To The South

After spending the holidays in the states, we were anxious to go camping again but the weather was “cat” (that’s the Irish word for awful). We used the
downtime to research and buy good sleeping bags and folding chairs. Our moho doesn’t have a fixed bed and making one up every night was going to be a chore. So we both agreed to sleep on the two couches which were the perfect size for us. So many advantages to being short! 

Siobhan, the tv weather lady, finally offered a break in the clouds for a couple of days in a few spots (which is all we could hope for) and off we ventured again.

We were very relaxed in our preparations this time, considering ourselves experienced campers now (after our one night out in November). We took our time getting ready to leave and it was 2:30 before we left home. 

I’m a member of the Irish Motorhome Group on Facebook and found that the town of Cobh (cove) in Cork has a popular Aire. An Aire (from the  French Aire de Service) is basically a parking lot where motorhomes or caravans are welcome to stay the night. The limit in Cobh is 48 hours and there is no electric hookup. It’s by the water and a short walk to the amenities of the historic little town, which I had never visited. 

Cobh sounded okay but what we both really wanted was a private, isolated little nook off the beaten path, preferably overlooking a beach. There should be lots of these, right? Ireland is an island after all. I asked the Motorhome Group for suggestions near coastal Ballycotton which isn’t too far away. I got no response.

 

After five years I’m still in the mindset of finding the “hidden Ireland”. When we bought the moho I was imagining our own wild and secret getaway spots, including undiscovered beaches for exploring, shelling and rock collecting. I saw myself falling asleep beneath the skylight staring at the moon and stars, with the pounding of waves absorbing us into the energy of the universe and melding us together, heart and soul, with our ancient Celtic ancestors. I know what you’re thinking.

I’m not sure Dixie saw it this way but he did fancy the idea of peace and quiet. We left home full of anticipation and optimism, not sure where we’d end up. Not ten miles down the road the tire pressure gauge light comes on. Really? We pulled over and Dixie checked all the tires which looked fine. We stopped again at the next service station and he topped off all the tires. Gauge was still lit! 

At this point we were NOT happy campers full of anticipation and optimism. It would be getting dark soon and we didn’t really know where we were going. I felt my blood pressure rising. We decided to ignore the tire pressure gauge. My blood pressure rose some more. 

We put Ballycotton into Google maps and hoped for the best. It was well after dark when we saw signs for car parks (parking lots) along the coast. At last, we could unwind, have a little dinner, have a little wine, take a peaceful walk and let the camping magic begin. It was not to be so.

Cobh Aire

The first car park we passed looked perfect, with tiny glistening whitecaps heralding the sea beyond… and only a few cars in sight. But there was a height barrier to keep out the riffraff (like us). We were crushed and a little worried, but on we drove. We passed a couple more car parks but with the same barriers. So we made the decision to forget the feckin’ idyllic seaside paradise and just soldier on to Cobh. 

We were there in half an hour. I’d seen photos of the Cobh Aire on Facebook and it looked the same… a regular car park with a long line of extra wide spaces along a railing by the sea. I think there were 30 spaces. Surprisingly (and suspiciously), we were the only ones there!

Farther down, there were parking spaces for cars and that area was almost full. Since it was dark we couldn’t tell which way led to town. We started walking toward the cars and met a couple who said we were on the right track... just a couple hundred more yards. Five minutes and we were there.

St Colmans Cathedral, Cobh

Cobh is now on my list of favorite places in Ireland. It’s a stunning midsize town set on a hill with gorgeous views and multicolored terraced homes. It’s very clean and charming (I wish I had taken more photos) and has a massive 19th century cathedral that could rival St Patricks in Dublin. The detail, inside and outside, is astounding. The carillon is the largest in Ireland or Britain with a total of 49 bells. They say the largest weighs 3.6 tons. Guess there's not much demand for a handbell choir.

Street in Cobh

We had a late dinner of traditional meat and potatoes at a lovely hotel restaurant then an early bedtime. We both slept great!

The next morning I opened my eyes and raised the window shade to the tiny spark of a sunrise just beginning to blaze on the horizon. Dixie went for an early walk and brought me a dreamy, creamy latte from a local coffee shop. He took a thermos and the barista filled it to the brim. We made a light breakfast on the gas range, went exploring Cobh, then set out for one more night’s adventure. 

Ballybrannigan Strand

I checked Facebook to find that someone had responded to my request for a camping site near Ballycotton. Should we chance it? Of course!

The beach (called a “strand” here) was called Ballybrannigan and Google maps had us there in no time. We had to turn down some narrow boreens (little
one-way laneways) until we reached the end of the line… a small paved car park atop a grassy bluff overlooking a wide lonely beach and lapping blue ocean. No phone or wifi reception. OMG Just what I had imagined!

And as if that wasn’t enough, there was a stream that ran past the car lot complete with a little waterfall spilling into the sea.

Ballybrannigan Strand

We walked in the sand, watched the sunset and speculated where it would rise in the morning. We had dinner (leftovers from the night before) then watched the International Space Station fly past the moon. We strolled along the beach again then settled into listening to downloaded music from Dixie’s phone. 

As I lay down to sleep, I couldn’t take my eyes off Castor and Pollux smiling at us through the skylight, lulled by the pounding of waves absorbing us into the energy of the universe and melding us together, heart and soul, with our ancient Celtic ancestors. I’m going to like camping in Ireland!

Next weekend we're going to the Scoil Cheoil an Earraigh (Don't make me say it!) with "the lads" from the Monks pub as we do every February when there's no pandemic. It translates as the Springtime School of Music and is held in beautiful Ballyferriter on the Dingle peninsula in the southwest. Siobhán warns us that the weather will be cat, but we're going, cat or shine!