Ring Around the Kerry, We All Fall Asleep

Sunday, July 13th. Waking up in our hostel. 7:15 am.

After a night of several rounds of drinks and cover band songs, our group is in varying degrees of hungover-ness. Some didn’t drink, some drank enough, and some drank more than they should’ve, later than they meant to.
I push myself up in the bottom bunk  and look around at the sleeping state of my companions. We have all stripped down as far as we dare, suffering in the oppressive heat of the small room. 7 of us, plus one nice stranger from Canada.
I could have easily slept forever but the need to pee, the horrible heat, and my pounding headache forced me to vacate the room.

Almost an hour later we have all assembled downstairs ready to go.

Well we are there.. Ready is a relative term.


Once we were on the Happy Tours bus, we set off on the hour plus drive to Killarney. Commence sleeping….
(If you have read my previous post about our tour bus, you will need no further explanation).

Our first stop was at the Gap of Dunloe, Dún Lóich, meaning “Lóich’s stronghold”, which is a passage between the Macgillycuddy’s Reeks and Purple Mountain, along the Ring of Kerry. At the start of the walk we passed an array of carts and horses with their owners, waiting for tourists to use their services to travel down the path.
Image       Image
We walked the 20 mins up the mountain pass to the Wishing Bridge. The walk was, incredible to say the least. The weather that day was mercifully cooler than the day before and a light gray fog sat over the tops of the mountains. To me it was perfect, because my camera was getting tired of blazing sunlight and dark shadowed scenery. The even gray light touched everything so softly, details were rich and clear.


We were surprised by a few sheep grazing very close to the edges of the path!

                                Image      Image

After many group photos and detail shots, we headed back down the path to the bus. I lagged behind a lot taking more photos. I also made some horse friends at the end.


Back on the bus, our next stop was near Killarney center where we boarded our jaunty carts for a ride into the Killarney national parklands. Our group scored a cart just to ourselves and our tour guide, Troy eventually joined us as well.

                         Image     Image

The ride was very cool. We passed open fields scattered with velvety black Kerry cows, before entering thicker trees. Our jaunty carts took us to a clearing where a small castle stood.

                       Image     Image

After our horse cart ride we were taken into Killarney center for lunch. We decided to try the Failte Hotel restaurant. Lunch was really good, a step above average pub fair, despite being ambushed by several Irish men out on a stag. (Bachelor party) They were enjoying their drinks a little too much for 1pm in the afternoon, but it was a celebration so understandable.

                         Image     Image

Our next stop after lunch was to the Torc Waterfall in Killarney National Parklands. The bus parked in the dirt lot at the base of a trail and we started to walk up the trail into the trees. After walking only two minutes or so we were enveloped in forest. I immediately felt at home, it reminded me so much of the woods in New Hampshire and Vermont.

                          Image   Image
Just like that, I was 12 again, hiking along a stream up to a rocky waterfall with my family. The trees were covered in a deliciously light green moss and ferns and other plants carpeted the rocks and ground around them. It was dim within the trees, only thin strips of hazy sunlight slipped through the branch fingers; the kind of light you only see in the forest.


Being there, I finally felt like the beautiful scenery I was experiencing was real. The endless fields of green and rolling mountains thus far had been incredible, but they have seemed to good to be true; they felt more like a glamorized movie, not actual places. Killarney National Parklands was familiar to me, from the first moment. I knew this kind of nature and I fit in it. It was like a little part of my home, hidden away and intensified by Ireland’s charm.

IMG_6281       IMG_6288

I could’ve have stayed there for hours, but we were soon leaving, and I found myself alone on a path, having not realized everyone was already back on the bus. Hopefully the photographs I took with my film camera will make my tardiness worth it.                                                  

                                       IMG_6292     IMG_6293

Our final stop of the day was to the Muckross House and Gardens. Muckross house is a mansion that was built in 1843 for Henry Herbert, a Member of Parliament for Kerry. The estate and land was eventually given to the town, on the condition that it be open to the pubic to enjoy. And enjoy it we did. We didn’t tour the mansion because it was currently under renovations, but the outside of it and the land surrounding it was definitely impressive enough. We all just wandered around the gardens and down to the lake, enjoying the sun for a little while. It was all quite beautiful, and a very peaceful way to end our tour.


                                                 Image  Image


After that we journeyed the hour and a half back to Cork, where we quickly walked to the bus station to get on yet another bus to travel three hours back to Dublin. I think I can speak for all of us when I say I was really sick of sitting on buses by then. Despite the confusion and heat of Saturday, I consider the weekend to be a success and I’m very glad we went.


The Hangover meets Road Trip

Hangovers and bus tours do not go well together.

Last night you consumed an exorbitant amount of alcohol, stayed up too late, and barely slept in a boiling hot hostel room surrounded by 7 other snoring people in bunk beds. Headache, nausea, and lack of sleep. How ’bout some bright sunshine with that headache? Hot bumpy bus ride for your nausea, and long periods of walking and standing for your lack of sleep??

ImageOr so I imagine a hungover bus tour to be like. I was only hungover for about twenty minutes Sunday morning, until I consumed several pieces of magical toast.

Even if you manage to evade the hangover though, your downfall will ultimately be the lack of sleep. Outside of the bus in the sun you are able to push away the drowsiness with unbelievable scenery of constant greens and inspiring historical buildings. Our group started out slow and grumbling, but soon we gained momentum as the day passed and the beautiful sights began to multiply.

ImageWe merrily jaunted along! Skipped… Spiritedly strolled…

We dragged our bodies forward.

At least we were moving.

We were functioning. We were people.

ImageBut back on the bus we were transformed into infants; babies in the back seat of a car, being lulled to sleep by their parents driving around the block.

Our heads titled at strange angles, mouths gaped open, necks scrunched into the walls of the bus.


ImageWe were zombies. Trapped in a world of delirium, somewhere in between the sleeping and the awake.

Sometimes we would only be on the bus for a short bit of time, just traveling from one stop to the next. Yet even in those short times, we would still succumb under the weight of sleep.

ImageUsually, I am the one who stays awake on these tours. I am the silent observer of all things green; the dutiful counter of the many, many sheep and cows we pass. But on Sunday, I was no different than than the others. I too was helpless under the bus’s spell. I would jolt awake at the sudden stopping of the bus and wonder at what point I had fallen asleep, hating the growing pain in my crooked neck. The tour guide would come over the speaker with interesting facts about the surroundings and I would struggle to open my eyes and pay attention, only to loose that endeavor as well.

Image(Ok so I still counted the cows & sheep but that probably wasn’t helping me stay awake…)

Only the fresh air and urgency to keep up with fellow passengers would rustle us from our stupor. We were filled with amazement as we struggled to accept the idyllic reality that we found ourselves in. We were walking through and fully experiencing Ireland’s finest; it was a trip of a lifetime. Perfect. The tour comes to an end and we are satisfied and humbled by all we have seen. It was time to return to Dublin, to our small apartments and unpaid internships, yet the trip has given us so much to take back and to ponder on the way home.

Yet back on the warm bus you are vulnerable; as you gaze longingly at the fading scenery, reminiscing your trip, sleep attacks again! And no amount of beautiful scenery or new-found wonderment with the world will keep you from the inevitable: zombie purgatory.

Cue the snores.


(Big thanks to Pusheen ^ for helping me illustrate my story properly. )