Killarney, the Coach Capital of Kerry

With our motorhome’s hot water playing up, we did what we always do when we have an issue, we head for a campsite. We chose Flesk Camping (N52.042935, W9.499688) in Killarney. It’s possibly the most expensive one in the town, but it’s right next to the Killarney National Park. We arrived and while I stood at the closed door to reception, trying to remember the country code for Ireland so I could phone to get us checked in, the campsite warden arrived.

He set about explaining where everything was, barely taking a breath. “There’s a Chinese restaurant next door, but it’s closed, it has been for years, don’t be expecting it to open tonight, or anytime soon, so you won’t be having Chinese, but there’s a Spar shop a hundred meters further along, so if you need milk or anything you just have to walk a hundred meters…” and so it went on. In the end my head was awash with information including why so many places in Ireland begin with Kill, it’s because it means church.

As the warden showed us to our pitch I asked him what his name was. “Pa” came the reply, but I wasn’t sure I heard it right, “Pat?” I questioned, “no it’s Pa, like Pat it’s short for Patrick, but if you shortened it any further it would be P”. Included in Pa’s information was a recommendation for a pub to go to in the town with live music on every night. So far ‘The Craic’ had eluded us, mainly because we’re back in the van and ready for bed by the time it all kicks off. So, despite the long walk this morning up the Gap of Dunloe, we decided we’d get out and go see some music.

With huge excitement, we emptied our collection of rubbish and recycling into the campsite bins. To get over it all, I had an afternoon nap, while Jay wrote his blog post and fixed our hot water system (although he’s not sure how, but it’s working and that’s all the matters).

The road to the town centre had a cycle and footpath on one side of it, in addition to a pavement. We haven’t seen many pavements lately, ending up walking along the side of roads most of the time, dodging traffic. It was nice to feel safe once more as it was quite a busy road. The length of the road was lined with hotels and B&Bs, so this is where everyone ‘doing the Ring of Kerry’ by coach is staying! No wonder our Lonely Planet guidebook described the place as a ‘well-oiled tourist machine’.

Arriving in the busy town centre, we were surrounded by various languages being spoken and many accents from across the Americas. I’m think we would have struggled to find a local person. Unless we approached someone working in one of the many pubs, restaurants or souvenir shops or chatted to one of several buskers. Finding our recommended pub, we slipped in the door just after 9pm. A sign on the window said music started at 9ish, and the duo were just setting up. We grabbed the only seats left in what we thought was a snug, but turned out to be a phone booth. I guess back in the day, this pub would also have been a shop and offered services like a phone for customers too.

Once again we’re not sure there was a local anywhere on our side of the bar who wasn’t behind a microphone. We thought Pa had done well to fill this place, but it turns out it’s also recommended in the Lonely Planet guidebook for Ireland. We had a great night listening to the music and banter, but we’re still not sure if it was ‘The Craic’. Maybe you need a group of mates with you for it to happen, or maybe it needs to be impromptu for it to feel right? After all, is organized Craic the real thing?

The following morning I had a goal to achieve. I am training for the Derby Half Marathon which takes place at the start of June and I’ve been struggling to find places to do my weekly ‘long runs’. The Killarney National park was calling, and the bike hire shop next to the campsite had a huge map on the wall showing a cycle path around a couple of the lakes. I headed off around 8.30am on a ‘sightseeing run’, I don’t worry about the pace and stop to take photos if I see anything interesting, or to look at a map if I am a bit lost (which seems to happen more when I get tired).

As I ran towards the entrance to the park I could see coaches parked up outside each of the hotels, getting ready to recieve their passengers for the day. The route around Muckross Lake was great and I only saw three people for the first hour and a half. I got the ruined Muckross Abbey all to myself, but after reading about its violent past on the information board, I really had to put on my ‘big girl pants’ to venture into the cloisters as it was very dark in there. I’m glad I did though as the courtyard contains a huge yew tree which is said to be as old as the abbey itself.

After going around the lake, I came back towards the tourist attractions. It was now getting on for 10am and the coachloads were starting to arrive. I dodged groups as I made my way up to Torc Waterfall, then ran alongside a jaunting car (horse drawn cart) and chatted with its jarvey (driver) until we reached a small hill and she used horsepower to leave me for dust. I had a lovely jog around the colourful gardens of Muckross House, before making my way back to the campsite – my 19 kilometres done.

While I was doing this Jay had headed out for a run, taking in some of the more challenging trails around the area. A series of rock steps stretched on for ages and took him up to a viewpoint overlooking the lake I was running around. Having seen his photos of what he was running up and down, I’m glad I stuck to the tarmac cycle path.

By the time we both got back the sun was out, so we got the camping chairs out and sat in the sun. We think it might be the first time we’ve used them this trip, as we haven’t been staying on campsites much or when we have it’s been a bit too windy. After long warm (I’m not going to say hot because they weren’t) showers at the campsite and a bite to eat, we set off for a walk to Ross Castle on the edge of Lough Leane, the lake of learning.

Our route took us along another cycle path, this time the wall on one side of it had been painted with local wildlife. We suspect it may have been a ‘Tidy Towns’ initiative as Killarney has won several awards in the nationwide competition. I’ve no idea if it’s the Tidy Towns annual competition is the reason that everywhere looking so clean and well kept, or is it just a sense of community and pride in your hometown. Either way, it is very rare to see rubbish or graffiti anywhere we’ve been and I’d like to think it’s that way across the whole country.

Arrving at Ross Castle we sat by the edge of the lake to watch the convoy of boats bringing orange life-jacket clad cargo back to the waiting coaches in the car park. A look at the sheer number of boats moored in one of the side rivers tells me that we’re nowhere near peak season here.

Right now at the end of May, the weather is good and there are enough people to give the place a bit of life. But you don’t have to queue for anything and you can get usually get around without having to step off the pavement to get around people. In the summer it must be a lot harder and I’m not sure I’d like it. I got chatting to a couple from Tipperary who said “If Ireland had guaranteed good weather, it would sink under the weight of American tourists”. I can kind of see what they mean.

On our walk back from the Castle we spotted red squirrels and deer (sorry too slow for photos) from the single-track tarmac path. We think it may have been made for the Jaunting Cars to get from the town centre to the castle without going on the main roads and was built on boggy land. Every time a Jaunting Car trotted past the road and groud around us bounced up and down like a mini earthquake.

Back in the town we had planned to visit Killarney House and Gardens (which is where they run their local Parkrun each Saturday), but the walk to the castle had been much longer than planned and we were too tired to see anything else.

We made our way back to the campsite and collapsed in the camping chairs. As we sat there we realised what a state the chairs were in, faded, fraying, specs of mould where they’ve been put away wet and a hole in the headrest of one from a mouse nibble a couple of winters ago. I think when we get home we need to do some serious investing in Zagan and his kit so he’s ready for the summer.

We both slept like logs last night and this morning it was time to get back on the road. We gave Zagan a good clean out inside, got rid of any rubbish we could (we don’t know when we’ll next see a bin) and setting off on a mission for LPG, diesel and a shop before hitting the Dingle Peninsula.

Ju x