Sneem

To me, the Irish weather is like a mild chronic pain that I’ve learned to live with and mainly ignore. I jump for joy on the days the sun shines bright and wonder if it’s climate change and it’s here to stay. But after a day or two at most, the sun grows weary of my jubilation and bids us a mournful farewell. Then it’s business as painful usual.

Earlier this month it looked like one of those sunny portals was opening. Siobhan, the weather lady, pointed to a sunshine icon on her screen, so we took the hint and took to the road. 

Back in June, my niece and her family visited us from Georgia. We took a leisurely two days to drive the amazing Ring Of Kerry after having raved for weeks about it’s gorgeous vistas. Of course it rained the whole way and the kids sat in the back of our rented van playing their video games as we optimistic adults strained to catch a tiny glimpse of the sea or a mountain.

Anyway, one town we passed through was Sneem, just at the edge of the Ring. There is a campsite there called “Goosey Island” and now Dixie and I wanted to go back and see what that was about. Online we learned there were no reservations accepted and we should check in with Sean at Murphy’s Bar. Okay.

We planned to do just that but not until we had stopped in Kenmare along the way and revisited the Kenmare Stone Circle that we had explored with the family in June. 

At that time, it was crawling with tourists and felt very commercial. I wanted to “experience” it at a time when its magic wasn’t suppressed by iPhone photos and bustling crowds (yes, I did take photos this time but I wasn’t bustling).

As we had hoped, it was deserted other than the guy at the reception stall that took our two euro. After taking my obligatory photos I walked the circle, touching each and every stone and deliberately trying to be mindful… to not dwell too much on the ancient past which is tempting at a stone circle, but rather to appreciate my great fortune at being here and now as a link in the great chain of history. It could have been my ancestors (or yours) who hoisted those stones. Who knows???

Stone Circles are mostly from the bronze age which they say is roughly 2200-500 BC. No one is really sure but it’s believed they were used for ritual or ceremonies of some sort. The Kenmare Stone Circle is the biggest in southwest Ireland where there are about 100. It is also special in that it has a large central stone that is believed to be a burial monument. Wonder who’s under there! 

After all this dreaminess, Dixie finally succeeded in pulling me away so we could meet Sean and park up on Goosey Island. As we suspected, it wasn’t exactly an island but a large outcrop of land on the River Sneem. It was just on the edge of town, an easy walk for meals, drinks and of course lattes.

Goosey Island from the bridge in town

As I continue to blog, I realize that what I’m actually doing is making a record for myself of the towns and villages we visit. Just driving through, like we did in June, doesn’t really allow you to feel the distinction of each place and appreciate its uniqueness.

Sneem is another village right on a river, but with a pedestrian walk along its bridge that has a grated floor so you can look down at the rapids below and see mountains in the distance. You could stand there all day… if you didn’t mind getting wet because, contrary to what that bitch Siobhan led us to believe, it rained almost the whole time we were there. There were moments of misty reprieve and we explored the area, but it was mostly rain.

We loved the motorhome park. Because the season is about over, we had our choice of sites and chose to be right on the river with a view of the mountains. We didn’t realize right away that the river was tidal, morphing into an estuary before spilling into the sea, and the next morning we could walk out on the river bed and look for things… like rocks. There were plenty of rocks. I found a gorgeous little chunk of quartz with crystals embedded in it. 

Compare with first photo on this post. Same place, different tide.

Beside Goosey Island that really isn’t an island there’s a plot of land called The Way the Fairies Went. It’s a short walk with reproduction stone pyramids and “beehives”…a smart little architectural attraction but disappointing in its inauthenticity. It would be a good place to take kids.

We admired the historic church and many statues, had good food at O’Shea’s, good drinks at Murphy’s, a “hotdog” that wasn’t a hotdog from a roadside vendor, and shopped at Quills, a touristy place that sells Irish knitwear and gifts. I bought a wool hat that is very warm and won’t blow away in the wind (even if it does leave my hair flat).

Though it rained all the way home, we stopped and took lots of pix because it is Ireland after all… and every soggy place steals my heart!