Equipped with a banana in one hand, my backpack in the other and my roommate (also called Ben) by my side, we set off for the airport, the time: the ungodly hour of five-am. Who invented the early-morning-budget flight? I'd like to meet him or her. I don't think it'd be a cordial encounter.
Arriving at London's northernmost airport of Stansted, Ben and I felt relief to discover we had not been the only travellers enticed by the 'massively discounted fare’ syndrome. My third return to the emerald isle, five years after the initial visit, needed to be worth the dark shadowy patches encircling my weary eyes to get the nauseating early-morning flight.
It wasn't the happiest start to our road trip through Ireland.
Arriving in Ireland
The Ryanair plane safely touched down on Irish tarmac despite the monsoonal weather restricting ground transportation at Shannon Airport. Greeted by seasonal downpours, we made a mad dash to Budget: the infinitesimal Micra, which would become home for the four-day road trip, patiently awaited.
Shortly after Ben ceased laughing, we packed our lives into the car's tiny rear, ignited the two tiny cylinders and drove out of the carpark to explore Ireland’s western frontier.
With me as navigator and Ben as driver, the road trip across the green nation should have been seamless. What could go wrong with two Bens in charge?
After an enduring twenty minutes, we were well-acquainted with the roundabout and highway by the airport.
However, it wasn’t long before the rain drops ceased dropping from sodden grey skies and the sun began spilling golden rays through the clouds. It's then that we found 'our feet' on Irish soil.
Ireland's Rugged Western Frontier
Stretching 8 kilometres along the coastline - 214 metres above the vast Atlantic Ocean, the Cliffs of Moher are a sight of fortitude. They exist at a point in which land meets ocean and their strength is tested by the incessant thrashing of Atlantic waves.
It took no imagination to understand how the bluffs have become one of Ireland’s most visited natural attractions.
Greeted by sunshine from the golden orb that moved across the fragmented sky, we moved hastily to uncover every potential vantage point. Hiking up several hundred stone steps brought us to a high point: never-ending sinuous green fields evolved into stone before dropping below into the thrashing Atlantic - a truly impressive sight.
30-minutes later, gale force winds began slapping our faces - a storm was brewing on the horizon. With a sense of impending rain, we hurried to the car and continued exploration in the Micra's warm embrace.
Limerick's Misperceived Bad Name
An hour of winding lanes later, we were in Limerick.
With a moniker of ‘stab city’, it's often avoided by travellers. My initial impressions contrasted the reputation: in the city centre, people casually walked by, darting in and out of cafes peppered along cobblestone pathways by the river.
Although only a small section of the city, neither Ben nor I felt unease or discomfort. I'd be curious to visit other parts of Limerick at diverse times of day - the sensation may be a little diverse.
Inspired by the radio tunes being blast through the Micra's little speakers, we collected two CDs of Celtic music from a record store and headed to Tralee.
The Rise of Tralee
Wearisome after a day on the road, we drove to the city's heart, destination: bed and breakfast. Before wandering about, rumbling stomachs directed us towards an Italian haunt on the High Street. With a collective appreciation of all things fodder, there were never arguments regarding food. If either posited ‘should we eat?’ the other merely agreed.
Walking through town - mildly inebriated by several glasses of red - took us to The National Folk Theatre, Blennerville Windmill, Tralee Park’s Rose Garden and the town centre. It became evident why Tralee has been dubbed one of Ireland’s most promising tourist destinations. Quintessentially Irish, particularly in design, the town in County Kerry released an energy that summoned us to stay.
Ireland is notorious for downpours, almost year-round. Fortunately, during our four-day jaunt across the country, the skies didn't shed a drop.
As Saturday morning dawned so rays of sunshine fractured through the glass of the bedroom window, magnetising us from sleep, driving us to breakfast. Complete with bacon, eggs, sausages and Ireland’s version of black pudding – the part I promptly discarded to the side of my plate, we were awash with the energy for another day of cross-country exploration.
Kerry’s Famous Ring
As Celtic tunes again blared from the Micra’s rear speakers, the downturned window let fresh air flow through my golden locks. With smiles plastered across our faces, Ben drove us towards the Ring of Kerry.
