To say I was not in the best mood when I got to my room at Doolin’s Aran View Hotel is a bit of an understatement.
If you’ve been following my solo motorcycle adventure around Ireland, you know I left my cosmetics in Dingle and had to go out for a bite to eat and explore the Doolin village all pony-tailed and fresh-faced. I am not a super fancy kind of gal, but I do like to dress it up a LITTLE!
Ok, so I’m standing up against the bar, elbows tucked in because the place is packed awaiting the live trad music, and chatting away with a very young fellow. I really didn’t even think he looked 18, but he was sipping on a pint, so who am I to question? This very articulate young kid starts chatting away about how quickly I decided on both my food and my drink and commented on how impressed he was. Stifling my smile, I thanked him, asked him where he’s from and how he found himself here in Doolin.
He was here with a former exchange host from Switzerland whereupon he introduced me to the man at my left. I noticed this man when I first walked in as he reminded me so much of my oldest brother. The “not-my-brother” introduced me to his daughter, clearly dating the 18 year old from South America. Forgive me, dear readers, as I’m writing this almost a month later and their names have slipped my memory.
I had a great time chatting with this beautiful family and when a very cute, very blonde little girl came up to her dad, he lifted her up and introduced her as well. My heart ached for my own little blonde girl at that point and I could feel the lump form in my throat. I asked her if she knew anyone from Canada and she shyly shook her head no.
“Well, my name is Deanna and I’m from Canada, so now you do!”
I said I would like to be her friend and asked if I could give her a little Canada pin. She was over the moon and immediately darted back through the crowd with her pin. I laughed and told her dad about my own little girl whom I missed dearly. Moments later another little blonde girl appeared and looked at me with her huge, blue, hopeful eyes. I laughed again and asked if SHE knew anyone from Canada. When I gave her a Canada pin she too ran away. Moments after THAT a darling little boy appeared and we repeated the ritual. I looked at her dad and said, “How many ARE there?” He laughed and told me seven. What?! I didn’t have that many pins in my pocket! Not to worry, those were the only “Littles” in his group. Swiss Family Robinson was exactly what I needed to ward off missing my own babes.
After sharing my fries with the Littles, I set off on down the road. I approached the Doolin Hotel and three very beautiful ladies laughing and carrying on. I love laughing and carrying on so I stopped to say hello! We had the best fun laughing and talking as they informed they were there on a “Henny“. At home in Canada I’d call that a stagette. When I shared my oh-so-sad story of forgetting my makeup bag, they invited me to their room for drinks and a makeover.
When they presented me with a veritable steamer trunk full of makeup, I passed on the makeover. I’m just really not that fancy! We did have a great time before moving on to the next phase of their henny. There is nothing quite like hanging out with a bunch of beautiful, fun loving women to make a girl feel like “one of the gang”!
After enjoying their company for an hour or so, I bade them farewell and carried on. I opted for a pub with some live music and a slower crowd. Although I don’t recall the name of the pub, if you find yourself in Doolin it’s easy to find. Just keep walking up the hill from the Doolin Hotel and you’ll find them all :)
After a time I noticed people approaching a patron sitting close to the musician and posing for a selfie. Hmmm. Now I don’t have a clue who this person is, but I’m pretty sure I want a selfie with him too! During a set break I approach this fella and open with,
“Hi! How you doin’ tonight? My name is Deanna and I’m here on a bit of a motorcycle adventure from Canada. That’s relevant because I’m hoping it will excuse any potential offense stemming from my next statement…I have no idea who you are, but everyone else here seems to! May I have a picture with you too so I might add it to my adventure blog?”
We all had a good laugh, he tells me his name and advises the lovely lady to his left is the real star. She smiled coyly and I told the fella that was a good thing ’cause she was way better looking than he was anyway ;) Again we all laughed. After Dermot Whelan graciously posed for the picture, I asked him to type his name into my phone because I was having a hard time with his Irish accent and I’d need to Google him later to figure out who he was. Again laughter, so it would seem that I did manage to avoid offending!
Me and Dermot in Doolin. And yes, I DID Google him ;)
So that was fun!
I should also mention that for the first time since I arrived in Ireland I met some other bikers! Easy to spot by their vests, we hung out and talked about the great riding experiences on Ireland’s roads. They were Irish, so I expected them to just say, “yah, it’s ok”, but they were just as excited as I was to talk about riding! When I reached in my pocket and found only one pin left, they had a bit of a scuffle. It was charming and I promised I’d look for them the next morning as I had plenty in the pocket of my motorcycle pants.
