Farwell to the Isle of the Little People and Fairy Folk

The Ride to Dublin

Kathleen takes us to Bantry, a small village further up the Coast where we will catch the Cork bus. The day is windy, cold and drizzling rain. The bus starts the drive at this village so leaves on time and a full passenger load. The trip only takes two hours and we then have to wait a short time at the bus depot before we meet the express bus to Dublin, back where we started 4 weeks ago.

Our last few days in Dublin will be spent with Eileen and Tom and Syd, a very friendly house dog. Comfortable after many nights in Hotels and B & Bs. 

The sights of Dublin and Powers Court Estate

The day is mild and light rain showers but I do not care as we are not walking today. We are going to be tourists today and the first stop is Dunlaoghaire the Dublin Port. Dark clouds are forming so we do not stay long. A lovely spot to wander along the pier and beach front.

We then head towards Killarney Hill, a decent climb of 153 metres and great views over Dublin, Bray Head, Wicklow Mountains and the Irish Sea. The park is crossed by various walking tracks, and with its spectacular views in all directions, is a popular destination for walkers and hikers from the surrounding areas.The day is starting to warm up so we drive down to the popular coastal village of Greystones in County Wicklow. We settle for a coffee at the “Happy Pear”, a small coffee shop which originally started as a fruit shop. This is a very trendy area.

Next stop is at Powers Court Estate located in Enniskerry. It is a large country estate noted for its house and landscaped gardens, today occupying 19 hectares (47 acres). The house, originally a 13th-century castle, was extensively altered during the 18th century but a fire in 1974 left the house lying as a shell until it was renovated in 1996. The estate shows a sublime blend of formal and walled gardens, sweeping terraces, statues and ornamental lakes, secret hollows and rambling walks, pet cemeteries and Japanese gardens, the Pepperpot Tower and Dolphin Pond.

The day has turned quite warm; we head towards the magnificent garden full of roses every colour of the rainbow. So many different colours, shapes and sizes and varieties. All we can do is sit and marvel. The landscaping and design of the terraced Italian Gardens linking the house to the lake with the life sized Winged Horses watching over the lake. Why do our gardens look so bland?

One of the most interesting parts of Powerscourt Gardens is the pet’s cemetery which is the resting place of the much-loved pets of the estate families. It’s situated in a quiet part of the gardens where the striking colours of Azaleas, Rhododendrons and Roses bloom. The cemetery is believed to be the largest pets’ cemetery in any private Irish garden.

The Powerscourt horses – Boncho, Giddy and Glencree could be seen grazing along the road in the field below Triton Lake. Small ducklings playing near the water’s edge under the watchful eye of the mother duck. The Dolphin Pond with its central fountain of dolphins spouting water is another not to be missed attraction.

After walking through Tower Valley our next stop is the Japanese Garden. We reach Lord Londonderry’s stone seat, perched high above the Japanese Garden laid out over 100 years ago. Stone lanterns guide us through the winding paths of the garden, bringing us to its innermost circle where we find a Pagoda and a trickling stream under Japanese stone bridges. The upper circle provides stunning views of the Japanese Garden and the Sugar Loaf Mountain in the distance.

Hunger pains have started so a visit to the Avoca Terrace Café offering an amazing setting for us all to relax and enjoy a cup of coffee and cake. The café boasts tall windows and French doors leading out onto an expansive garden terrace with a simply breath-talking panorama of the gardens against the backdrop of Sugarloaf Mountain. The food at the Terrace Café is homemade and of excellent quality. A lovely way to end a lovely day and a lovely stay in Ireland. Powers Court Estate is the home and workplace of my husband’s family in the 1850’s before they migrated to Australia.

As the day closes we make our way back to Dublin in the afternoon peak hour traffic, another lovely home cooked meal and an early night. Tomorrow we must repack as we leave Ireland. 

We spend the day catching up with diaries and photos, packed and repacked; nothing goes back in the same spot so some must be relegated to the bin. I am sure the weight of my case will be borderline so will wear my boots on the plane, easy to get off when we reach Australian customs. An early meal and Tom drives us across to the Dublin International Airport. We are quickly checked in and through the gates and now we can spend some of the euros we have not spent. Time to sit, reflect and wait for our Emirates flight to Dubai.

Where has the last 5 weeks gone, in a few days we will be back at work and the same old routine. Time to think about where we will next walk - the bug has attached itself firmly.

We have walked 547klms through Ireland for the boys, we have returned to Ireland for Mum, we have made friendships to last a lifetime and we have raised $11300 for Cancer Queensland Research. Not a bad effort if I may say so.

