6th December, 2001
We left Dingle on Sunday morning and decided to
take the lower road back to Killarney through Anascaul. The sun
was out and it was a beautiful day, a big change and improvement
from the day before. Passing through Anascaul I spotted a little
pub called The South Pole, named after a local man (his name
escapes me) who crossed the Arctic with Scott. A book about his
life is available from most good bookshops (try Douglas Books). A
few miles on we came upon a road signpost for Inch. The last time
we were there was back in 1975. Inch was the setting for the
David Lean movie ‘Ryan’s Daughter’, and it has
lost none of its natural beauty. In 1975 we took our two children
and stayed overnight in Inch Bay Hotel. The kids were four and
five year’s old and when we put them to bed they climbed out
the bedroom window and were running around on the hotel’s
flat roof until an approaching customer told the receptionist
about the little children running around on the roof!! Needless
to say, their cocoa was cancelled that night and if you believe
that, you’ll believe anything!! Come to think of it we never
did learn who organised the breakout.
There was a bus full of American tourists making their way to a
craft shop which was almost on the beach. There was a big sign
which advertised that coffee was served all day, but when I asked
for two cups, the owner told me that her staff hadn’t turned
up for work so she couldn’t open the coffee bar. I bought a
Sunday Independent, giving her £20, she gave me £8.80 change.
“I gave you £20,” I said “Are you sure,” she
replied “I think it was a £10 note.” I wanted to say,
"I drove 100 miles to catch you for a £10, but I didn’t..
Eventually she gave me the £10 with a look of “I’ll
know you the next time.” We walked upto the hotel, but it
was shut, a local told us the bar would be open in about half an
hour but we headed for Killarney.
Killarney was buzzing, even on a Sunday there were a lot of
weekenders. We finally got a cup of coffee and moved on towards
Kenmare. We took the back road and about a mile out the road we
came upon a signpost for Torc waterfall. Walking in we met Paul
Daly originally from Gartan. Park. Paul,, with his wife Margaret
and son James took some snaps of them and started to climb and
climb and climb. Halfway up my wife said “I’ve had
enough, I’ll wait for you here.” I kept on going and
going hoping that around every bend I would meet the breath-taking
view. But no luck but I kept on going until eventually I split
the sole of my shoe on a sharp stone. Here I was, miles up, with
P.J. Carrolls contribution to my lifestyle taking its toll, one
very wet sock and then I saw a wide bend ahead, at last I
thought, wrong Michael, nothing but more moss and a path to
nowhere, so I turned back. I finally got down to where my wife
had rested but she was gone, replaced by three Americans who had
a message from my wife to me, one of them said “Your wife
said to tell you that when you’ve spoken to the angel
Gabriel come back down,” which I did and we carried on
towards Kenmare. What a magnificent route, the sun was shining
and the scenery was awesome. It really is God’s country. We
arrived in Kenmare about 2.00pm. Quills had a sale and my wife
tells me I got a bargain in paying £29.99 for a pair of Dubarry
leather shoes (and three pairs of socks for a fiver). Next stop,
something to eat. The main street has a lot of pubs &
restaurants. We looked into one, which seemed to be packed,
always a good sign, and when we walked in it didn’t seem
right. Everybody was sitting together, I went to the waitress to
order but no joy. We had walked in on a funeral party. I asked
the waitress to recommend a good restaurant “The two next to
each other across the road are excellent.” “Isn’t
that very nice of you to recommend the opposition,” I said.
“Why wouldn’t we” she smiled “We own all
three!!”. it was called O’Donovan’s and it was
excellent service. Friendliness and cleanliness, and an excellent
meal, we had a drink while we waited for the menu, and I asked
the barman who was singing the lovely songs on CD in the
background. “A Corkman”, he replied “Jimmy
McCarthy”. Finally we ordered two cups of coffee which came
with four complimentary fingers of fruit cake. Nice touch, doesn’t
cost a penny, but a touch that would make you want to go back.
Lovely town but it was time to move on through the Healy Pass to
be met by a beautiful view of Bantry Bay and down into
Glengarriff and home to Douglas. Total cost, including fungi
presents for the grandchildren, about £200. Verdict - great
break, and overall great value, a reader - a widow, did ask me to
enquire why a single person has to pay more for a B&B than
the usual £50pps (per person sharing). I don’t know, but if
anybody involved in the hotel trade reads this, can they tell the
reader why she pays more when she’s on her own. There’s
a big market out there of single people, are you tapping it?
P.S. To Ken, who sent me the e-mail regarding what you think of
me, we cannot and will not publish letters without a full name,
address and telephone number. However, since this was a personal
opinion of Michael O’Hanlon, perhaps you would give us
permission to print your full name and address and then I will
print your letter with a right to reply to it. But Ken, have you
the bottle, the courage of your convictions or do you wish to
remain anonymous behind a dot.com. I await your reply with eager
anticipation.
Bye for now, Michael O’Hanlon.