As it turns out, on my way out of town in the morning I really did see the fella in the middle (the scuffle winner). I hauled off the road and hopped off my bike to say hello, goodbye, and to give him another pin for his buddy.
Doolin was full of lovely people and I enjoyed every chat, every encounter, and every bit of my very short stay!
I love people. I love all people and I love talking to all people. Sometimes this annoys companions because I’m always striking up a conversation with the person next to me in line, or beside me on a plane/bus/train, or in an airport, or in a busy street…basically if you make eye contact with me, I’m going to chat you up. Chances are pretty good, too, that you’ll be left with a smile because that’s just the way it works with me.
I knew I’d meet some great new people before I even left home, and I knew I wanted to make sure those people had at least a small idea about how much I loved talking to them. How could I show my gratitude for sharing a story, a smile, or a bunch of laughs? Why of course to share a bit of something that I love dearly; Canada!
We’re rather quiet about our patriotism here in Canada, but it’s also something about which we are very fierce. Just try us out by asking from which part of the United States we’re from ;)
The local MLA was my last stop before leaving home and I picked up a hundred little Canada flag lapel pins.
Over the course of the 19 days I spent touring Ireland, I had dozens and dozens of conversations with some of the most interesting people with whom I’ve ever had the pleasure of chatting. 100 pins were not nearly enough!
After chatting for a while, I’d say something like, “Hey, I have a little something that I like to share with new friends I make along the way, may I give it to you?”
Naturally, curiosity peaked as I reached into my pocket and pulled out a little pin. Immediately the recipient attached my little bit of home to their shirt, jacket, or hat with a huge smile. That smile in return for such a small thing was always so precious to me. It was like a great big hug every time I saw my Canadian flag pinned to a new friend. As I think back to all those smiles as I type this, I find myself sporting my own trademark grin!
Here are just a few of my most memorable pin sharing moments:
Doling out my pins to my gambling pals in the middle of nowhere and watching as they ceremoniously donned them with pride was great fun. But when I left the pub an ancient fella sitting on the periphery of our antics shuffled after me. Before I put on my helmet he came up to me with the biggest smile and asked if he could have a badge. How could I have left this wonderful human out of the sharing? It was a lesson to be more aware of those around me for sure! I reached into my pocket and gave him a pin and asked if I could hug him farewell. He was thrilled to have a pin and told me he’d once been in Canada so many decades earlier. For him to come after me for a Canada pin just about made my heart explode with all the good I felt at that moment. I think I was more thrilled than he.
The old fellas at O’Donnell’s in Donegal. When I walked in to THEIR watering hole, they were nonplussed to say the least! I’m sure they thought I was in the wrong place, and when I pulled up a stool at the bar, even the bartender was surprised I was staying. There was really only room enough in that pub for about 6 people and I was not an expected member of the group. It took a while for them to warm up to me, but by the time I was ready to leave, they were sad to see me go. They all put their pins on, but I admit their old twisted fingers needed a little help.
- The old couple on the ferry behind me. Such beautiful, loving people.
- The bikers in Doolin – small scuffle as I had only one pin left!
- The gals in Westport – such lovely people and so ready to share all they had
- Michael and Deirdre at Brandon Head – such laughs we had!
- Mike S. in Killarney – Great Craic!
- Jeff and Jackie’s kids at the Rossmore Manor B&B – cutie patooties!
- Swiss Family Robinson’s kids in Doolin – made me feel like part of the family!
- The farmer at the Chinese takeout spot in Killarney – we stumbled through a great conversation as I strove to understand his heavy accent, but in the short time it took for our food to cook we laughed and shared our lives with one another.
- My not-really-related-to-me-Jordans-but-I-say-they-are-anyway Jordans
- Mike (I think Irish parents are legally obligated to name their first born Mike) who picked me up and dropped me off when I rented a car – huge thanks :)
- Sophie – beautiful soul shared her table with me in Westport! Gorgeous smile, infectious laugh -amazing sense of humour -such a welcome companion
- Tony the pub owner on the way to Slieve League Cliffs – historical lesson, travel tips, and the best lunch time chat!
And Tom. My steadfast, albeit over only a few hours, friend and new pen pal, Tom. A beacon when I needed it, pointer-outer of the hot coffee at a highway stop, rain-dodging guide to Westport, finder of Deanna-friendly parking, finder-of-a-great-cafe, and so proud to wear my pin! Thanks for being there, Tom!
