Skellig
Well we finally made it to Skellig Michael - that lonely, mysterious island off the coast of Kerry!
After a marathon drive down from Belfast on Friday we arrived at our camp site on Valencia at about 11.45 after calling in to The Point Bar for a quick refreshment and a look at a picture of Gerry Adams and happy family pictured with the bar-owners and kids. The campsite was close to a field of sheep who bleated frantically on our arrival. They probably thought we were the farmer bringing goodies. It was a terrific sound. I swear each one of those sheep has a distinctive bleat. They also like rubbing themselves against the metal gates. Not the most restful of nights! Next morning was glorious. The last couple of times we've gone down to Kerry the weather has either been crap or we've missed the sailing. Today we got down to Portmagee in plenty of time. Even so we only got on because of a couple of cancellations.
It takes about 45 minutes to get out to the Skelligs. On the way I chatted to a South African couple with their child. They were interested in the local bird-life. Mainly gannets and razorbills and kitiwakes.
Little Skellig is passed first. I don't think anyone has ever tried to survive on this rock. It hosts the largest colony of gannets in Ireland. You can smell the guano from some way off. A little later the jagged bulk of Skellig Michael looms up. We had a couple of hours on the island - enough time to climb the 600 steps to the monastic settlement. They've done a lot of restoration work on the place. The beehive huts have been restored and you can see the original cruciform crosses. Pity there were so many gabbling tourists but then again what are we?
I took off down another set of steps for some solitude and was shat on by a passing fulmar.
Kitiwakes abound and in the sheltered landing cove we saw a seal playing in the clear blue water.
How the monks made it out there in their leather coracles is beyond me. They would have been cut off for most of the year.
If you fancy a good read on the history of Skellig buy or borrow Sun Dancing by Geoffrey Moorhouse. He mixes fact and fiction to give a feeling for the place.
L and I then repaired to Dingle where I met an old work mate starting of a new but still boozy life there. I also met a school fellow whom I hadn't heard tell off for a quarter of a century. Strangely my workmate had just split up from his sister back in Belfast.
That's all the Irish World Heritage sites done now. I'll have to find other reasons for going back to Kerry. I don't think that'll be hard!
After a marathon drive down from Belfast on Friday we arrived at our camp site on Valencia at about 11.45 after calling in to The Point Bar for a quick refreshment and a look at a picture of Gerry Adams and happy family pictured with the bar-owners and kids. The campsite was close to a field of sheep who bleated frantically on our arrival. They probably thought we were the farmer bringing goodies. It was a terrific sound. I swear each one of those sheep has a distinctive bleat. They also like rubbing themselves against the metal gates. Not the most restful of nights! Next morning was glorious. The last couple of times we've gone down to Kerry the weather has either been crap or we've missed the sailing. Today we got down to Portmagee in plenty of time. Even so we only got on because of a couple of cancellations.
It takes about 45 minutes to get out to the Skelligs. On the way I chatted to a South African couple with their child. They were interested in the local bird-life. Mainly gannets and razorbills and kitiwakes.
Little Skellig is passed first. I don't think anyone has ever tried to survive on this rock. It hosts the largest colony of gannets in Ireland. You can smell the guano from some way off. A little later the jagged bulk of Skellig Michael looms up. We had a couple of hours on the island - enough time to climb the 600 steps to the monastic settlement. They've done a lot of restoration work on the place. The beehive huts have been restored and you can see the original cruciform crosses. Pity there were so many gabbling tourists but then again what are we?
I took off down another set of steps for some solitude and was shat on by a passing fulmar.
Kitiwakes abound and in the sheltered landing cove we saw a seal playing in the clear blue water.
How the monks made it out there in their leather coracles is beyond me. They would have been cut off for most of the year.
If you fancy a good read on the history of Skellig buy or borrow Sun Dancing by Geoffrey Moorhouse. He mixes fact and fiction to give a feeling for the place.
L and I then repaired to Dingle where I met an old work mate starting of a new but still boozy life there. I also met a school fellow whom I hadn't heard tell off for a quarter of a century. Strangely my workmate had just split up from his sister back in Belfast.
That's all the Irish World Heritage sites done now. I'll have to find other reasons for going back to Kerry. I don't think that'll be hard!
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