After yesterday's exhausting drive from County Meath, we gather for an energizing breakfast in the town of Dingle (pop 1,671 in 2022). We share our table with a trio of black cows. The air is cool and humid, cloudy with just a hint of livestock. We pull up the 'Maps' app and a few web sites to plan our day; we want to drive a portion of the Ring of Kerry and explore the 'wild' Irish landscape.
After studying the standard tourist route, we plan to start in Killorglin (just under an hour's drive) or Glenbeigh (Co Kerry's north coast, just over an hour's drive), spend some time around Killarney and Ross Castle, take in the lookouts around Muckross Lake and try to make it to Kenmare (Co Kerry's south coast, just under a two-hour return).
We propose our idea to the proprietor of our bed and breakfast. She shakes her head, "Don't do the Ring of Kerry, do the Slea Head Drive". What is Slea Head Drive? She must see how tired we are from yesterday and educates us, "It's a lot less driving and just as pretty."
Slea Head Drive is the name of a ring road around the Dingle Peninsula – on the map, it's route R559. Since we're already in Dingle, the time to reach stops is minutes, not hours. We thank our host profusely, switch plans, and start a new search.
Because Ireland drives on the left, you're meant to go clockwise around the Drive from Dingle (the same applies to the Ring of Kerry) – you get the best sight lines to the seashore. We start our tour just ten minutes away to the west at Ventry Beach. Despite the steady breeze and lack of sun, the locals are out enjoying the water: beachcombers, dog walkers, swimmers, kayakers, boaters. Kids are building their dream castle in the sand. Small collections of colored stones and little shells decorate the riprap. Ventry Bay is enclosed and calm, a perfect spot to ease into our day.
Our next stop is just a few minutes down the road, The Lios is what is known colloquially as a 'Fairy Fort', a Bronze Age (up to the first millennium AD) construction of circular stone forms. Oddly, the folks running the site have made it into a kind of petting zoo, so there are droppings everywhere. We suppose, back in the day, the inhabitants would have kept goats and sheep, so maybe this is 'period accurate'.
The Lios lays on a shallow peak, with three-sixty-degree views back to Ventry Beach and the surrounding hills. We buy our tickets, which includes a container of feed for the livestock (which explains the portly proportions of the animals). It is an unexpected and strange combination of archeology and roadside novelty.
Another short drive brings us to Dún Beag Fort; this is from the Iron Age (6th-5th century BC). This also has the feel of a 'roadside attraction', but without the zoo. We pull up to the Visitors' Centre, a large stone building clearly designed to look ancient. It houses a restaurant, a food truck, a souvenir shop, and a theater presenting a short film about the site along with a model reconstruction. It appears there's a good crowd enjoying the food and shopping, but very few going down to the Fort itself – understandable, as the crab rolls at the food truck are outstandingly delicious.
Then we learn that the Fort is not accessible; storms in the last decade have left the site unsafe. But it's still possible to walk down the hill to the cliff's edge and look over the fence at the old walls. We are not disappointed. Despite the safety fencing, the cliffs and the Fort are stunning. We are amazed to think this structure has stayed intact for thousands of years in this precarious place, on a sharp, exposed promontory dotted with wildflowers on the rim of Dingle Bay.
The Fort consists of a series of lateral ditches and embankments running down the slope. A thick stone wall encloses the level landing with the circular 'fort'. The plateau is eroding from the west, and that side is totally inaccessible.
While the Fort is intriguing, the scenery from its location is also breathtaking. We can look down the cliff face of dark, striped rocks to the lapping waves and foam.
The foothills of Sliabh an Iolair (Mount Eagle) are above us to the north. To the west, we get our first look at the Na Blascaodaí (Blasket Islands). And to the east, our eyes scan down the green prongs of the jagged coast, Pointe na Páirce (Parkmore Point) near Ventry, all the way to the silhouette of Cnoc na Ceathrún (Carhoo Hill) – note the boat traffic near the mouth of Dingle Harbour and the Eask Tower (1847) on the top of the headland.
A few minutes further west, we arrive at the Fahan Clochán (Fahan Beehive Huts). Fahan is the name given to the Early Christian settlement across the Dingle Peninsula's south coast. The Clochán consists of a ring fort and several corbeled, dry-stone structures resembling conical 'beehives'.
The settlement occupies an exposed, south-facing slope with incredible vistas out to the Blaskets and Dingle Bay. A slab with a cross is built into the east wall. Obviously meant to be defensible, the huts are packed close along the south (downhill) edge of the ring, with a tight yard and narrow pathways between. The higher ground remains open, though shapes in the earthwork and the scattered rocks suggest other structures may have stood here.
Inside, the Clochán are fantastically clean and well kept. We can only assume that the walls have been carefully and faithfully rebuilt and properly maintained. But the huts give a sense of the kind of life the early settlers must have scraped together in these hills. At least two other Clochán are visible further up in the fields.
No matter the difficult life, the panoramic views are easy to appreciate. Thankfully, here, the livestock remain outside the ring.
When we reach Ceann Sléibhe (Slea Head) it's about three. From here, the road turns north. The location is marked by 'The White Cross' (c1950-?), a Crucifixion group with the two of the Three Marys and the Apostle John set on a plinth in the escarpment above the road.
The Islands are so close, we can see some of the structures facing Blasket Sound. An Dún Mór (Dunmore Head) stretches over the shoals towards the Islands. A fishing boat patrols the base of the cliffs.
The Blasket Centre (1993, renovated 2022) is about half-way round the loop. But it's three-thirty and we decide to make this our last stop; we'll finish Slea Head Drive tomorrow.
After a day of stone huts, the Centre is astonishingly new and large. Architecturally, its layout is a linear spine with connected building forms. It's a history museum (guide) that tells the story of the inhabitants of the Blasket Islands. The striking glass installation, "The Journey", is by the artist Róisín de Buitléar (Kawala's Glass Studios, Salah Kawala).
The long corridor seems to lead out to the cliff-walk and the observation decks that face the Islands and the Sound – but the doors are shut and we double-back. We decide to sit at the cafe's terrace and have a brownie sundae with a view of Dunmore Head, draped in emerald shades, before venturing down the pathways.
To get back to Dingle, rather than driving on the R559 around the north coast, we take Mám Clasach (road) in the town of Dunquin. This affords a climb up the north slope of Mount Eagle, with new vistas down both sides, west to the Islands (top image) and east to Ventry.
After a short break, we're back on Strand Street, with its colorful cottages and shops strung along the Harbour. Just before sinner, we stop inside St. Mary's Church (J. J. McCarthy, 1886). Though the exterior is covered in scaffolding, the interior is full of atmosphere, with bright splashes from the Neo-Gothic stained-glass. The vaulting above the chancel is unique, with a diamond skylight to illuminate the decorated Crucifix.
After dinner, we find the local ice cream 'test kitchen' and take our treats on our walk along Dingle Harbour. We are again drawn to Turbett's Spin City Funfair and the loud, summer energy of the local families with their kids.