I am truly blessed to have met so many wonderful, life-filled, heart-rich people in Ireland. With a hundred pins handed out and days and days of conversations without pins to share, I couldn’t possibly name them all here. But as you read my stories, just know that all those wonderful characters have a little Canada pin.
The ride to Doolin was one of the most enjoyable I’ve had yet. It was more than just Conor Pass, my (mis)adventure over the ferry ride or deciding whether or not I had time for the Cliffs of Moher. It was frame of mind that made the day so pleasant too. Ok…if you check out my back stories you’ll know my frame of mind was a little on the fretful side for a short while, but overall peaceful.
When I arrived in Doolin I was struck by how small it was. It seemed like such a sleepy little village compared to the hustle and bustle of Dingle! I was due for some sleepy village time so I made my way to the Doolin Hotel. Unfortunately, they had no record of my reservation. Ummmm it’s the bank holiday so if I’m not staying HERE, I’m not staying ANYWHERE! My frame of mind went from peaceful to…well…the opposite of peaceful in 3.7 seconds.
I had the gal at the front desk call Paul at Celtic Rider for me and he advised my reservation had been changed. He’d provided me with an updated itinerary, but I already had my itinerary in a neat little organizer so I left his (updated) version at their office. I missed the “updated” part of his dialogue oh so many days ago when I first picked up the bike. Anyway, ever patient man that he is, Paul told me I was at the Ironview Hotel. OK. cool.
After hanging up I asked the gal for directions. She pulled up Google maps and told me to turn left, go left up the hill, left at the top and it would be right there. On my left. Easy, right? Well I learned a few things in my first 20 minutes in Doolin.
- I learned that not all people know how to read a map. For example, if it looks like a left on Google maps, but you don’t know which direction you’re facing, it’s actually a right.
- I learned that it is entirely a fluke accident when your map reader confuses left from right repeatedly and you actually DO end up at a bed and breakfast.
- I learned that when you are a biker and you don’t take your helmet off when you knock on the door of the (wrong) B&B and an elderly lady answers, there is a good possibility that she’ll think you’re a bad guy (or bad gal) and will actually shoo you off the door step.
- I learned if you are persistent, albeit from a safe distance off the door step, in your plea for help there may be a kid hanging in back of paranoid old ladies with an iPhone to give you directions after paranoid old ladies slam the door.
- I learned, perhaps THE most invaluable piece of information ever, that when a Canadian hears an Irish person say “Ironview” over the phone without the advantage of seeing the speaker’s lips at the same time, the Canadian won’t know that word is spelled “Aran View”.
The elderly lady at the front desk of the ARAN View is not at all afraid of my bikerness (’cause I’m so not scary!) and offers to call me a cab to get back into town. She did, however, tsk tsk me as I didn’t have a lot of time; food would not be available past 8:00 pm in town and it was now about 7:30. I assured her I’d be down in 15 minutes.
My kit virtually exploded as I tore through it digging out clean clothes only to discover I left my cosmetics back at Pax House in Dingle!!! Now I’m not a super fancy kind of girl, but after washing the road grime from my face, it would have been nice to girl-ify myself just a little! Sporting a fresh face and pony tail, I bounce down the steps, eager to jet off in a cab towards town so I can quell the nausea stemming from my growing hunger.
“Oh! You’re quick!” remarks the elderly front desk clerk.
“Yup! How long until my cab is here?”
“Oh, I haven’t called yet dear. Did you still want to go?”
“Um, yes please?!” Argh! I thought we’d already settled this point before I madly tore apart my bags minutes before.
I’m pretty hangry by this time, but it’s not Dave’s fault that my (probably) five minute wait felt like hours, so I smile and ask how his night is. He’s just started his shift so he’s in fine spirits and even though I’ve asked sweetly (and hopefully not at all desperately) for food, he decides to take me on a bit of a tour first. Maybe I should have pushed the desperation bit.
As he points out all the places that do NOT have food, but great craic, I wonder if he notices my head spinning around on my shoulders or the fire shooting out my eyeballs. Now Dave is a super sweet guy, but I’m telling you in my serious state of food deprivation I find myself dabbing the corner of my mouth wondering what his spleen might taste like.
