Dingle, County Kerry, Ireland, Saturday, Aug. 3, 2013 – Back to the Dingle Penninsula. Today we had a wonderful day touring Slea Head on the Dingle Penninsula. We set off in our two cars with the sky, as always, threatening rain. The proprietor of B&B said it was the best possible weather to see the pennisula, because the clouds and rain showers make it all the more dramatic and beautiful. She was right.

We visited a sad little “Prehistoric/Celtic” museum and then some beehive stone buildings. Both were privately run and required admission, and both were disappointing. “Piles of rocks,” Grandpa declared them as he climbed up the treacherous path strewn with rocks and sheep poop.

We did like Dun Beg, a prehistoric stone fort set on a cliff above the sea. It was almost dizzying, with the bright green hills lined with stone walls rising dramatically above a remarkably blue and green sea.

We fought traffic on the narrow, twisting road to a lovely hidden beach, with stunning views of the nearby Blasket Islands. We finally stopped at a pub, Tigh Bhric Pub, recommended by Rick Steves, which was deserted and hosted by a woman who was frosty at first and unhelpful.

We sat down, and then figured out that we had to order at the bar. It turned out all the food was homemade, and delicious, and she wasn’t unfriendly at all, but just trying to hook up a new beer keg.

She said she was from Dublin, “Blown In,” as the locals would say. “You are forever blown in,” she said. Even though she had lived there for years, she said that people would still say of her grandchildren, “Their mother was from Dublin, you know.” She said you also had to be very careful of who you are talking to, since everyone on this peninsula seems to be kin of some kind. She was extremely kind, and brought me a book on local archaeology to read over lunch, and told me all the directions to all the local ruins, which was very confusing. She kept saying I had to make a horseshoe, and that made me even more confused. But because of her, we did visit all those sites, even though our group was getting tired and itching to head home.

And it turned out they were the best ruins of the day. There was the Gallarus Oratory, a perfect, rain-tight, beehive-shaped church 1,300 years old – an early Christian church, basically. Perhaps 12 priests could sit in the tiny interior space. We also saw the low stone ruins of a monastery, extremely evocative with an ancient Celtic stone stele remade into a Christian cross with some creative carvings. This site overlooked the gorgeous sparkling bay, where 300-plus years ago a Spanish armada ship ran around and its 600 occupants massacred were by the English.

We finished at the ruins of an old church, Kilmalkedare, and its haunting graveyard, not to be missed, with ancient writings on steles and tombstones worn down to nearly nothing. It was a 12^th century Romanesque church used by the Normans, though the site dated back to much earlier Christian worship, and before that to pagan rituals and rites.

The landscape all over the peninsula was lush, dotted red by fuschias from Chile, growing like weeds. It felt like Hawaii at times, with its vast vistas and lush vegetation. It had apparently once been covered by oak forests, but it was hard to picture that now. So much from the past is so hard to imagine, but so magical to think about.

Editor’s note: These posts are without Rick’s camera because it got wet in LaHinch and died. We’ll try to post some of Alex’s great photos.