The Daily Diary of a Wandering Restaurateur
A Slight Change of Plans

The Route The Ring of Kerry is a 110-mile scenic drive around the coast of the Iveragh Peninsula. Our original idea today was to drive the Ring in a counter-clockwise direction so as to not be following all the tourist busses that make the circle going the other direction. But the idea of an early morning start followed by three hours of driving on narrow roads was just not stirring the blood.

Instead, we opted to backtrack six miles to the Bonane Heritage Park where we could find well-preserved archaeological sites spanning the Stone, Bronze and Iron ages right up to pre-famine times (mid-1800s). The idea of being able to walk through 5000 years of history including stone circles, a ring fort and other artifacts -- without having to fight mobs of tourists (they travel in packs, you know!) It sounded like a lot more attractive than three hours of dodging tour busses, particularly since our next stop, the Dingle Peninsula, held many of the same things we would likely see along the Ring of Kerry.

At Pat's suggestion, we did drive a short section of the Ring before heading for Dingle. We may have just been on a less-than-awe-inspiring stretch of it, but it didn't seem like that big a deal. If that's all there is, I couldn't imagine volunteering for three hours of it. Perhaps the allure of the Ring of Kerry is just good marketing. We won't find that out ... on this trip, at least. For us, just the fact that the route is jammed with tour busses is enough to send us running in the other direction. Such is the life of a traveler vs. that of a tourist.

Skirting Killarney, Our route took us north toward Tralee before we turned west onto the Dingle Peninsula and our destination, Dingle Town itself. We've rented an apartment in the middle of the downtown area, so shopping, restaurants, pubs and such will be within easy crawling distance. We'll gain a lot in convenience but probably lose a bit in readily accessible parking.


We were joined for breakfast by Martin, a young man from the Netherlands, in town for the music festival that starts tonight. By day he is a computer programmer, by night he's learning to play the Irish fiddle. The Heritage Park had a lot in a small area. The house in the lake is a reconstruction of a defensive dwelling from the Bronze Age. Access was by stepping stones hidden below the surface of the water. Then there's the remains of a ring fort, a high wall of dirt and rock made deeper by a dry moat around the outside. Then there is the ruins of a famine cottage, a stone circle and a standing stone that gave Margene almost an electric sensation when she touched it.


The road to Dingle had a little bit of everything. The road signs take a little work to wrap your head around. They're in both Gaelic and English but sometimes it's hard to tell the difference. Waterfalls, lots of ocean (we are, after all, on the western coast of the country), a few small towns and even some rugged, almost mountainous terrain in spots, all connected by narrow winding roads that require your constant vigilence. You never know what will be coming at you around the next corner. There's nothing quite like the adrenaline rush of suddenly finding a huge truck filling your windshield! Don't expect photos of that phenomenon. When it happens my only reaction is to see how quickly I can get all the way to the left without running off the road!


We made it safely to Dingle Town, found our apartment and even snagged a place to park about half a block from the door! By the time we were ready to head out in search of dinner, the rain that had been threatening all day came on in force. Fortunately, anything we need is within a few steps. We thought the Goat Street Bistro would be a good choice. It was, but they were still getting set up when we popped in. She suggested we go next door to McCarthy's Bar for a drink until they were ready. Nice recovery and much better to be telling us what could be done rather than only saying what could not>.

Owner Tom McCarthy was behind the small bar holding forth with (gasp!) a group from Maryland! A pint of the local lager for me, an Irish coffee for Margene and we slipped next door for dinner. Located on Goat Street, hence the name, the Bistro had good reviews and was a pleasant little place -- about 20 tables on the street level and another dining room upstairs. The menu was limited but imaginative. Margene was eating light tonight and made do with a small salad and pate. I had the three-course early special. I started with a lovely split pea soup with a hint of mint, then the Thai green curry with chicken. The weather rather called for something hearty and warming.

In the restaurant biz we always talk about the importance of serving hot food hot and the Irish have this down to an art form. Everything I have ordered has arrived too hot to immediately eat. Makes me wonder why that seems to be such a rarity in the US. For dessert, the obvious choice was their signature dark chocolate brownie with ice cream and whipped cream. It was more like molten chocolate than a typical brownie, though -- warm, incredibly dense and totally a legal drug!


[Itinerary Page]

© 2014 Restaurant Doctor