We finally arrive at a food place and I have the door open before he can suggest yet another tour. Before I leave he fishes out his business card and instructs me to have the bartender call when I’m ready to go home and he’ll see to my safe return to my hotel.
Awwwee! Thanks Dave!
I REALLY need to work on having food handy so I don’t miss out on any more great people moments due to my hanger.
I’ve had “meat on a stick” and sticks and boards are not SO different…I guess…
After wolfing down my bunless burger served on a piece of wood while I was sandwiched between revelers as I stood and ate at the bar, I set out to see what else Doolin had in store for me.
And it had a LOT!
- Swiss Family Robinson
- Beautiful People
- Gracious Famous Guy
- Fellow Bikers
I’ll share links to these stories as I write them, so please be sure to check back! I’ll even have a picture or two and a video so it’s worth the wait :)
Leaving Dingle I headed up Conor Pass. It was absolutely stunning! The parking area for stepping out and taking it all in was absolutely nuts and I was sort of forced into a shitty spot. I’m noticing a huge change in myself in this regard though. I was forced to park in a stupid spot…ok the spot wasn’t stupid, it’s just that I drove straight in rather than back in and I was on an incline.
Ok, I know. It doesn’t look so bad, right? But it actually WAS a bit of an incline that I was pushing up to back out. Plus also I’m really not that big. Plus also I have a lot of stuff in my cases. Did I mention that I’m not really that big? And the bike IS?
I’d not be able to get my bike pointed back in the right direction on my own. So anyway, this is how I’ve changed;
In the beginning of my adventure, my self-talk would have looked more like this: “Dammit, Deanna! What the beans is wrong with you? Are you ever going to learn to back in? Argh!”In my head now, however: “OK, it’s no big deal. I’ll just ask yer man* for help!” <I really love the way the Irish speak…I’ll have to do a glossary one of these posts>.
Once a nearby foursome was done with their eleventy ninth selfie and had the selfie stick safely stowed I asked for a hand. And yah, I did start with “You don’t know me, but…” and followed up with a bit about what I knew about them…waiting for eleventy nine selfies gives you a lot of time to get to know someone. Or someones. Four someones to be exact.
No really…it was fun.
Ok, maybe you had to be there, but I seriously DO find fun in the weirdest places sometimes!
So once yer man had me pushed back and I was off and spinning, I really relaxed into the ride <yah, I’m so over what “ride” means in Ireland!>. Unfortunately I forgot to turn on my helmet camera to record Conor Pass, but you can see a YouTube video on this earlier post.
From there I headed up to Brandon Head to have a look around. Gorgeous country side. Beautiful day.
*yer man = “this guy”, “some guy” “that dude”…you get the picture…
My trip from Dingle to Doolin was filled with some fabulous opportunities to chat with really great people. Beginning with getting a push at the top of Conor Pass and learning about the hunting practices of ocean birds at Brandon Head, the day proved to be full of promise! I left Brandon Head and continued along the coast to Tarbert to catch the ferry across the River Shannon. The sun was shining, my spirits were light and I hadn’t a care in the world! I even had time to stop at a roadside antique store along the way.
Although there was no way I could make even a small purchase at the quaint little antique shop (motorbikes are tricky that way!), I did have a lovely chat with the shop keeper. Her husband is a biker too so she certainly understood my passion for riding. She asked about my route and I shared that I was looking to catch the ferry and head up to the Cliffs of Moher and then on to Doolin. “Oh! My dear you should really get on the road because that ferry only runs until 6:00 in the evening!”
Sigh.
Again.
I hop back on my bike and zip off toward the ferry. By my calculations, and Gretta weighing in, I should have about 30 minutes to spare before the last ferry pushes off. However, my planning has been off a time or two before so no more stops for me! I’m quite enjoying the ride and didn’t even realize the soft bends ahead were leading me to the ferry terminal until I saw it.
The ferry pushed off and sailed away.
Without ME!
I was the only one at the terminal and it was now 6:00 pm. Yup…my timing was stelar. And way off. And now the last ferry just sailed off without me! Ok, no panic yet, but I’m getting closer.
Am I sleeping on the asphalt next to my bike tonight?
Is it going to rain?
Do I have any of that chocolate bar left in my pack?
Argh! How could this be possible? I walked up to the little terminal building. Locked.
Ack!
I’m starving!
I’m dying of thirst!
I have to pee! Like Hide and Go SEEK Pee!
I need a nap!
