilst in Wine Strand: