Off to the Ring of Kerry....
We'll be traveling the path of the Ring of Kerry around the Iveragh Peninsula today. There are five great peninsulas in Ireland's beautiful southwest that stretch miles out into the ocean, dotted with little islands here and there that are rich in history.
We've asked Kevin about the relative lack of major Catholic churches here in the land of monks, monasteries and St. Patrick.
Back in 1688, an Act was passed in Parliament to remove King James II, King of England and Scotland from the throne. He was unpopular because of his attempts to push Catholicism on the Protestants. In the ensuing battle to defend his crown he was defeated by William III. By 1700 Catholics were forbade from owning property. It was not until 1829 with the passage of the Catholic Emancipation Act that churches could be built. All the previous churches became Church of England at the time of the Reformation.
We had our obligatory shopping stop at a store selling Irish clothing and gifts. So sorry Paul said not to buy him a hat! I shot some soothing pictures of the grounds, babbling brooks and little white houses snugged up to the mountain.
This area is home to Ireland's highest peak at 3412 feet in the Macgilleycuddy Reeks Range and is a staging area for the Gap of Dunloe, a narrow valley that separates this range and one to the south, and a famous hiking area. Add the presence of all these beautiful lakes and you have a recreation paradise.
As we proceed south, Kevin speaks of the non-renewal source of energy known as peat, harvested from raised or blanket bogs. It's non-renewal because it is a soil made up of the partially rotted remains of dead plants which have accumulated on top of each other in waterlogged places for thousands of years. Ireland certainly has the high rainfall and poor drainage needed for peat production. When cut and dried into briquettes it gives an intense burn and produces a fine ash with a pleasant mild scent.
We will get up, close and personal with peat and thatch at The Kerry Bog Village where in addition to the 18th and 19th century thatched cottages on display, Kerry Bog Ponies and Irish Wolfhounds are raised.
The little cottages are outfitted with period furniture and fittings and the roof thatch is substantial and dense. Farm implements are scattered throughout the landscape while the ponies graze in the adjacent fields
Ireland has always been an agricultural nation. In 1845, the beginning of the Great Hunger, the population was 8 million people. The majority worked on the land for landlords and had small acreage on which the grew their food, mainly potatoes supplemented with some cabbage and dairy. The potato was the staple of the rural Irish poor and the failure of the crop from the potato blight fungus in 1845 and 1846 left millions exposed to starvation and death from sickness and malnutrition.
Most poor farmers had little or no money to buy food, which was widely available for purchase throughout the famine years. They did, however, have to continue to pay rents in cash or kind to landlords. Failure to do this during the famine saw many thousands being evicted, worsening the death toll. Some found lodging in Famine Villages where entire families lived in one room. Others emigrated to America, many in unseaworthy boats where they were below deck for the entire passage. In five years, the population dropped to under 6 million.
During this time the British Government drastically cut relief measures in mid 1847 so that Irish tax payers, as opposed to the Imperial Treasury, would foot the bill for famine relief, certainly contributed greatly to the mass death that followed.
No wonder they hate each other.
We stop to gaze across Dingle Bay and the Dingle Peninsula. This is the perfect place for star gazing with light pollution controls in place. As we round the bend the Atlantic Ocean comes into view. It is still foggy and gray outside. We hug the coastline as we pass through Waterville, a favorite holiday spot for Charlie Chaplin and his family. Eventually building a house which is still visited by Chaplin's, Charlie's daughters and grandchildren.
Across a short bridge to Valentia Island we note the 160th Birthday of the laying of the first transatlantic cable to Newfoundland and the sending of the first telegram by Queen Victoria.
We are headed north now and see some wavy blue and white signs that read WAW, or the Wild Atlantic Way. Stretching 3500 miles from Donegal in the northwest all the way around Ireland, one can have WAW 'passports' stamped to show the completion of the journey.
Kevin almost laughs when we arrive at our lunch stop boasting the most beautiful view in Ireland. Well we can't see our hand in front of our face with all the pea soup fog. But they say in Ireland that every day has four seasons so we have our cafeteria lunch and miraculously things begin to lift as we exit.
