Eirinn: Day 2 | Journal | Isle of Albion

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Eirinn: Day 2

Monday 3rd September 2007

The dawn of the second day in Ireland started with a beautifully clear sky and a spectacular view from the front of the cottage out over the Kenmare estuary.

This weather was a huge improvement upon the dreary skies I'd encountered in 2006, and as it turned out, it held for most of the week.

The site I most wanted to visit was Drombohilly. I'd attempted to reach it in 2006 and been defeated at the last moment by an impassable barbed wire fence. This time, I was better prepared, and I had a clearer idea regarding the best way to approach the circle.

The approach to this circle is deceptive. It can be seen from the road, resulting in an entirely misplaced sense of optimism. After setting off across the fields, the direct line of sight is soon lost, and the journey can easily become an arduous slog across rough and boggy ground.

Fortunately, the good weather had kept the ground reasonably dry on this occasion, and the patches of marsh were easily circumvented. As an additional bonus, the final, awkward fence had been wrenched from the ground at its base, facilitating easy passage underneath. Miraculously, the trek to the circle proved quite pleasant. The ease of the ground underfoot was complimented by beautifully clear skies, allowing for some breathtaking views out over the surrounding countryside.

Drombohilly certainly didn't disappoint, looking just as magnificent up close as the distant views had suggested.

The view out over the estuary to the Ring of Kerry beyond was also magnificent. This alone would make the effort of the climb worthwhile.

There's something deeply soothing about the Irish landscape. Its drama and beauty are obvious, but much of its appeal stems from the sheer sense of space. Ireland is much less densely populated than Britain, and this is particularly true of the Beara Peninsula. It's easier to breathe here, and to discover than sense of isolation that engenders an inner tranquillity. Ireland doesn't really inhabit the modern world, and there is a palpable sense that the distant past is only a short step away.

After a gentle walk back to the car, a need for lunch and additional provisions provided an excuse to return to Kenmare, and thereby an opportunity to photograph Kenmare Circle - or "The Shrubberies" as it's known locally. Despite its faults, this is still a beautiful (and remarkably complete) stone circle. Sadly, the town is slowly encroaching upon it, and it's hard to imagine a pleasant future for this unfortunately located antiquity.

After leaving Kenmare and heading back onto the peninsula, the good weather was still holding, and Uragh seemed like the logical next stop. The circle is only a short drive from the road, and despite its seclusion, easily accessible.

The small parking space at Uragh (a dirt pullover with room for three cars) is curiously patrolled by the local farmer - a spindly little man with the most unintelligible Irish accent I've ever heard. After three repetitions of the same sentence, I still found myself staring at him in blank confusion. He clutched a handful of postcards, and it was evident that these were for sale, but beyond that, I still haven't a clue what he was saying.

It's worth mentioning at this point that Uragh attracts a fee for 'admission'. Although admittedly modest (1 Euro), I do struggle with the principle of being charged for access to heritage sites such as this - especially sites where little is done to maintain them. I find the idea of private individuals profiting from antiquities fairly distasteful. But then I'm also aware that as an affluent tourist, it's a little arrogant to presume to tell Irish farmers what moral rights they do or don't have. It's presumably not the easiest of livings, and I can't say that I wouldn't take the opportunity to turn a small profit it I was in those shoes. However, farmers have seldom been the friends of ancient sites - often destroying them to make way for larger fields, or to deter visitors - and I find myself naturally unsympathetic towards their plight. However, none of these issues are black and white, so ultimately, I sit firmly on the fence and leave others to judge the moral case - and whether to donate to the honesty box when the farmer is absent.

Uragh is a short stroll from the parking place, and the views along the way are magnificent. The countryside is dramatic and bleak, punctuated by dark and broody pools of peat-blackened water.

When path climbs up over a small ridge, the stone circle suddenly looms into view, and I challenge any human being with a sense of wonder not to be impressed.

This is one of my favourite places on Earth - tranquil and majestic in equal measure, truly offering nourishment to the soul of anyone open to receive it. This is an ancient place, and the sense of walking in the footsteps of our ancestors is humbling. Here more than anywhere in Ireland, the past seems suddenly much closer. The views from this site are stunning.

Next stop on the day's tour was Ardgroom. This is another easily accessible circle, and another spectacular location. It's a bit closer to civilisation, so lacks the sense of isolation and seclusion that graces some of the other Beara monuments, but that's really just nit-picking. Ardgroom is undoubtedly one of Europe's finest stone circle, and the views from here are breathtaking.

Evening was starting to draw in, but there was just enough time to squeeze in one last visit.

Ballycrovane looks easy to find on the map, but I struggled to locate the correct turning. I overshot the correct road by a few miles before doubling back after realising my error. Once on the right track, the path to the standing stone is easy to find. This is, however, another one of those sites situated on private land, and the owner has accordingly spotted an opportunity to make money, and started charging an entrance fee. I didn't see anyone nearby and I didn't see an honesty box, so how often this will be an issue is anyone's guess. Just to add insult to injury, the exact route of approach is far from clear, and there are no signs to indicate the correct path. Fortunately, it's hard to get lost, but the entrance fee feels very much like an excuse to rob the visitor without offering anything in return.

Nevertheless, this is an overwhelmingly impressive menhir. It stands around 5.2 metres in height, and dominates the bay over which it looks. This must have been highly visible to ancient mariners navigating the estuary, but its significance remains a mystery.

Ballycrovane is an ogham stone, but the inscription is pretty high up by all accounts. I was unable to see it on my visit.

Watching the sun paint the ogham stone in a honey-warm light made for a fine end to a wonderful day. By the time I reached the cottage, the sun had sunk below the moutains of the Ring of Kerry on the other side of the estuary. The dying light offered one final view before I closed the door and settled down for an evening in front of a peat fire.