It was the first day of spring last Monday so the winter of 2006 is now finally over. Officially, at least. A faint flush of new green hovers over the gardens around our lake despite gargantuan swathes of white on the meteorologist’s morning maps. ‘Only flurries’ are threatened in our corner of New York State, although poor old New England looks set for another dousing. In Ireland, however, all bodes well, thanks to the benign influence of the warming Gulf Stream. Which is good because that’s were I’m off with my wife, Anne, in a couple of weeks to start our “Seasons In…” lives on the Beara Peninsula. And just where is that? comes the cry. This is also good because we’re looking, as usual, for the hidden, the authentic, the secret side of the country, and most people have never heard of the place. The irony is that it’s actually very close to one of Ireland’s top touristy hot-spots—Killarney’s Ring of Kerry, the largest of the five peninsulas that jab out like buckled witches’ fingers into the Atlantic in the southwest corner of the ‘Emerald Isle.’ The northernmost is The Dingle, until recently a relatively undiscovered place but today, far less so. In fact the expression ‘to be Dingled’ now suggests discovery by ubiquitous tourist coaches and the subsequent plethora of ‘quaint’ tearooms, new ‘old’ fashioned pubs, and picnic spots in once elusive and pristine ocean-viewing niches. The second, far larger peninsula of The Ring of Kerry is gloriously scenic but gaudily vampish in its touristy trappings. Out of season the place is passably-peaceful—but then you’re also likely to need hefty waterproof gear and a distinctly masochistic nature. The Beara—third peninsula down—combines the best of all worlds. At the eastern inland edge there’s Kenmare and Glengarriff, both appealing towns though a little touristy self-conscious. But turn sharp west, soar up over the great wild mountain passes on narrow hairpinning roads (far too narrow and dangerous for coaches!) and then down again to the benign charms of Castletownbere, Allihies, Eyeries and other color-washed coastal hamlets—and you enter another world. Not quite a ‘lost world’ as described in other of my books but certainly overlooked and understated. An ‘authentic’ place where Gaelic is still spoken, where pubs are primarily for the locals, and where lifeways still reflect the era before the ‘Celtic Tiger’ of economic expansion transformed ‘Southern Ireland’ (Eire) into today’s miracle of materialistic abundance. So—this will be our base for the spring in a small cottage overlooking the fishing boats in Castletownbere harbor. And what will happen there I have absolutely no idea. Because that’s the point of the Season In series—to allow serendipity and the sensuality of days without time to succor and shape our experiences and ultimately the book itself. It will be a gentle adventure of exploration and empathy. The stories we will uncover are still hidden, the characters unknown, and all the little dramas of daily life are yet to be revealed. And those of course are the little magics and mysteries of true travel—those inner and outer discoveries—which Colette celebrated so enticingly:
I’m happy to keep the same old face but I’m curious to see what happens to our hearts…in The Beara. Wish us luck, and join us on our travels…. David Yeadon March 23, 2006 |