Our view to the Atlantic is both beautiful and spooky with clouds and shafts of sunlight.
We are nearing Killarney when we pull into the Kissane Sheep Farm. There is an occasional sheep on the road, but they scatter as soon as they hear mint sauce. We are going to have a little lamb love and watch a sheep dog do her thing.
Mom is not happy when her tiny, cuddly one is plucked from her pen to be passed around amongst us. Loud bleats echo off the galvanized walls. After some vigorous hand washing we follow the path to the demonstration area. In the field far below, sheep huddle in a far corner, their backsides splashed with a brightly colored code.
Sitting at attention, is Katy, raptly surveying the scene, oblivious to us and all our flapping scarves and iPhones. When Evan gives the signal through a small whistle that translates to go get'em Katy does not head straight to the sheep she has been looking at for ten minutes but runs directly opposite to sweep the area.
She runs them around in circles for our amusement and finally into their pen.
These working dogs are so attuned to their handlers with all their traits and nuances that once they reach two years old it is almost impossible for them to be partnered with anyone else.
Wow we are cold.....but as it may rain tomorrow we are taking our Jaunting Cart ride through a part of the National Park today. Our driver, or jarvey, is Mike and he is a character.
We pile into our little carts and off we go with Mike talking a mile a minute....You know I wash Tommy every night and as soon as my back is turned he rolls in the mud! When things get hilly....Jaysus, Tommy, you're six years old, in your prime. Pick up your feet! When he notes that the red deer in the park are starting to overrun the surrounding areas....Well, the kids have gone soft. They used to hunt for the freezer. Now they rush off to the shops for meat. Too many video games!
We are done for the day and frozen. I had taken my lighter jacket because the morning was so mild. Now what do they say about weather in Ireland?
We'll be traveling the path of the Ring of Kerry around the Iveragh Peninsula today. There are five great peninsulas in Ireland's beautiful southwest that stretch miles out into the ocean, dotted with little islands here and there that are rich in history.
We've asked Kevin about the relative lack of major Catholic churches here in the land of monks, monasteries and St. Patrick.
Back in 1688, an Act was passed in Parliament to remove King James II, King of England and Scotland from the throne. He was unpopular because of his attempts to push Catholicism on the Protestants. In the ensuing battle to defend his crown he was defeated by William III. By 1700 Catholics were forbade from owning property. It was not until 1829 with the passage of the Catholic Emancipation Act that churches could be built. All the previous churches became Church of England at the time of the Reformation.
We had our obligatory shopping stop at a store selling Irish clothing and gifts. So sorry Paul said not to buy him a hat! I shot some soothing pictures of the grounds, babbling brooks and little white houses snugged up to the mountain.
This area is home to Ireland's highest peak at 3412 feet in the Macgilleycuddy Reeks Range and is a staging area for the Gap of Dunloe, a narrow valley that separates this range and one to the south, and a famous hiking area. Add the presence of all these beautiful lakes and you have a recreation paradise.
As we proceed south, Kevin speaks of the non-renewal source of energy known as peat, harvested from raised or blanket bogs. It's non-renewal because it is a soil made up of the partially rotted remains of dead plants which have accumulated on top of each other in waterlogged places for thousands of years. Ireland certainly has the high rainfall and poor drainage needed for peat production. When cut and dried into briquettes it gives an intense burn and produces a fine ash with a pleasant mild scent.
We will get up, close and personal with peat and thatch at The Kerry Bog Village where in addition to the 18th and 19th century thatched cottages on display, Kerry Bog Ponies and Irish Wolfhounds are raised.
The little cottages are outfitted with period furniture and fittings and the roof thatch is substantial and dense. Farm implements are scattered throughout the landscape while the ponies graze in the adjacent fields
Ireland has always been an agricultural nation. In 1845, the beginning of the Great Hunger, the population was 8 million people. The majority worked on the land for landlords and had small acreage on which the grew their food, mainly potatoes supplemented with some cabbage and dairy. The potato was the staple of the rural Irish poor and the failure of the crop from the potato blight fungus in 1845 and 1846 left millions exposed to starvation and death from sickness and malnutrition.