Oddly, however, I’m still waiting for panic to set in. Two weeks ago I’d have been beside myself with worry. Now? Not so much! I mean I’m not REALLY starving to DEATH! I’m peckish. I’m not REALLY dying of thirst…the water lapping against the wall isn’t helping, but technically I can go a day without water if I HAVE to. Not thrilled about the prospect of sleeping beside my bike, I wander down to the water to have a look while I eat the melty remnants of my left-over chocolate bar.
About 20 minutes go by and another vehicle pulls up. Wahoo! Either this someone knows the ferry schedule, or he/she/they have enough room for me to curl up in the back of their minivan if we’re all spending the night on the dock. Either way, things are looking up! We chat and it turns out they don’t know the schedule either, but they have kids so I KNOW they have food in there somewhere…
OK, it wasn’t such a big deal. The ferry arrived not long after; just long enough for me to chat with a fellow traveler about photography and the endless opportunities for “The BEST shot EVer”. We all board and I hop off my bike to take a look around.
There’s a mini van with two very old folks looking at me completely without expression. Hmm. So with my big goofy grin pasted all over my face I give them a wave. They both grin back and wave too. I’ve just unpacked my camera so I saunter over to the van. The old fella behind the wheel rolls down his window and I say “Well hello there folks! How you doin’ today?!”
Then I realize that’s pretty much all I’ve got at that moment and they might very well be leery of me – strange biker that I am! So I follow-up with a story about not doing so well on inclines, just want to warn you I might stall on the way off the ferry!
Gad. What?
Oh well, that’s my opener so I’m running with it! Actually, maybe not so far from the truth with my luck!
Anyway, we have a fantastic little chat and we laughed and laughed. I wish I could remember what we talked about, but I CAN tell you they suggested I visit a town called Doolin. Well that was great news because that was exactly where I was headed! They assured me I would find some great music and fabulous food. As I‘ve done on several occasions, I told them that I have a little something that I’d like to share with them. Whenever I meet new friends, as I now considered them both to be, I share a little Canada flag pin. I asked if I could give one to the old fella and he happily accepted my little pin. Then I asked his wife if I could give one to her as well. She was thrilled and they immediately pinned them to their shirts.
I love, love, LOVE that every time I share my Canadian flag pin with a new friend they immediately put them on. I love that. It makes me feel like they’ll remember me when they see that little pin and think about the laughs we shared.
So I said good-bye and headed up to the top of the ferry to take a look around and maybe get some of those great shots I’m always looking for. I hadn’t been up there long when a fella joined me and asked if I’d seen any whales or dolphins yet. Whaaaaa???? Super cool! Of course I abandoned my attempts at photos and looked not to the sea, but to the sky – after all, I am now armed with sure-fire signs of dolphins!
We were skunked that trip. No whales. No dolphins. No sea birds. But I HAD made three new friends, not to mention my Brandon Head pals earlier in the day. After watching my fellow whale seeker/new found friend pin his Canadian flag to his hat, it was time to return to vehicles as the ferry dock grew on the horizon.
As I pulled off the ferry I noticed in my mirror the old fella was waiting for me to get well on my way before he put his van in gear and followed me off the ferry.
I LOVE Ireland!
Leaving Dingle for Conor Pass was a bit nerve-wracking. It’s Ireland’s highest mountain pass and I knew it was going to be one tight and twisty turn after another. I admit I’d lost some confidence over the round-a-bout incident and I’d built this Pass up to be a death-defying feat like none I’d faced to date.
With Paul’s gentle encouragement from the day before still whispering persistently in my ear, I set off for the Pass. He was right…of course…I needed to push on and not allow myself to give in to the momentary desire to park the bike for a few days. Conor Pass was gorgeous, twisty, and the very reason I chose a motorbike as my mode of transportation in Ireland! I’d only been on the road for about 10 minutes when I found that strength again and no longer feared the twists, turns and narrow bends I’d dreamed of while I planned this trip.
The view from the top of Conor Pass before I started my descent (the real glory of this ride)
Check out this video from Eugene Murphy to see what I had the pleasure of experiencing on a very sunny day! Yet again I was too caught up in what I was feeling to remember to turn on my helmet cam!
I’m posting this about three weeks after I was on that pass and listening to Ralph McTell sing Clare to Here puts a ginormous lump in my throat. I miss you Ireland and can’t wait to see you again!
