Follow the Walking Man
On Mt Brandon, looking back over the magnificent Smerwick Harbour, Ireland.
If you are a regular visitor to this site, you’ll know that I love walking.
The thing is: some days I enjoy it more in retrospect than in real time!
By Day 8 of our walk around the Dingle Peninsula, that was certainly the case. I was tired.
We’d lost the trail on a bog-covered mountain the day before, and doses of anti-inflammatory drugs overnight had not met the challenge of ageing knees and hip joints. Tired and sore.
Then there was the intermittent rain: just enough so that we had to pull the raincoats out of bags at least once a day; just enough to ensure it was always slippery under foot. Tired and sore and wet.
According to our notes, we had another mountain to cross…
Distance: 19 km/13 miles, Ascent: 670 m/2010 ft
Flower Border
Flowers in the village send us off on our way…
Cow in the Countryside
We had a fair walk along country roads before heading off cross-country.
Still Waters
Quiet waters and a dotting of farms under lowering skies.
Currach or Naomhóg
The Blasket islanders developed a distinctive regional type of currach (or naomhóg) which they used for transport and fishing.
Creek Waters
Barbed Wire
Sheep’s wool, stone fence and a green mountain; it doesn’t get more Irish than that.
Irish Sheep
The sheep are curious about out our progress.
Wild Honeysuckle
Like the Irish spirit, the delicate honeysuckle (Woodbine: Lonicera periclymenum) is flexible, resilient, and deceptively strong.
From Mount Brandon
In spite of low cloud, we still have magnificent views back over Ballydavid Head and the Three Sisters.
Ogham Stone
This Ogham, dating back to the 4th Century, apparently says: “Ronan, the priest son of Comgan”.
We were really excited to reach the Ogham Stone in the saddle between Masatiompan and Mount Brandon: according too our trip notes, there were a number of Ogham stones along our walk, but so far we had not succeeded in seeing any of them. We had looked – but the notes were often a bit vague, so we weren’t sure if we were looking in the wrong place or for the wrong thing. We were beginning to wonder if the stones had all been carried away by archaeologists or leprechauns. This was our first!
Reaching the stone also meant we had reached the high point of our day, and the rest should be down hill. Easy, right?
Wrong! More of a water-runoff-gully than a path, the way down the mountain was steep, mired in mud and water, and frequently slippery. Burdened as we were with day-packs and camera gear, we picked our way down as carefully as we could, grateful for our trusty walking sticks. It took us more than an hour to reach the peat road part way down the hill. By this time, I was ready for the day to be over, but we still had at least eight kilometres to go… I took some comfort in the fact that three young walkers we had passed along the way were still well behind us, so it wasn’t just age that had slowed us down: it truly was a wicked stretch of ground!
Brandon Point
View over the flank of Masatiompan towards Brandon Point.
This Way Down
Steeper than it looks, muddy and wet; we were pleased we had our walking sticks.
A Cairn along the Way
Previous walkers have marked their passing along the “trail”.
Stones along the Path
At this point, the trail became a little drier and more manageable. There’s a walking man ahead!
Peat Gathering
Blanket peat covers most of the Dingle Peninsula. Although it is considered a non-renewable and not-particularly efficient energy source, it is harvested by locals for burning as fuel and for sale.
Teer Bog Road
A peat-cutter’s road leads down towards Brandon Bay.
Another Lamb…
Brandon Bay
Cottages come into view; dinner can’t be too far away!
More Cows…
Brandon Bay
Finally! We are back at sea-level, as the clouds lower over the bay.
Fishing Boats
Small craft are tied up at Brandon Pier.
Last Light
Rain clouds hover over the beach at Brandon Bay as we make our way to our lodgings near Cloghane.
As we sat in the pub in Brandon over a glass of wine and a fabulous hot meal, the wet, the pain, and the tired were forgotten – almost. It was a beautiful walk and I’d do it again…
Well, maybe on a dry day.
Sláinte!
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