We have walked Ireland for the craic.

Done and dusted - 547klms

After a very late night or perhaps an early morning we are awake and ready to go again. The morning is misty but I feel this will change. Our feet seem to think we need to walk again but we have some photo sessions and appointments this morning. Kathleen takes us to the Castletownbere Library which is part of the Cork Council Library, past the cement stairway with pots of colourful flowers placed on each step, the market stalls of high vis gear on display in the centre of the town, colourful businesses with familiar names on the fronts, past the world famous MacCarthys Bar. The library is small but stocked full of books. A photo of the walkers is taken for the next newsletter edition.

We continue the last 5klms to Dunboy Castle ruins but in a car and not on foot. This was the original stronghold of the O’Sullivan family, sitting on an outcrop of Beara Peninsula. Paddy is there waiting for us. He gives us a very informative and comprehensive tour of the ruins. A large coloured metal cutout of Donal Cam O’Sullivan Beare stands erect in the grounds watching over his castle. Paddy is very passionate about the building and preserving it. Fachtna and Michael Ed also join us. We placed our tired booted feet on the plaque standing against the walk, a symbolic show that we had walked the Beara Breifne Way or O’Sullivan March. Something not often completed.

In the rocky edge of the waters near the castle is the O’Sullivan shield, someone has gone to a lot of trouble to scratch it into the rock face. Heaps of slimy seaweed and the remains of a boat lie in the shallow waters. The O’Sullivan flag flaps in the breeze.

Dunboy Castle is set in 39 acres of land near the village of Castletownbere on Beara Peninsula and the shores of the Atlantic Ocean, 12 miles from Kenmare in the south west of Ireland. The castle and Estate was the stronghold of the O’Sullivan Bere clan and built to guard the harbor of Berehaven. This is where they controlled the fishing fleets off the Irish coast and became rich through the collection of taxes for the rights of passage.

The siege of Dunboy in 1602 between Donal Cam O’Sullivan, the O’Sullivan Clan Prince and Elizabeth 1 of England was the most important part of the history of the castle. The Queen’s command was headed by Sir George Carew and along with 5000 soldiers he was sent to suppress the clan. Dunboy Castle was considered impregnable and was only defended by 143 men, it took two weeks, but it was almost destroyed by artillery fire and after hand to hand fighting the remaining 58 survivors were executed in the town square.

The entire site lay in ruins until 1730 when the Puxley family were granted the Dunboy Estate along with other land belonging to the O’Sullivans, they then set about building a mansion close to the Puxley Castle keep and Dunboy Castle was left in ruins.

The construction safety fences surrounding the Puxley Manor site are rusted from being left idle, it is now overrun with vegetation.

At the start of the estate are some large ivy covered stone entrance gates, a symbol of bygone days and now sitting in disrepair. We head to town with Michael and his friend Colm, an elderly man who lives on the estate grounds and who has a great knowledge of its history.

We all have lunch and coffee; probably the last time I will see Michael Ed O’Sullivan. Such a character.

Sue and I head out on our own for a walk around this friendly and colourful fishing village, down to the water’s edge past some bright pink doors and front gates, boat ruins lying in the sludge left from the outgoing tide, the lifeboat station with its orange lifeboat moored in the Harbour and up to the grey stoned Catholic Church sitting majestically at the top of many stairs in the centre of town. Its bell perched in the tower at the rear of the grounds. The magnificent white stone high altar and several colourful glass stained windows adorn the beautiful church. We light our final candles for the boys. Here we meet with Kathleen who is trimming the altar flowers ready for the Sunday Mass. We wander back home, the sign “Thank you for Visiting” tied between the buildings flaps in the wind. Back home to pack for tomorrow and clean our boots as they will not be required until we fly out of Dublin.

Later in the afternoon we drive out of the town to a Buddhist retreat, Dzogchen Beara the largest Tibetan Buddhist retreat in Ireland. Several large red, blue, yellow and white flags flapping at the front entrance. The day is turning cool and clouds forming. The peaceful white retreat sits high on the wild and beautiful Beara Peninsula overlooking the Atlantic Ocean with outstanding views across the waters and sky. The Centre houses a Spiritual Care Centre, café, offers retreats and provides self-catering and hostel accommodation or secluded cottages perched high on the cliff tops for anyone wishing relaxation and stunning views or to just meander the coastal meadows. Meditation retreats mean “No talking, Wi-Fi, books, or phones."  The gardens are full of a variety of colourful flowers and bushes and the paths meander along the cliff top and past the new Temple being built in the style of a Tibetan Monastery and to be officially opened in 2017.

