August 5, 2009: Slea Head Farm to An Ghlaise Bheag
The Three Sisters
The sun was still in evidence as Gavan and I made our preparations for day five of our walk. This began at 9:25 or so and included an initial stage on the coastal highway – though fortunately it was too early in the day for the giant tourist buses. Both of us took a lot of photos of the dramatic scenery as we headed north along the western edges of the peninsula. In the first hour the walk was dominated by views of the Blasket Islands, first on our left and then behind us – with the scene then shifting to the dramatic silhouette of the Three Sisters ahead. Ryan’s Daughter was filmed in this part of the world.
The gradients were easy and we made good progress but as we neared the Lewis Murphy pottery works a shower overtook us and we had to pause to don our raingear. I was wondering if we shouldn’t take shelter in the pottery’s tearoom but after a few minutes of hiding under a palm tree the rain stopped; it never returned on this day. We escaped the road at last and followed a track down to a river. Instructions called for a ford here but a bridge had been installed since the writing of our guidebook. Gavan, ever eager to accept such challenges, decided to ford the water anyway; this he did while I took his picture from the bridge.
We now used tracks to climb around the Great Blasket Centre, soon reaching a corner of Dunquin, where a youth hostel was perched on the corner. More walking on rougher tracks followed but once or twice we disdained inland diversions in order to stick to the straightforward roadway. After leaving the coast behind us we followed mostly minor paved roads in a northeasterly direction for the next few miles, drawing ever nearer to the Three Sisters on our left. Gavan noted that there was a stark contrast between the down-at-heels housing and the dull reeds on either side of the roadway and the magnificent views all about us. Again there were problems with finding a quiet place to pee.
We could just see some of the water of Smerwick Harbour over on our right as we reached a t-junction and turned to the southeast. Gavan now wanted us to go off-route for a short distance in order to reach Dun an Oir, site of an ancient promontory fort that was also used by Spanish and Italian forces when they sought to assist the Irish in an Armada-inspired revolt. He had read that this was an ideal picnic site – and so it proved to be. We settled down with our backs against a grassy dyke, the sun still shining brightly, and tucked into our lunches. I tried to take a little nap but failed. The huge harbour in front of us offered anchorage to an Irish naval vessel – Gavan said it was on drugs patrol.
Along the sands of Smerwick Harbour
When we resumed our walk we returned to our last road and soon dropped down to the sands of the huge harbour, which we would now almost circumnavigate, a long, laborious process. Occasionally we would we be driven back to the low cliff tops, encountering the odd caravan park, but mostly we were on the sands for the next few hours. The section of beach, known as the Wine Strand, evidently memorializes a piece of smuggling history. Gavan had actually brought his swimming suit on this trip but he never joined the holidaymaking throng as we encountered beach after beach.
Our direction was southeast at first, then northeast, then northwest. It was hard to gauge how far we had come (or how far we had to go) and I had trouble spotting a radio mast – which I knew was only a mile or so from the end. We were now into late afternoon shadows as we approached the second village on the route today, Ballydavid. A man was fixing his roof on our left and the town itself was full of tourists, some of whom were heading for the local pubs. Gavan said he would let me decide whether we should stop at one ourselves, but I had a feeling that it would be very difficult to get going again if we did stop.
This meant that we had to plow on, our direction now northeast again, following marshy and muddy tracks above red cliffs that descended in rocky splendour to the sea. Ahead of us was a pretty young blonde girl carrying a walking staff in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She was accompanied by a young man who hobbled along as though he were afraid to have his thighs touch. At one point the girl began to scramble on her own down to the sea, a very dodgy proposition. “Well,” Gavan said, “if the cigarettes don’t kill her, stupidity will.”
Gavan on the last mile to An Glaise Bheag
Exhausted, I was vainly scouring the territory ahead, hoping for some view of Gorman’s Clifftop Restaurant and Hotel. We had almost passed it before our path allowed access to a road that offered a final bit of uphill trudging and an entry into this oasis at last. It was 5:45 and, I estimated, we had walked 14 miles.
Gavan took off his boots and went inside while I sat down on a wooden chair outside and took my boots off as well. While I was doing this, bless his heart, Gavan returned with tots of whiskey for both of us – and this was a most welcome tonic. We now ventured inside and had a conversation with our proprietor, Mrs. Gorman I presume.
For much of the latter stages of our walk today Gavan has been casting a baleful eye at the northeastern horizon, the direction of the next day’s march, one that required walkers to climb a shoulder of the famous Mount Brandon, Ireland’s second highest peak – before beginning a perilous descent on the other side. To make this more appealing to its charges Celtic Trails had instituted a taxi service (the same taxi that would ferry our bags forward) to bring walkers some four or five miles closer to the cloud-enshrouded summit (Gavan had never seen the top of the mountain).
You could tell that Gavan was a bit worried about this stage and the idea was floated that perhaps we should just stay with the taxi all the way to our next destination. Perhaps he was worried on my behalf – but I was willing to go along with any strategy he chose. Mrs. Gorman now added that many walkers arrived at her establishment with these anxieties and that these usually disappeared with a good night’s sleep. So, agreeing to postpone any decision to the next day, we went to our room – which was on the ground floor this time.
At 7:00 we reported to the dining room where an elegant menu was provided. Gavan and I each had a Guinness and the steak. I followed this with an ice cream sundae. We went outside to catch a last view of the sea as the light faded and then went to our usual early beds.
To continue with the next stage our walk you need: