Celtic crusades – the wilder west

The further west we travelled, the happier we became. We had chosen to live in west Wales, we travelled westwards all round the world and now, like so many other visitors, we found the wonderful west of Ireland. You left us finally getting out of Blarney after mechanical nightmares and far too much work.

Killarney, being slap bang middle of prettiness, seemed the natural choice from which to explore the various Rings – long fingers of land poking out west in to the Atlantic. Of course this meant Killarney was very touristy, but in a good way. There are lots of things we loved about Ireland, and the individuality of each town was one. Not too many mass chains, none of the homogenisation where every town is a carbon copy of every other. Even modern shops had great, traditional wooden shop fronts. There were odd combinations of premises: a bar that was an ironmongers too, pubs that had undertakers in them … but not wall-to-wall Claire’s Accessories, WHSmith and Boots, to name some of the better (?) chains that yawn across every darned British high street. True, there were Tescos. Rowan LIKED this, especially self service (a bizarre invention designed to make your shopping experience twice as long, twice as frustrating, whilst removing the need for staff). There were Costa Coffees. Joe LIKED this. There is nothing he likes better than to intersperse sightseeing or lessons with a nice sit down over a latte.

Much sightseeing and many lessons ensued in the wilder west of Ireland. We drove the rings, we walked continuously, explored Ireland’s ancient and more modern history and sat with mouths agape looking out over loughs and mountains … preferably with a latte in hand. This was truly spectacular scenery. Luckily, by this point, we were “off season” and so able to enjoy sights like Lady’s View, Ross Castle, Torc Waterfall, the Ring of Kerry, the Dingle Peninsula and Glengariff without being affronted by too many coaches crammed with overly large and overly loud people, usually American, usually touting hats, or tourists driving very slowly. We are horrendous about other tourists … almost xenophobic towards them. Woe betide any old couples who dare to park near us. Or drive infront of us. They incur our silent wrath and looks that clearly say “do not approach. Hostile.” Now travellers … we love them. But not tourists.