Our last night in this beautiful village and a meal of Fish and Chips and a glass of wine at Cronin’s Hideaway compliments of the owner and local photographer, Anne Marie and her husband. As we relax with lovely company we are joined by Ken, the Pathway Porter. He has driven a distance from another county to give us two bottles of champagne, a congratulations gesture on finishing the walk. This kindness we were not expecting so feel very special. A final Guinness at Twomey’s Bar and say our farewell to Johnnie as we will be leaving early tomorrow morning. Friends we will never forget.  I will be sad to leave.

Up, up and up some more.....

Adrigole to Castletownbere

We wake early, excited as this is the final day and what we have trained for over the past 15 months and walked for over the past 4 weeks. The day shines bright and the fog has lifted so a spectacular view over the water and green fields. Some small stone houses perched on the edges of the inlet. We try to sneak about but being an older house this is hard as the boards creak. We are told “you are early down for breakfast, you are always early”. We are ready to go shortly after breakfast; a packed lunch is handed to us with a request for €7 for it. We are a little flabbergasted as we had said not to worry about lunch as we still had some small bars in our bags but Margaret insisted. I think the surprised look on our faces must have said it all as she then told us to put part of the fee towards a Cancer donation.  Her husband insists on driving us to the drop off point, Peg’s Shop, where we are to meet the other walkers who will escort and guide us over the mountain of Hungry Hill, the highest peak in the Caha Mountains. The coastal road to Castletownbere is 14klms; our route will be much longer.

The walkers are local people – Paddy and Jean and Fachtna. Paddy is an experienced walker and Fachtna is a retired police sergeant. It appears there are two walking tracks, one which takes you the low side of the hill and the one which we will be taking over the top. I think we are in for a long, hot and very exhausting day; I really have no idea of the day’s plan. Kath takes the “dead dog’s bag” from the inside of our back packs thus lightening the load considerably and we head off. Men being men, they walk fast and take long strides leaving us women behind. Paddy stops, giving us time to catch up and get our breath, he points out the lonely standing stone sitting obscurely in the farmers field with the high rocks engulfing the fields, other objects and places of interest. Waterfalls trickle down the side of the mountain, a result of the rain overnight. The first field stile and up we climb, over rocks and gaps in the land for which we require a helping hand. The view down the hill is fantastic and we continue to follow the little yellow man, the same yellow man that got us into trouble 25 days ago near Leitrim. Shorn sheep and lambs on their knees, too large but still sucking off their mothers. The morning fog is clearing and the day is starting to warm up. Several bog patches to cross as we stop to check the view of the waters and the not too popular oyster and mussel farm that has grown in the Bay. Paddy is a fast walker and a hill climber, something which Sue and I are definitely not. We never trained for hills. The walkers are fresh and we are not so the climb is starting to take its toll. Up and over another hill.  “Just a few more” is a call that we hear several times during today’s walk. Sue and I have decided that our ancestry is definitely O’Sullivan but definitely NOT Mountain Goat. We trudge up 300mt of Hungry Hill and much of it was vertical and on rock. Up, up and up we go.

We are now walking the Beara Way, a stone path with the handmade rock fences, rising rocks on our right and the waters of the Bay below on our left. Up we continue, another rock, another hill to cross. The little lighthouse seated on one of the several small islands in the Bay can be seen, the coast road is a distance below us. Our path veers away and up we climb again, I would have preferred to stay on the track but we follow the yellow man and the markers. Our walking poles are with the Pathway Porter and today we could have used them but we have not used them for the complete walk. The mossy sections on the large chunks of flat rock are avoided so we do not slip and fall, we cross several small waterfalls and gullies that have been scoured out by the rains. There are some grey stoned houses down in the valley with their backs to the hugh rock cliffs.

We start to drop down to a dam covered in small satin white waterlilies and green brown reeds, continue through the bog but we still must climb. Across the blue bridge joining the two small rocky ravines and we stop for lunch. Our boots are wet and we still have a way to go.  We are now walking on the spongy sphagnum moss, common in the bogs of Ireland. Direction arrows are drawn on the rocks showing we can walk either way; the sun is high in the blue sky. The blue and white stained sheep look out over the bay as they protect the Number 56 walking man post. Up another hill.

I feel we are being tested – to see if these Australian girls are as good as they say. We will prove we are good.

