Author Archives: tim

Dingle was just how we remembered it, except that they officially changed the name of the town back to the original Irish name: “An Daingean.” We had planned on taking the same bike ride we took five years ago, which was a highlight of that trip, but we had to wait since our first full day in Dingle was steady rain. It cleared up a little in the evening, which allowed us to take a hike recommended by Rick Steves* himself (in an Irish guidebook we took from Eileen’s parents). The hike took us out to an old tower of some sort and then to a lighthouse and some rocky cliffs. (pics below) Overlooking the water, we chanced upon the famous dolphin that frequents Dingle’s harbour (look at that! I spelled harbour the British way. My spellchecker is underlining it in red.). His name is Fungee (pronounced foon-gee, according to Rick Steves), and there are boat tours of the harbour which guarantee you see Fungee or you don’t pay. He is also immortalized with a bronze statue in the center of town. We were pretty proud of the fact that we got to see him for free, and on foot, no less.

At the lighthouse, I was fascinated by a particular pocket of water roiling against the cliffs below – an obvious death trap, which made it tempting to jump into. Is that strange of me? I wouldn’t say that I’m comfortable swimming in whitewater. I also fear being stranded in the middle of large bodies of open water. So why I had any urge to throw myself from a cliff into a whirlpool in the ocean is beyond me. It made me think about this Blasket Island museum we went to earlier in the day. The Blasket Islands are a group of small Island off the tip of the Dingle peninsula. People used to live there, but their small population dwindled to the point that there was only one child left – a boy – and no young women. So they ended up evacuating the Island in 1953.

Now no one lives there. The thing is, why did anyone ever choose to live there? The weather made it impossible to reach the mainland more than half the days of a year. Deaths at sea were not uncommon. It’s a harsh, brutal location to live.

I started theorizing that perhaps the Irish had a certain familiarity with pain. Maybe that’s why there are so many great Irish writers. I mean, the population of Ireland is about 4 million. It’s tiny. And yet, great literature.

But back to Dingle. Wandering around town on the first night, we came across a beautiful church and tried unsuccessfully to determine what time the next service was. The church remains open all day, so we went in and admired the architecture and stained glass from a pew close to the altar. After a quiet five minutes, an old woman entered and slowly made her way up the aisle, using the pews as her support. When she reached us, she explained that the next service was at 10:00. Eileen remarked that in place of a church bulletin, they seem to have a little old Irish woman who can read your mind.
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The worst thing about traveling is the travel. I mean the transportation – the stale air on the bus, the overpriced airport food, the seatback in front of you inevitably crushing your knees, the smell of jet fuel just before takeoff. All that stuff. All things considered, though, our trip to Ireland went pretty well. The plane was equipped with individual tv screens on each seatback, and you could choose from about 10 different movies, some tv shows, video games, and detailed flight path info. I watched two movies and played five video games before breaking it. I don’t know what happened.

Unfortunately, Eileen and I can’t really sleep on planes, so we ended up essentially missing a night of sleep. When we see the sunrise, our internal clocks are telling us it’s midnight. And when we disembark from the plane in Shannon and step up to the Dan Dooley car rental counter, it’s 3 a.m. back home. So when I discover that the car is stick shift, I’m a little surprised, but in my current state of exhaustion, I’m sure I just look confused. Driving on the right side of the car and on the left side of the road isn’t that hard. But it takes some thinking. Add to that shifting with your left hand and worrying constantly about the width of the road and you’ll find it makes you even more tired than you already are.

But I’m not complaining. Having done this once before, Eileen and I are sure to take it slow and not drive too far on day one. We go to Kilrush, which, in retrospect, was not a great town by Irish standards. Still, it’s clearly European – with its small cars, its roundabouts, its restaurant/café/pub-filled town center, and its plethora of men wearing unfamiliar sports jerseys. So we’re happy.

We’re even happy to pay the equivalent of $7 for a tuna salad on white bread, it being the cheapest thing we can find. The euro is valued at about 1.6 U.S. dollars currently. So prices will hurt. After lunch, we go to a walled garden just outside of Kilrush and debate whether to pay the five euro each for entry. We do. The garden is just okay; the highlight, hands down, is the truffula tree-looking plant (echium pininana), which the internet tells me is called the “tower of jewels.”

Eventually, we make our way to the Killimer ferry, and, in an odd stroke of luck, we arrive one minute before the hourly departure. Perfect timing. We’re crossing the Shannon estuary, and you can sometimes see dolphins from the ferry. But not today. We’ll have to wait until Dingle to see a dolphin.
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I’ll be posting some stories about the trip now that there’s some time to do so. But for now, take a look at the final batch of photos I’ve uploaded on flickr and the video below of the crazy winds at Mizen Head.

Windy Mizen Head from Tim Storm on Vimeo.

By the way, below is a map of our approximate route. You can click on it and move it around and zoom in/out.

View Larger Map

Sixteen more photos up in flickr.

We’re taking lots of pictures, and I’ve posted a few on a flickr set. We get internet occasionally, but I’m going to have to postpone the narrative updates for now, though I promise some to come.