After the Pass I enjoyed the ride down to Cloghane village and then on to Brandon Head viewing point.Riding to Brandon Head I was struck by my own sense of courage. I was DOING this!!! I cannot begin to describe the lack of faith I had for those few hours after the lorry passed within inches of me. To feel the wind upon my face again, to feel the joy in my heart as I rode along the coast, and to understand that I had pushed past my fear was exhilarating…it was…empowering!
When I reached Brandon Head and gazed out over the ocean, I felt peace. If you know me at all, you know that’s something I rarely used to take time out for…too many things to finish, too many things to think about. But not this day.
My apologies for cutting off the top of my head! My gorilla pod slipped and I hadn’t noticed until I checked footage that night :(
Naturally making friends where ever I may find myself, I learned from Michael how to identify dolphins! Although none were about that day, Michael explained how the gannet will hunt for fish. If you see several of them hunting together, it’s a sure sign dolphins are forcing fish to the surface thereby bringing in the gannets! I saw one or two here and there, but nothing like he described, so no dolphins for Deanna.
That’s ok because chatting with Deirdre about her hitch-hiking escapades from Toronto to Calgary when she was a young twenty-something girl was well worth the trip to Brandon Head!
This was the tale of the Pass…read on for Ferries and Panic :)
It turns out that enough of my posts elude to this story that I figured I’d better get it written.
Hopping on a bike in Ireland has been amazing. That’s not even a big enough WORD for it! The tight curves, the gorgeous vistas, the incomprehensible age of everything around me; it all continuously steals my breath. There have been times of fear as well, however. Like that time when I thought I was going to lay it down coming around a deceptively tight curve on my way to Kinsale.
You know those pictures of bikers on a track when their knees are nearly touching the asphalt? Yeah…that was me…and I could have sworn I saw sparks flying in my mirror off the foot peg on THAT one!
It was made all the more exciting by the look of shock and awe on the face of the fella driving the white van headed straight for me. I can tell you he had blue eyes and was missing at least one tooth.
So I leaned in hard, made the curve, righted her again and leaned in to the next one. Incredible. Exhilarating! Mind blowing riding! Without time to think about how close I’d just been to getting intimately acquainted with the bumper of the toothless, blue-eyed guy’s van, I just rode through the adrenaline.
But this next one really shook me up.
It was a few days later and I was leaving Killarney. I’d had a great time my first night hanging out with Mike, but the next night was pretty tame to ensure I was on top of my game the next morning.
I entered the round-a-bout, yielding to traffic on my right and proceeded towards the third exit. Unfortunately, a big lorry entered from my left, failed to yield to me, and proceeded to drive straight for me. I only caught him out of the corner of my eye because I assumed traffic would yield to me as I was on their right. He didn’t. He kept coming. By the time I realized he had no intention of stopping I was squeezed into the centre of the round-a-bout. This wouldn’t have been an issue were it not for the 6-8″ curb encasing the flower bed and statue in the centre of the round-a-bout.
Squeezed in and pee-my-pants (not really) scared, I was over as far as I could go, my front tire was kissing the curb and I was going down. I came down on the curb and the bike came down on me. And the lorry was STILL coming! I had huge in-my-face visions of a whole lot of squish-ed-ness as he was only inches from my front tire.
I scurried out from my between the BMW F 700 GS and the hard concrete curb and looked around. Surely someone would stop and help me out of this pickle! Traffic zipped by and the fella in the car behind me sat gaping and waiting for me to get out of his way.
DUDE!
I marched up to his window, knocked, and asked if he’d help me pick her up so I could clear the round-a-bout and get out of his way. It’s a big bike and I’m clearly not a big person to lift her up alone! He did, I hopped on and zipped off thinking only about clearing the round-a-bout before I found myself in trouble again.
It wasn’t until much later that I thought about having been within inches of that truck…
Although I wrote about the great good time I had in Dingle earlier, I wanted to share a few pictures that weren’t available then.
It had been a rough day for me, so by the time I arrived, I was pooped out, starving, and feeling bummed about only staying in this gorgeous location only one day!
This is me as soon as I got in my room. Thought a pic was in order to capture my mood, but snapped the shutter before I was ready! Like it anyway.
My first stop in Dingle after I showered away the road was Out of the Blue for dinner. This restaurant was amazing and I just loved their menu! I had the cod and it was magnificent! After dinner at Out of the Blue I set out for Dick Mack’s. This was where I learned what riding means in Ireland.