We cross another fast-flowing stream and take a precipitous path hanging onto the side of the water, we are careful not to slip. Past Princess Beara’s grave marker we follow the sheep trails for a while but again we leave the walk and start to climb again. I feel this will be the last time we climb – at least I hope it will be. We are exhausted and it is taking every ounce of energy we have stored. We have walked all day; it has been one of the hardest walking days in the last four weeks but one of the most fulfilling. We have nearly finished what we started and have dreamed and discussed for such a long time. Beautiful and peaceful landscape.

We start the walk down on the small broken rocks with views of Castletownbere ahead of us. From behind some large rocks appear several people with cameras poised and the calls of “Congratulations!  Fair play to you”. We know none of these people but over the next few days they will become close friends. The hospitality and friendship throughout Ireland has been remarkable.

Further down the walk we are met by Kathleen and more locals.

The sheep at the bottom of the track are penned and ready to be shorn. We stop for a breather, a look and a chat. Down we continue to a small lane covered with overhanging trees keeping the heat out and leading into the coastal village. We are now walking in single file until we reach Aghakista Bridge over the Kista Stream and which was the original route from Glengarriff to Castletown Berehaven.  Close to the stream is the 19^th century Tuck Mill known locally as Florrey Kellys Mill. Tuck Mills were used to shrink woolen cloth by churning it in vats.

The tide is out but still the long necked white swans can be seen swimming in the remaining waters. The ruined boat remains poke above the water looking like a row of savage teeth and the bright coloured houses and shops along the main street welcome us to our final steps at the Twomey Bar. Outside there are a crowd of people and a smiling face I know. That face is the man who suggested this walk two years earlier. It is lovely to see the O’Sullivan Chieftain, Michael Ed. The townspeople have put up a welcome sign above the front door – O’Sullivan Bere Walk - Brisbane to Breffnie to Beara Welcome Jennifer and Susan. These smiling faces and this friendly sign have made the last four weeks of sheer exhaustion worthwhile. Today we have walked or should I correct myself and say climbed 26.7klms.

More photos and we all raise a glass or in my case a pint of Guinness – I made it Seán O Riáin. All we hope now is that our luggage has arrived and again I guessed wrong.

We need some clean clothes as the town people have organised a night of fun and music at the bar. This will be our first night’s entertainment since leaving Australia and some time to relax and mingle with the locals. A quick call to the Pathway Porter and a very surprised reply as he thought our arrival date was tomorrow so I leave it in his capable hands to remedy the situation.  The luggage finally arrives some hours later and after 9pm we head to the bar – it is finished and we have become the first Australians and first women to have walked the Beara Way in reverse from Leitrim to Castletownbere, quite an achievement and a feather in our hat. Fachtna, the president of the Beare Historical Society presents us with several locally produced books and we relax and listen to the Irish music which I dearly love We meet one of the older town residents, Father Sean O’Shea – a real character but that is another story, so many locals and tourists who are there for the music and fun. So different to a night at the pub in Australia. 

Walking the Beara

Glengarriff to Adrigole

It has rained most of the night but the early morning dawns clear but overcast as we head off to the water edge of the Blue Pool for a look, no seals sitting on the rocks. I would have been terribly excited if there had been seals.  The Blue Pool is an ocean inlet, the area where some walking trails commence and finish, swimming for the children and the Garinish ferry departs. The blue waters weave in and out of the islands with massive mossy rocks. Some small boats are moored at the edge and there are stone stairs up the hill. We wander back to the hotel past the Glenarian Irish Market, see the mosaics on the walls near the Post Office and several brightly coloured shop fronts, which are all still closed.

As we start the days walk the fog is low so guess we will be wet before the day is over. Over the bridge where the mother duck ushers her speckled ducklings to the safety of the bushes on the side and we walk single file along the yellow side line with the massive rocks up the side of the hill and the bay on the other side. The main road winds making us constantly change side for our safety; this is going to be a long few kilometers until we reach the trail into the hills. Past the Glengarriff Camping and Caravan area and Magannagan farm, we stop for a chat with a dissatisfied O’Sullivan man about the walking track. The variety of red flowers growing along the track are stunning.  The next few kilometers are very exhausting until a gentleman stops to check we are OK and offers us a lift to the section where we turn onto a lane at Lackavane after the old-school building, only a few klms and our personal safety. We now head off the coast road and up a cycle path and into the hills. The soft showers of rain are approaching but are they just passing or here to stay? We decide to take a chance that they are passing – wrong again. From here we walk up and up and down and up some more. A very quiet road and only pass a couple of cars.