Most poor farmers had little or no money to buy food, which was widely available for purchase throughout the famine years. They did, however, have to continue to pay rents in cash or kind to landlords. Failure to do this during the famine saw many thousands being evicted, worsening the death toll. Some found lodging in Famine Villages where entire families lived in one room. Others emigrated to America, many in unseaworthy boats where they were below deck for the entire passage. In five years, the population dropped to under 6 million.
During this time the British Government drastically cut relief measures in mid 1847 so that Irish tax payers, as opposed to the Imperial Treasury, would foot the bill for famine relief, certainly contributed greatly to the mass death that followed.
No wonder they hate each other.
We stop to gaze across Dingle Bay and the Dingle Peninsula. This is the perfect place for star gazing with light pollution controls in place. As we round the bend the Atlantic Ocean comes into view. It is still foggy and gray outside. We hug the coastline as we pass through Waterville, a favorite holiday spot for Charlie Chaplin and his family. Eventually building a house which is still visited by Chaplin's, Charlie's daughters and grandchildren.
Across a short bridge to Valentia Island we note the 160th Birthday of the laying of the first transatlantic cable to Newfoundland and the sending of the first telegram by Queen Victoria.
We are headed north now and see some wavy blue and white signs that read WAW, or the Wild Atlantic Way. Stretching 3500 miles from Donegal in the northwest all the way around Ireland, one can have WAW 'passports' stamped to show the completion of the journey.
Kevin almost laughs when we arrive at our lunch stop boasting the most beautiful view in Ireland. Well we can't see our hand in front of our face with all the pea soup fog. But they say in Ireland that every day has four seasons so we have our cafeteria lunch and miraculously things begin to lift as we exit.
 |
| Lisa says "Hi" |
We are nearing Killarney when we pull into the Kissane Sheep Farm. There is an occasional sheep on the road, but they scatter as soon as they hear mint sauce. We are going to have a little lamb love and watch a sheep dog do her thing.
 |
| It's Kris's turn |
Mom is not happy when her tiny, cuddly one is plucked from her pen to be passed around amongst us. Loud bleats echo off the galvanized walls. After some vigorous hand washing we follow the path to the demonstration area. In the field far below, sheep huddle in a far corner, their backsides splashed with a brightly colored code.
Sitting at attention, is Katy, raptly surveying the scene, oblivious to us and all our flapping scarves and iPhones. When Evan gives the signal through a small whistle that translates to go get'em Katy does not head straight to the sheep she has been looking at for ten minutes but runs directly opposite to sweep the area.
These working dogs are so attuned to their handlers with all their traits and nuances that once they reach two years old it is almost impossible for them to be partnered with anyone else.
Wow we are cold.....but as it may rain tomorrow we are taking our Jaunting Cart ride through a part of the National Park today. Our driver, or jarvey, is Mike and he is a character.
We pile into our little carts and off we go with Mike talking a mile a minute....You know I wash Tommy every night and as soon as my back is turned he rolls in the mud! When things get hilly....Jaysus, Tommy, you're six years old, in your prime. Pick up your feet! When he notes that the red deer in the park are starting to overrun the surrounding areas....Well, the kids have gone soft. They used to hunt for the freezer. Now they rush off to the shops for meat. Too many video games!
We are done for the day and frozen. I had taken my lighter jacket because the morning was so mild. Now what do they say about weather in Ireland?
I'm learning so much history from you Susan - thank you for the lessons and the awesome pictures! And thank you for letting my beautiful friend say Hi :) I loved seeing Lisa's beautiful smile and it shows all over her face what a grand time she is having. Give her a big hug from me. Sheri
ReplyDeleteI am so pleased to be traveling with her!
ReplyDeleteKline was jealous you got to hold a lamb. I love a good Boxer dog but it’s really something to see a work dog do work. Beautiful scenery
ReplyDelete