A little mizzle first thing, the first of the wet stuff we’ve had since arriving 10 days ago. That rather spooky the view of the Kerry mountains, so we decided to head off for Dingle, as it as the last day of their food festival, so a good opportunity.
Along the way we couldn’t resist a stop at Inch beach, the other half of the sand spit that stretches out into Dingle Bay. See the report from 2 days ago for the other part. We had a bracing walk along the flat sands, whilst a horse rider took their ride out for a swim. It was right up to its neck, much it seemed to its annoyance and times, but then you try swimming with someone sitting on your back.
Into Dingle, and the car parks were rammed, so we did a little lap of the town to find some roadside parking. We headed in, and soon found streets lined with food stalls, many selling locally produced produce such as veg and meat, others little sweet delicacies, and the usual assortment of imported blandness, like donuts, which always seem to have the longest queues.
We did some sampling, but it was all much of a muchness, so we headed into a cafe and had chowder and a side of chips. That hit the spot.
I don’t think I’ve seen quite so many pubs/bars in one place. No village or town is complete round here without a choice of two at least, it seems. But Dingle must be blessed with a hundred! Not that we chose to partake, knowing we had to drive on to find a spot for the night.