We are now heading into the rocky hills with the fog approaching low and quickly so after some photos, as we are both in the school shirts, we decide it is a good idea to at least put on the jackets, even though it is only a passing shower. Wrong again. The black faced sheep with red shorn markings on their backs watch us from the steep stoney green fields. The hills are steep and covered in massive clumps of grey rocks and shale outcrops. Tall grass grows in bog areas alongside the path. We pass Sugarloaf Mountain (over 500mt high) and the views through the showers of rain are stunning.

A short stop at the Leitrim Beg, a stark standing stone perched on a rise in the field overlooking Bantry Bay. We watch closely for any cattle or a stray bull and make our way through the thistles and muddy hoof holes. The views are worth the trudge through the mud. The field stile is in need of some immediate repairs, we must juggle the broken boards and brambles as we cross. We meander past the Leitrim Beg Farmhouse advertising its Eggs and Produce for Sale and the Ballynahowen, Wedge grave and church remains, the Oceanview B & B signs start to appear. They say 1.5klms, we decide it is time to change again as the rain has arrived and heavy and blowing horizontally. This is Ireland – a complete weather change in a span of a few hours. The 1.5klms turns out to be closer to 3klms. It is now bucketing down and we are hoping the next corner shows the accommodation. We have arrived much earlier than we had planned so throw the owner, Margaret, into a small panic as she is not ready for us. There is not much that we can do about the situation except sit in front of a raging fire and try and dry out. We are soaked to the skin. The accommodation is a family run farmhouse. The rooms are large and a little old fashioned, shared bathroom but clean and warm and at present this is all that we ask for. Tomorrow is our last walking day so the end is in sight. The views from the bedroom window take us across the cattle and fields and out to the blue water, so peaceful and tranquil.

Where do we eat tonight as we are too far out of Adrigole to walk and it is raining very heavily?  When I booked this B & B I had also organised a home cooked meal but due to some family problems this will not happen. She has organised with Kathleen from Castletownbere to drive across and collect us and we will have a meal with her and her husband, Johnnie, whom we met in Gougane Barra a few nights ago, we will do as we are told.

The rain has stopped and the stars are out, such a change from a couple of hours back. It is lovely to sit and do nothing and have someone else do our thinking for us. They are such a lovely couple and of course an O’Sullivan family. After a meal we meet up with her cousin and drive out to the town cemetery to place some pink and blue hydrangeas on the grave of the parents of a lady, Cath, from Ipswich. Cath is a cousin of Kathleen and has been my friend for many years. Such a small world. I am amazed at the overgrown state of the cemetery; some headstones cannot be seen for the height of the weeds, very sad. We then head back to our accommodation and Margaret and her husband, Connie are ready for a chat. All I want to do is go to bed as we have a long walk ahead of us tomorrow.

In the lounge/sitting room positioned above the fire is a very strange wall clock. At 2 o’clock in the afternoon it chimed ten times and at 4 o’clock it only chimed once. Not sure what the “go” is?  It appears tomorrow’s walk has been organised for us and we will only require a light backpack and some lunch, not sure what the plan is so guess we wait and see.

The family farm accommodation, “Ocean View B & B” is owned by Margaret and Connie. It is handy to the Beara Breifne Walk but a long distance from Adrigole which is only an area and not a village or town. There are other B&B’s in the area and most cater for walkers so will accommodate you with pickups and drop offs if requested. A meal could be organised in advance when a booking is made. The charge for a twin room with a shared bathroom is €30 each. Room had a single and a double bed. No ensuite but a shared bathroom. It was a large bedroom and views across to Bantry Bay.

Breakfast is provided as are packed lunches but with a fee of about €5.

Peggy’s Corner appears to be the main pick up spot for walkers and is a small grocery store on the side of the road.  There are no other businesses or convenience stores in the Adrigole area.

Today we have walked 16.8klms, a short but wet walk.

Thankyou Saint Patrick......

Gourgane Barra to Glengariffe

Another interesting day.

The morning is overcast and cool, the lake is casting shadows across its still waters, when we go down for breakfast, and the room is light and airy with breakfast set out on lace tablecloths and unusual menus.

We are to meet with Dickie O’Sullivan, our driver to the Castle but as he arrives and bundles us into his car he spots a friend in the hotel breakfast room so leaves us sitting in the car for 30 minutes while he catches up. He does not realise that we have a long walk today after he shows us through the castle.  His car is interesting and badly in need of some maintenance, all he wants to do is talk as we are driving, all I want him to do is watch the road and concentrate. He wears no seatbelt and the car petrol light is on, I know the drive will be short as I have driven it before. I have seen Carriganass Castle a couple of times but thought Sue would like to be part of a tour as this is a family Castle.