From Dick Mack’s I made my way to Foxy John’s. I ordered another pint of cider, but after one sip I thought better of it. The cider here always tastes like more, so I opted for a glass of water instead and hung out talking to a few people at the bar. This is where I met Gareth and shared my map about all the best pubs in Dingle.
From Foxy John’s I set out for the Yellow Bar (forget the name of it, but it’s painted a super bright yellow and that’s what everyone calls it anyway sooo….This is where I saw Gareth again hanging out with two lovely ladies, so I joined their table and we watched the Irish dancers swing about to the accordion and guitar trio. It was a right good bit o’ craic for sure!
From there I headed to Paul Geaney’s and had my eleventy two seconds of fame and met Paul and Samantha. That place was a hoot (because I had my eleventy two seconds of fame, naturally!), but I pushed on to see what else there was to see.
I found myself back at Foxy John’s and it was now absolutely full of people. This is when I finally noticed the hardware store part of the pub. This place is the craic at night!
when I took my picture the fella looking at the blonde’s hand thought I was taking HIS picture! When I laughed and said I was taking a picture of the hardware store, he looked disappointed. So then this happened and everyone was happy again.
I went back in the morning before heading out of town for a daytime picture only to find a lady buying a shovel. Too funny!
After the picture to complete the Foxy John’s experience, I set out for Conor’s Pass. I was a bit nervous, not knowing what to expect in terms of twists and narrow bends, but still determined to completely put the previous day’s ride out of my mind.
Going back a few days on this post, but it was an interesting enough day to warrant a post.
I missed seeing quite a bit while in Killarney, and was just so tired that I didn’t relish the thought of hopping back on the bike. I’d had such a smashing time the night before and was just a bit worn out.
Instead, I settled for touring around the town on foot and doing a bit of shopping. I found a shop and after trying on every single sweater they had, I settled for a gorgeous charcoal number with exquisite detail on the shoulders and down the back. Ok, that’s not really relevant to this story, but I LOVE my new sweater :_)
I went to the checkout and chatted up the fellow ringing me through. He asked what my plans were for the rest of the day, you know…the usual small talk. I told him I wanted to do some site seeing, but didn’t want to jump back on the bike. I asked if there was such a thing as tour guides that I could hire to drive me around so I could take some photos. I said I was considering just hiring a taxi. “No! Don’t hire a taxi! C’mere I could take you around.”
Really? That would be fantastic! We agreed to meet outside the shop he worked in at 6:00 pm.
I showed up, camera in hand, and off we went. He seemed pretty cranky so I offered him a way out. If you’re too bagged out from work, this is no big deal. “No bodder at all,” he tells me.
He took me out to the Gap of Dunloe and he seemed to relax into the whole tour guide thing. It was nothing like the great craic I’d had the night before, but I actually had a really nice time as a passenger for a while.
On the way back down from the Gap of Dunloe I asked if he’d stop at a broken down stone dwelling so I could take some photos.
Was this a broken down house? A storage facility? It looked hundreds of years old, the light was glorious for photography, and I was really enjoying clicking away. My tour guide told me to climb up into one of the windows and he’d take my picture. Um yah, not interested in breaking a foot on the way down and thwarting my adventures. I took a pass on that one!
There was another building across the road so I took some pics of that too. No idea what it was, but at some point someone added a tin roof, which had since fallen to complete disrepair. I strategically avoided the garbage strewn about inside for these photos:
We continued down the road and he showed me where he likes to go swimming; Lough Leanne (I think?). I was losing the light, but took some pics anyway.
Our last stop was Torc Falls. What a beautiful spot! It wasn’t even tainted by his discussion about how pathetic I was while shopping for a sweater. He told me all about the stupid customers he typically has and in the back of my mind I was going over my own shopping experience wondering if I’d been one of those! Quite a…..character ><
Although I DID miss out on what would have been a beautiful ride around the Ring of Kerry, it was really nice to have a chance to be a passenger on my own adventure for a couple of hours!
What an eventful day yesterday! I’ll share a few pictures at some point, but I need to tell you about my night last night first.
After a great deal of stress, I finally managed to make it to Pax House in Dingle. What a place! The view is absolutely amazing. John, the owner, is a lovely and caring man and the staff are just beautiful people. Because my day had been very stressful (stay tuned for that story), John offered to drive me back into town so I didn’t have to walk. It’s only 15 minutes, but I was beat.
