Day 17

Day 17: After the lashing storm of last night, we didn’t hold out much hope for the weather today, and indeed it was still blowing gales well into the morning. But by noon it looked as though it might brighten up and we made plans, hell or high windstorm, to head north into Glengarriff to have lunch.

The Park Bistro is connected to the Glengarriff Lodge and Spa, and since we ate there with Bill and Cindy and Laura, we knew the food was excellent, and they had Wifi we could tap into. It did not disappoint. Clare ate a chicken-sundried tomatoes-broccoli plate of pasta with that was bigger than her head (thereby breaking the first rule of life). Tom and Lisa split the roast beef and burger (yum, and yum) and Colin and Kari each got a fine tuna sandwich.

After uploading more blog entries and chasing down our waitress for the check (why do they always go MIA right after they serve the food?) we noticed that the weather was clearing and settling a bit. So we hopped into the car and headed out the Beara peninsula to see what we could see. We had designs to go all the way to Castletownebere but just outside Glengarriff we pulled into a scenic stop and met Kevin, who owns a lovely little red and blue boat named Miss Ellen. He offered to take us on a half-hour loop around Garnish Island and past the seals on Seal Rock for “a tenner a head”. Now, everything around here costs a tenner a head to get in (it’s about $17) so we thought, why not!

We all piled into the little painted boat, and I took a death grip on Clare, as she was so excited her little butt couldn’t sit still. Kevin was a sweet man, and he navigated the boat gently around Glengarriff Harbor, and past the promised Seal Rocks (there was a one-month old baby seal sunning itself next to its mother). A number of sleek, dark, curious heads kept popping up out of the water to monitor our progress. The seals looked very fat on the bay’s abundant mackerel, and their plump bodies appeared taut with health.

Kevin chattered on amiably about the harbor, the golf courses, the birds, mussel farming, the water, California, and he pointed out the house of the actress Maureen O’Hara on the curve of the bay. As we rounded Garnish Island we could see the edges of the Italian garden and its structures. A Martello tower sat prominently in the middle of the lushly forested Island.

The bay was calm and the wind blew lightly, but we all could see a huge rain cloud scudding quickly towards us. Just as we finished our tour and were puttering back to the dock, it began to spit. By the time we were headed up the ramp and towards our car, the cloud let go. It was almost as though it were perfectly timed: “okay, let’s clear up for 45 minutes so they can relax and bask in the beauty of the bay, and then just as they finish, let’s get back to business”. We all commented on what a perfect little trip that turned out to be.

We clicked ourselves back into the car and headed down the peninsula towards Castletownebere and wound our way through little hamlets such as Hungry Hill and Curryglass and Adrigole. As we approached Castletownebere, traffic slowed and Gardai (police) redirected the flow around the city center. We didn’t remember our conversation the day before about Colin Farrell doing a movie in the city center, and it was too crazy with movie people and gawkers to stop and properly enjoy the town. So, we turned around and headed back! It was a lovely, scenic drive, and after stopping in Bantry for a few provisions, we decided we hadn’t seen much of Durrus’ seven shops, so we stopped first at The Sheep’s Head pub to check out the scene. It was respectable enough, with what looked like good food coming out of the kitchen. After we tested the Murphy’s beer to make sure it was up to snuff, we strolled over to Ross Pub.

I took a photo of Tom and Clare outside the pub for our friend, Richard Ross. Contrasted with The Sheep’s Head pub, Ross was totally old school. It was a 15-foot by 15-foot square room with ripped naughahyde low stools, three low tables, and about 8 seats at the bar. Every conceivable space was covered in posters and flyers, some many years old, some offering help building or mending fences (what a metaphor), and some for upcoming events. A dirty sweatshirt was crumpled in the corner and decades of eau-de-cigarette-smoke permeated the depths of the fabric-covered bench seats. There were many kids in the bar as well. This was obviously the “local’s” pub. We loved it. We tested their Murphy’s and Jameson to make sure it wasn’t poisoned or anything, and then headed off to the cottage for our evening repast.

Kari and I cooked up a nice meal of mushroom toast appetizers, roasted cherry tomato and basil penne, and a crispy salad. Whiskey, wine, beer, and Bailey’s flowed, and before we knew it we were outside at 1:30am giggling and looking at the great swath of stars arcing overhead. See the next blog entry for more on that, because technically, it was the next day.:)

téigh in éag (means: to end!)