The Castle is situated at a crossroad and on the banks of the Ouvane River on a rocky outcrop and is nothing but a shell of its original days but very important in family history. The history of the Castle records the fortunes of the O’Sullivan Beare Chieftains from the Desmond Rebellion to the Flight of the Earls in 1603. The Castle was built around 1540 and was located at the Eastern end of the Sullivan Beare Territory with Dunboy Castle being the main castle. Dunboy is situated close to Castletownbere at the end of our walk.  Folk memory says” That the cut stone for the castle was brought from a quarry called Poc an Tairbh (The Bull’s Pocket) by way of a human chain of workers”.  In 1880 a considerable amount of the corner stone was removed from the derelict tower to refurbish Bantry House. Dick has been a great host and tour guide, showed us a very good DVD and answered all our questions. Sue’s question – “What do they make the Castle mortar from? Cowhair, cowhide and cowshit”. We decide that it obviously works. After a cuppa and a rendition on his piano accordion we start back walking at 11.30. I feel he wants company and would have loved us to stay a little longer but we have a long walk ahead before we reach Glengarriffe. We would have liked to visit the Kealkill Standing Stones and Village but time does not permit this to happen. The day is warming up and we must cross into the foothills of the Cahar Mountains.

We take some last photos of the castle, its river and guide and we head off past the picnic area and across the Ouvane River listening to its faint gurgle, take the fork in the narrow road and up some very sharp bends, watching out for local traffic. Onto a dirt track with thistles in the side fields and the purple and blue colour of the hydrangeas in the farm house gardens and pots as we follow the markers to the crest of the steep hill, past the ruined house and we reach Poc an Taibh, the Bull’s Pocket. The sign is nearly covered with ferns and the yellow field stiles start to appear as we head up to the forest plantation and fire break. We can see Bantry Bay and Sugarloaf in the distance; we will probably be climbing these mountains on the last day. The ferns are becoming thicker and signs are nearly nonexistent, no snakes but rabbit holes so we must be extremely careful that we do not break or twist our ankles. The green bracken fern is reaching our waists – are we on the correct track or are we lost, our map says we are a “little off track” so back track a way and start again. We are so glad that St Patrick had walked this track before us and rid it of snakes.

The yellow arrows start to appear on the rocks, are they the real thing or someone’s idea of a practical joke but we must take them at face value and follow them. The day is getting warmer with some clouds in the sky; we do not need rain when walking on the mountain. We have some black faced sheep for company but they move quickly away when they see up approaching. We are finally out of the ferns and now see the signs taking us down the uneven and grassy track through the bog to our ankles and overgrown tracks with brambles reaching across in front of us catching our clothes as we push through, this is a track that has not been walked upon for some time. They are badly in need of some maintenance. The track is covered in Spagnum Moss and the Common Butter Worth plant found in the bog and high areas. The golden yellow Bog Asphodel swaying in the breeze.
We drop down out of the forest and bogs onto a graveled road, such a contrast to the last couple of hours but still a distance to go but time for a break and off with the shoes. The crossroads at St Joseph’s Coomhola Church loom and we take a small detour to have a look at the school and church perched on the hill with its large white statue perched even higher on the hill. We pass the Priest’s Leap area and the sea mist coast comes into view. The drizzly rain is coming across the rocky fields towards us so I hope it holds until we reach the town.

We are now walking along the very busy Coastal road down towards the junction to the Beara Peninsula, Glengarriff signs start to appear. We walk in single file on the yellow line as we pass Garinish Island situated in the sheltered Glengarriff Harbour in Bantry Bay. We are now walking on the Beara Peninsula.  We pass the large and strange pink Eccles Hotel with its attics and chimneys on the top and we both wish we had booked a room here. Past the large O’Sullivan memorial rock, the pink Garda house and the colourful shops are in view. It is a winding village at the crossroads to several areas and islands, a natural deep Harbour of Bantry Bay; it is high season and full of tourists. We are staying at Casey’s Hotel in the centre of town, I have stayed there before so familiar with the establishment. The room is large and airy and overlooks the main road. Even though it is a hotel we are booked in as a B & B room and €55 per person for a twin room. It is advisable to book ahead.