I ate dinner at “Out of the Blue”, a lovely place where the menu is on a chalkboard and set on a chair in front of you. It was cute and I had an incredible delicious fresh seafood meal. Do yourself a favour and make a reservation for Out of the Blue when in Dingle.
After eating I set out to find some craic* (sounds like crack, so the first time someone asked me if I was out for some, I nearly shite myself.). Come ‘ere, I had the craic back in Kilarney and figured Dingle would be hard pressed to beat it, but she came close!
I walked in to Dick Mack’s; just a tiny little hole in the wall with a snug in the front. If you’re like me and the term is new, a snug is an EXTREMELY small room/space wherein the ladies patiently waited for their lads to finish their pints. Naturally this is from years back when ladies were not permitted in the bar; thankfully before MY time!
Pint in hand, I hear a ruckus toward the back. Being the “knowers of all” that they are, I turn to the bartender, “I hear a ruckus”.
“Yes. That is a ruckus I suppose.”
“I like a ruckus.” He grins, jabs his thumb toward the back and tells me to have a look.
I strolled through a small door and was surprised to see another smallish room with just one table full of people. Full of boy people. Making a ruckus. Now I don’t profess to know all things in life, but anytime I’ve seen a room full of boys only, they’re usually up to no good…or on a stag party. They cheered a hello and invited me to join them. The guy to my left said, “What are two interesting things about yourself?”
“Interesting thing number 1” I say over the din, “I’m riding around Ireland…” I don’t even have a chance to finish my sentence because the laughter was thunderous! I couldn’t even hear my own chuckle as I joined them. When things settled down I asked what the hell was so funny about riding around Ireland?
AGAIN with the deafening laughter. Apparently, in Ireland, riding is having sex. Well then I was really laughing! One of their crew had just returned from a year in Australia so when I said interesting thing number 2 was riding around Ireland to find roots, the crowd roared again. In Australia, looking for a root is looking for someone to have sex with.
Needless to say, they were happy to have the likes of me join their crew.
They all left shortly thereafter and I wandered back through the front to finish my pint. I joined an elderly couple from Germany and asked about their trip. They’d come from the direction I am headed and it sounds like there is much for me to look forward to on my next leg!
I left and moved on down the road stopping at different places along the way.I sat up at the bar in Foxy John’s and chatted with Gareth for a bit. I shared my map of pubs with him and heard about his travels. I came across Gareth again a few stops later and joined him and his new friends “Pat and Pat’s Daughter from the States”.
We were at the Yellow Pub where step dancers swung, stomped and whirled through a crazy, high-speed dance while musicians kept time with accordions and a guitar. Amazing! Eventually getting too crowded for my comfort, I set off again.
A speaker set outside the next pub cut through the night with a fella singing “Don’t Look Back in Anger”. I love Oasis so I skipped across the street and, in true Deanna fashion, crashed through the door (I never know how heavy those suckers are going to be!). The singer stopped. He just stopped. The entire establishment stopped. They just stopped.
“Hey!” I say to the ENTIRE BAR NOW LOOKING AT ME EXPECTANTLY!
The musician asks where I’m from and when I say Canada, there is still that feeling of something further is expected. So I wave and say hello and they all laugh. He asks me a few more questions as I move toward the bar, I keep answering and people keep laughing. He asks where all my friends are, “Right here!” I say and open my arms to the room. They all bust a gut. I was on fire! By the time I reach the centre of the room they’re all still looking at me, but no one is speaking. Or singing. So I say, “Well, now that I have the floor, have you heard the one about the guy from Limerick?”
The room erupts and he resumes playing. Good thing, too because I had no punchline for that one! I finally got myself a drink and held up the wall next to Samantha and Paul. Great people; Sam is gorgeous, energetic, enthusiastic and so much fun to hang out with! Paul is a quiet guy who clearly adores Sam. I really enjoyed chatting with them both!!
From there I went back to Foxy Johns, retracing my steps back home. Foxy John’s is a hardware store by day, and a bar at night. I didn’t realize this when I was there earlier, but what a blast it turned out to be! I made sure to take a picture vowing to return in the morning for the hardware store shot too!
If you ever find yourself in Dingle, be sure to check out the nightlife – some of the best craic I’ve ever had!
*craic is the Irish word for fun, by the way. Seriously nearly shite my pants when I walked in to a bar early in my travels and had the door man ask if I was there for some good craic.
The Happy Canuck 