IRELAND DAY 8 - SLEA HEAD LOOP AND DINGLE

Breakfast at the inn is lovely as were seated in a round space with 180 degree windows overlooking all of Dingle.  Today we’re off to explore the Slea Head Loop, another hunk of the Wild Atlantic Way that navigates the Dingle Peninsula.  We’re down the road by 9 enjoying another day of cool sunshine.  We see a sign and stop to visit some local livestock, and I get a kick out of the donkeys, sheep and lambs following me around, and the cheeky little goat who kept head butting our shins for attention made us laugh out loud.

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We stop to see two ancient ring forts, 1000+ year old structures that served as home and defensive position for early inhabitants of the area.  Dunbeg Fort which sits right on the Dingle Bay but has taken much weather damage in the last few decades as the cliffs erode.  Cashel Murphy is a just down the road and sits higher and away from the waters edge, so there is more to appreciate.  This structure housed five pre-Celtic families and also hosted their Druid rituals.  It’s technologically advanced for its age, with underground chambers for food storage and to hide in the event of an attack.  More fascinating is that the three main chambers align with the stars of Orion’s Belt, indicating some understanding of and appreciation for astronomy.  Near Cashel Murphy, and completely unmarked as an attraction, is the Stonehouse Restaurant, an architectural wonder of all stone – including the sloped roof.  Unfortunately, there is absolutely no information that we could find, on-site or on-line, about this crazy structure, so we just enjoy checking it out and wondering how the hell they did that.

Stopping in Slea Head itself, we’re treated to great views of where the Dingle Bay meets the Atlantic and a stunning roadside statue of the Crucifixion.  We’re not big into religious iconography, but we appreciate it as a beautiful piece of art made more moving by its cliffside location overlooking the sea.  A bit further on we stop to explore some more ruins and ancient structures including a beehive hut, another impressive example of stone stacking.  We soon come to realize that this is no tourist attraction, rather, the structures are still in use today as part of a working sheep farm. 

We pull into the parking area for Dunmore Head, the high mountaintop which has recently been popularized by the filming of Star Wars: The Last Jedi there.  In our opinion, this place’s connection to The Force is the least impressive thing about it.  Down the steep, blind drive past the parking, there’s a beautiful, secluded beach with a 300’ rock face as the backdrop, a crescent of white sand and blue blue blue water crashing in.  Hike up from the lot and it’s another in our Irish-top-of-the-world series, this one with thick, springy green grasses, blowing wind and great views of the Blasket Islands.  Easy to see why this is a camera-ready location.  We’re learning that in Ireland, every next view is more impressive then the last, and it just doesn’t get old.

We finish the loop back in Dingle and decide one more short adventure is in order.  We continue east past town and up to Conner Pass, the top of the mountain chain between Dingle and Cloghane.  The roads are narrow, steep and twisty and cars coming the other way seem to be having a hard time maintaining their lane just to add to the excitement.  Thanks to the rare stretch of sunshine we’re having, the 360-degree views seem to go on forever.

Back in the village, we take lunch at The Fish Box, a place that looks like it would serve fast food, but actually has an extensive selection of fresh local seafood.  It gets rave reviews for their fish and chips, which is highly competitive in these parts, and the reviews are very well earned.  Mandy is loving on the Buffalo Hake, meaty chunks of the fresh fish tossed in a very respectable wing sauce.  After, we spend more time walking around town, but many places are closed on Sundays. 

We take a long, luxurious nap at the B&B, part of the plan of Dingle being to just relax and slow down.  It’s 7:30 when we venture out for dinner, and it’s the first time this trip that our no reservations, just wing it plan gets a little stressful.  Half the restaurants are closed and lots of the open ones are fully booked.  We’re checking out the menu of the Marina Inn when the big group of old guys sitting out front, all with pints in hand, start cheering for us to come in.  We know a fun invitation when we hear one and the group erupts into applause when we take the bait and walk through the gate.  We’re chowing on Mackerel fillets and a burger when a local 30ish guy walks past our table, stops, points and says “I know that guy! He was singing last night!  I should get his autograph!” 

 

Last stop of the night is Foxy John’s.  Foxy John’s was a small-town hardware store, the type every little burg had back before Home Depot.  Time worn floors, oil-stained counters, and wooden cubbies with boxes of everything from light bulbs to screws to plenty of pest poisons.  Somewhere around 2004, they shoved a row of shelves out of the way and put in a bar and a few seats.  That’s literally all they did.  They never emptied the rest of the hardware store, and we’re pretty sure you can still buy that bar oil there on the shelf, but I’m not sure 25-year-old lubricant would do your chainsaw any good at this point.  Nor are we sure what the American health inspectors would think of the boxes of Rat-B-Gone looming over our seat.  Tonight we’re sticking to a few pints of the other Irish lubricant.