Beside the hotel is a Quills Tourist Shop, an old house covered in Ivy which houses a large array of tourist items, this is our last chance to buy any presents but we still have a couple of days to carry back packs so must be mindful of what we purchase and the size.  There are some lovely little shops in the street with locally made jewelry which take our eye. For such a small village there are a large number of businesses crammed into the small area. The local church sits perched at the corner of the crossroads and is surrounded by graves and a large number are O’Sullivan and other family names. The rain has come across the hills and settled on the village so time to head home and a nice warm bed.

Today we walked 31.5klms.

Another interesting day walking

Ballevourney to Gourgane Bara

The night watchman has organised some breakfast for us, the news has predicted a very hot day. A hot day by Australian standards is not the same as by Irish standards – or so I think. A weather warning has been sent to Irish mobile phones. The morning is cool to start as we head over the small stone bridge over the Sullane River and we meander along keeping to the verge of the road and the yellow lines, single file as the traffic is quite busy for this time of the morning.

The crossroads loom and we turn and a hill ahead, the first of several serious hills for the day, the bitumen road narrows into a lane with several potholes. The most astounding lace cobwebs are everywhere on the bushes that run alongside the track. They are truly   magnificent.  Only one small spider to be seen and it scurries away when we come closer to look. The webs appear to be only covering one type of thorny bush. What has made these large webs, surely it cannot be the job of the little spider that we sighted?  Is it a Cross Spider? The fields are green, tangled and wild, a place of nettles, cow parsley, a smell of grass, mulched leaves and moisture. We continue to walk as the day starts to get hotter so we must be careful with our water supply. Not a breath of air but still only about 22 degrees.
The fragrance of the variety of wild flowers, bushes and yellow buttercups close to the track, the  hills and pine forests in the distance and all against the backdrop of the cloudless, turquoise sky. The rows of cut hay attract the black crows and other birds picking at it before it is baled. Another crossroad and another hill, the road becomes narrower and overgrown with weeds. The overhanging trees with their overhanging branches stroke our cheeks as we take advantage of some shade and a rest. The hills keep coming – up to 390 metres in height. So exhausting in the heat. It is interesting to see how the vegetation and land changes as the altitude increases.
 There is not much shade as we head over the Pass of Keimaneigh.

The Pass of Keimaneigh is a precipitous ravine, created by who knows what natural process between the peaks of Foilstookeen and Doughill in the Caha Mountains on the route between Macroom and Bantry.  This place of ever changing beauty marks the western extreme of our parish of Uibh Laoire. 

Less than two hundred years ago the only way through the pass would have been an almost impossible route amongst huge boulders, screes and dense vegetation.  The only usable route across the ridge was high above the cliffs on the south side, and this was little more than a meandering sheep track through very rough country. 

The red Fuchsia is in abundance as the track becomes narrow with a high side on one side, overlooking the green fields with their stone wall dividers. We know we are high as the Wind Farms are starting to appear on the adjoining mountain peaks, mountains which we will most definitely cross today. Spectacular scenery, delicate little Alpine flowers – Common Butter Worth, on the verge of the path and the flowering Heather up the sides of the hills, we are now walking on the Sli Gaeltacht Mhuscrai Way. Large chunks of rock are appearing in the fields and tufts of grass which is usually a sign of Bog all held securely behind the green barb wired fences. The hills continue as the heat rises and we trudge on – it is going to be a long day. The large art like slate boulders perched on the sides of the hills and down in the valleys, now start to appear in smaller quantity in the farmers’ fields, just lying there for the taking. The signs for O’Sullivan start to appear so great to see we are on the correct track as we have walked for several hours without seeing a person. A few pushbike riders are now struggling up the steep hills, walking looks much easier.

The Top of Coom signs appear, Ireland highest Pub and we are 12klms from our bed but the hills and heat are still with us. Not a cloud in the sky. The small 12^th Century Teampolin Eachros Church, close to Ballengeary was abandoned and in ruins by 1602 when O’Sullivan passed through the area. We decide to rest on the side of the road close to the ruins but not walk the distance to the ruins. We need to conserve our energy. As we rest a man and his son pull up and within several minutes we know his life story. We cannot stay long as we are sitting in the sun, there is no shade.
O'Sullivan Beare is reputed to have camped near this, already derelict church on the first night of his epic march to Leitrim on 31st Dec. 1602. His stallion, Cearc, broke a leg here and is remembered in the name of a pool in the Bunsheelin River nearby, Pol na Cearc.
Adjacent to the road to the east is a bullaun stone, locally called 'The Font', and a little north of this a holy-well.
It is past midday and getting hotter, the air is so heavy, and our water is getting low but we try not to panic, we now sip the drinks. Up another hill and the farm houses start to appear, the sides of the track are covered in shades of yellow and purple, wild and standing quiet. The pink and white bell petals of the Lesser Knotweed cover the hedges which shadow the fronts of the farmhouses and we look down on the stone piled high forming the fences to separate the fields of sheep.

