MacsTravel Blog

We were in charming Dingle for two nights and certainly could have stayed longer. We stayed at the Dingle Skellig hotel, a sprawling modern spot built to accommodate bus tours just a few minutes walk from the heart of town. Great breakfasts, cow and sea views out the windows, laundry service. Ticked a lot of boxes.

Did I mention the laundry service? We didn’t use it. We’ve spent a small fortune on this trip but rather than spending 25 euros on the laundry service in Dingle I found myself in the bowels of the hotel by the vacated kids’ club using the free laundry service which consisted of a tiny European washing machine and a “dryer” that essentially took your clothes from “sodden” to “soaking”. I found myself behind Greg from Kentucky who had brought his whole family on this trip (7 adults), paid every expense from flights to tours to meals. Greg was ranting about being asked by his wife to separate the colours from the whites, rather than paying for the laundry service. I felt his pain.

Stuffed from our gas station provided picnic at Ross Castle, we decided to skip dinner and grab tickets to see a concert at St. James’ Church in town. It was a terrific decision.

The feature performers were Breanndán Ó Beaglaoich (vocals and button accordion) and his daughter Clíodhna Ní Bheaglaoich (fiddle and viola).

Jon Sanders (guitar) and series organizer Eoin Duignan (pipes and low whistle) opened the evening. This series has been going on for 20 years in Dingle, and it’s well worth checking out.

Once the concert finished we visited a few pubs: two for a drink and a few more to investigate some of the live music sessions that were underway. They are all very unique spots but Foxy John’s, which doubles as a hardware store during the day, really stood out. Unfortunately it was so packed that we weren’t able to find a spot to hang out.

It was an early start on day two as Robin and I joined the younger group going horse riding! We shuttled out to the farm, got kitted out in our great gazoo helmets and footwear, signed the required waivers and went out to the yard to meet our horses.

We were riding Irish work horses, solid and supposedly gentle creatures. J.P. who owned the farm and operated the business assigned us our mounts and I soon found myself on George, a giant horse who, I was assured, was calm as could be.

I should probably have paid more attention to this troubling sign posted on the stable wall.

After a brief lesson on riding and guiding a horse we lined up in the yard for a group photo before heading off.

George certainly seemed as advertised. A head taller than the other horses, he obediently followed our guide up the winding path through the fields to the top of the property. While it was very windy there was no rain and we were blessed with absolutely breathtaking views down into Dingle in one direction and out across the peninsula in the other. I was growing increasingly confident in my equestrian skills- perhaps I had missed my calling.

All went well until JP, who had scooted to the top of the on his quad bike, asked if Robin and I would like a photo together. When we said yes, he grabbed the reigns from me and started to guide George into position, asking me to get out my phone for him to use to take the picture.

I unzipped my windbreaker to access my phone which, I assume, led to some distractingly sudden and loud flapping sounds from my jacket as the wind caught it. The next thing I knew JP had two feet in the air with a death grip on the reigns as I desperately tried to stay atop George, who seemed equally desperate to eject me from the saddle. It was only chaotic for a short time, but certainly seemed longer! An ashen JP got George under control so that I could dismount (which I managed to do with some grace, to my, and certainly Robin’s, surprise).

Many JP apologies later I found myself on another horse (miraculously mounting it without the aid of the mini steps) and a chastened George found himself at the back of the pack led down the hill by one of the farm hands.

None of our fellow riders caught what happened on their phones but Connor did capture Robin’s predictable reaction once I was safely on the ground.

As we dismounted and shed our helmets and footwear we had to go and see JP about settling up. He looked at me, apologized again, and said ¨I feel terrible about charging ya.”

But he did.

Slea Head

We spent the middle part of the day on a wonderful drive along Slea Head, the tip of the Dingle Peninsula. It’s a very narrow road along the cliffs that is, incredibly, a two way road, although there is an unwritten agreement among buses and caravan owners to drive the route clockwise. That doesn’t stop you from running into terrified tourists in rental cars who didn’t know about the agreement, or into locals who could care less about the agreement. It does, however, dramatically limit the chances of two large vehicles meeting head on.

Fortunately it was an uneventful but spectacular drive. We would stop periodically for a short hike to a lookout, or a steep climb to a lookout in some cases. The coastline is beautiful and wonderfully free of giant homes due to the strict rules against new development on the coast.

For Star Wars nerds you can visit Dudmore Head where the second movie featuring the Skellig islands was filmed. Due to the damage to the Skilligs caused by the first film this area was used to recreate the Skellig landscape on shore to minimize the impact. All that’s left to remind fans is a small sign on a gate, which is as it should be I think.

We were welcomed back to Dingle by several hours of rain, so had a quiet afternoon before heading out for dinner to the Out of the Blue seafood restaurant.This spot had been on my radar for several months and I had booked us a table well in advance, so my anticipation and Robin’s apprehension had been building for some time. Out of the Blue has no set menu, only specials that change daily depending on what the local fishermen provide.

It was an absolutely fantastic restaurant. Robin had a pan fried halibut while I went with a lobster bisque starter followed by the John Dorry, all of it fresh from the Dingle dock, 50 metres away. The proximity to the statue of the beloved Dingle harbor dolphin Fungie (now mysteriously absent from said harbor) and the Dingle Aquarium gave us a slight pause, but the meal was delicious.

We wandered up to O’Sullivans Courthouse pub for a drink and some lovely music before returning to a much quieter Foxy John’s Pub and Hardware store.

Both were fantastic in their own way, which is really what all of the pubs in Dingle seem to have in common.