Day two of driving was much better than the first. Starting off in a quiet city (Kenmare), knowing the way out is much better than starting in a busy city (Cork), with no clue how to get out. Within minutes of leaving town, we were on our way up, quickly hitting some very steep, rugged hills. The roads were still narrow, but the traffic was fairly light. As we climbed, we began to see more and more sheep. At the top, we encountered a building our two along with a sign, Moll’s Pass. Beautiful views of several peaks, countless pastures and sheep galore. A single house at the bottom of the valley completed the scene. From the high vantage point, it was easy to see and hear the Harley’s making their way up the pass … little dots turning into roaring beasts.
A few more viewpoints later, we were in Killarney, home of the Harley rally, said to be one of the largest in the world. We quickly got out of town, and made our way up the west coast of Ireland rather quickly.
We were eating up what seemed to be large chunks of the map in a short period of time. Before long, we were on the Dingle peninsula, our destination for the day. The town of Dingle is probably the most famous spot, but we stopped a little short and stayed in a very quiet town called Annascaul. There wasn’t much there other than the South Poll Inn, a pub/inn dedicated to Tom Crean, a local man who was part of an early expedition to the South Pole.
After some very tasty lamb chops, potatoes and veggies at the South Pole, we heeded some local advice, and made our way up to Annascaul Lake — our tiny Toyota Saris made like a 4×4, and took on a very rough, extremely narrow road with ease. We had to stop and laugh a few times, as roads barely 6 feet wide had a center-line painted on them … the road crews surely have a great sense of humour in Ireland. Fortunately we didn’t meet and oncoming traffic before arriving at the lake. The lake was small, but was surrounded by incredibly steep hillsides which were covered with rock and sheep. We walked around the area for an hour or two, enjoying the peacefulness of the place. No signs or sounds of humans … not even the Harleys … just the sounds of sheep and the occasional falling rock.
Following in my father’s footsteps, I took Michele on an adventurous country-road drive after the lake … no idea where we were, or where we were going, but, somehow, we ended up at a place that sold ice cream, so not all was lost. Dingle was a pleasant enough little town, but we were happy to get our ice cream, some groceries, and then get back on the road to Annascual.