We gradually wind down into a valley surrounded by large stone boulders and green fields and a few small startling blue clear lakes appear.  We can now see the big lake that surrounds the chapel and hotel at Gougane Barra. We are nearly there so decide to drink the last of our water. The temperature has now reached a stifling 26 degrees, humid and still, our hottest walking day yet. I feel there is a storm on the way.

The views from the last hill are breathtaking, the still blue waters, the small chapel tucked away on the holy island, sheep dotted around the lake and the white hotel with the small cemetery perched on the higher section. The manicured area around the lake is a result of the sheep from the farms which back onto the lake. The weeds and bog flowers grow wild on the sides of the lake while the pine trees rise high above the lake.

Gougane Barra is a place of retreat, with its origins with St Finbarr when he built a Monastery on the island in the lake during the 6^th Century. During the times of Penal Law the remoteness of the small settlement meant that the Roman Catholic Mass could be celebrated in peace. The small chapel is a popular chapel for weddings.

The hotel car park and café are full to overflowing with some tourist buses also parked there waiting for their passengers. All I want is a very cold drink of water followed by an even colder drink of Guinness and in that order we ask the barmaid for them. She can see we have had a very long hot and exhausting day so takes us under her wing, she happens to be the owner of the establishment, Mrs. Breda Lucy. We are soon booked in to a very comfortable room overlooking the café area. I feel we may acquire whatever we ask for during our stay. We have made a friend. The Cronin Family are the owners, past and present of the area. Our connection to the Cronin family: Fr Donogh O’Cronin was a tutor to Donal O'Sullivan but he was hanged in Cork in 1601.

A cold shower and we strip to shorts, something we have only done a couple of times and head out to have a look at the area. I have visited before but it is always a place that I will revisit. The cemetery has several interesting headstones, including a few O’Sullivan names and some Famine chunks of stone poking out of the ground. We soon work out the Family History of the owner, of which Mrs Lucy was very pleased when we mentioned it later in the day. She said “That no one has ever done that before”. 

A colourful version of the Lochness Monster overlooks the lake and hides in the bushes; he is definitely in the wrong country. We wander up to Fr O’Mahoneys tomb and then further to the little Chapel, St Finbarr’s Oratory and St Finbarr’s Monastic Cells perched on the side of the lake. The clouds are starting to form in the sky leaving a reflection across the lake, we light some candles for the boys as we admire the coloured stained windows and wait for the tourists to leave so we can have a wander on our own. The pathway leads to the cells with its ancient bell hanging precariously on the top of the stone fence and then meanders to the edge of the lake to enjoy the peace and serenity. There are eight small half circle cells with grass and stones on the floor, no doors and various types of moss growing on the inside walls and ceiling. A large wooden cross dominates the centre of the ancient monastery, so holy and peaceful.  

The clouds are forming so we wander back to the café for a quiet Irish whiskey, and we check on emails from home and catch up with diaries, some quiet time as we have booked a night meal. In the outside field at the back of the hotel is a large white marquee for the Opera by the Lake which will take place later in the evening. As we sit a lady appears before us grinning at us but I am sure I do not know her - how wrong could I be. I met Kathleen some two years ago and we are staying with her and Johnnie when we reach Castletownbere in a few days.  They are here for a meal and the Opera, such a lovely unexpected surprise, so much to tell them. They wondered whether they would see us as they were not sure how far along we would be. We shared the same table for a meal and left each other’s company, feeling a complete idiot for not recognizing Kathleen.

The rain has started and a storm through the night so cools the air down and the humidity disappears. Mrs Lucy organises us for the next day and a ride to the O’Sullivan Castle, Carriginass Castle where we meet our guide for a few hours and an O’Sullivan member. She gives us a donation for Cancer as do several people staying in the hotel and who have overheard what we are doing. Such gracious generosity. We retire for the night as we have had a very long and exhausting day.

The Gourgane Bara Hotel is the only accommodation near the lake, the closest bed to here is about 20klms away. The hotel is old fashioned but friendly and very airy and lovely staff. When I booked, I chose to include a three-course meal and we were charged €168 for the two of us. This hotel and the lake are worth a visit and a night stay. Today we walked 21.5klms.