Officially beginning at Killarney, the 179-kilometre-peninsula road in Ireland’s rugged southwest is a must-visit destination. Straying slightly, we started the meander along the circular route at Killorglin. Stretching almost as far as the naked eye can see, the hypnotic coastline held us captive.
Sitting on the mountain's edge, refreshing wind from the tumbling Atlantic slapped us across our faces.
We drove steadily for hours, regularly stopping to admire the mystique and unadulterated beauty of the famous region. Purportedly home to some of the best beaches in Europe, there are plentiful opportunities to take a dip or simply whet your photography appetite by capturing the rugged beauty through an Irish lens.
Sights abound, including the likes of iron forts, stone collections, monasteries and remnants of old castles. It's here that you can even try your hand at salmon and trout fishing.
Following the lip-smacking goodness of battered local trout with crispy fries - devoured on a beach, we sluggishly returned to the car (weighed down by our respective food comas) and began moving to our next destination: Killarney.
Killarney, the End of the Ring
En route, we stopped at a renowned Victorian mansion built in the early 19th century: Muckross House. The nearby national park was beautiful, lucent green and complete with a lake.
Strolling through the mansion’s manicured gardens took us to the water's edge, the place at which we were offered a boat tour by a thick Irish accent. The gregarious Irishman took us on a 30-minute tour of the lake, showcasing beauty so rugged I almost forgot about the Cliffs of Moher.
Learning about the extreme depth of the lake encouraged me to sit as close to the middle of the boat as I could manage.
We arrived in Killarney at around 6 pm.
Vacant accommodation was scarce, almost non-existent. Walking into a pub explained why: it was grand final day of the rugby. Careful not to mess with an Irishman sitting before a televised rugby game with a pint of Guinness wrapped between his fingers, I timidly inquired about availability.
We eventually landed a room a floor above, then found a place at which to devour some hearty Guinness pie.
Cork: The ‘Real Capital of Ireland’
On the third day of the road trip, we drove to Cork, often revered as ‘the real capital of Ireland’ by Corkonians, thanks in part to its role in the Irish Civil War.
Charmed en route by winding country roads lined by stone hedges, we were in the mood for city exploration. According to rumour, Corkonians are the most talkative of all Irish folk. During a stroll across a bridge to an old quarter, I received innumerable smiles and courteous “God to you” greetings, testimony to the reputation.
Split in two by the River Lee, criss-crossing the waters becomes part of any journey on foot. Thanks to Cork’s compact size, traversing its many cosmopolitan streets - replete with artisan coffee haunts and live music venues – is easy.
For those with an appreciation for architecture, the city oozes Georgian and 17-century built-environment charm. It's another must-see of Ireland's many cities, a definite stop on a driving itinerary.
A short fifteen-minute drive from the city centre took us near Blarney Castle.
After driving in circles, we made it to the medieval fortress with an hour to spare before closing. Built over 600 years ago, visiting is stepping into Irish history. Dominating the skyline, it emits a sense of fortitude and strength.
Following a climb to the highest level, we watched tourists hanging backwards over an opening to kiss the famous Blarney Stone. By kissing it, you are apparently bequeathed the gift of eloquence, aka the gift of the gab.
It Wasn’t a Long Way to Tipperary
On the final day of our road trip through Ireland, we headed to Cashel. Dramatic icy winds nearly launched us into the air as we stepped out of the car.
The Rock of Cashel, famous for being the seat of the Kings in the 12th and 13th centuries, is now an impressive stone structure sitting on a hill overlooking surrounding valleys. The sight is impressive and is another visit-worthy feature of a driving itinerary.
Closely watching the clock, we drove to Tipperary. My mother, throughout childhood, often told me about the song ‘The Road to Tipperary’. Visiting the town was ergo a must. Aside from the song and its catchy tune, I hadn’t known what else to expect.
We walked Tipperary’s length in less than twenty minutes. I chatted to a few locals during the amble, many of whom had never heard of the song. Satisfied that I had seen the apparently famous Irish town - lacking impressive attractions, we returned to Shannon.
After saying farewell to the faithful wheels that had escorted us around the country’s south-western frontier, we made haste for the airport. We waved a heavy-hearted goodbye to the land of eternal green as the London-bound Ryanair plane departed Irish soil.
A Road Trip through Ireland?
If you are contemplating a visit to Ireland, then I'd encourage you to consider hiring a car and driving through the emerald isle. The flexibility to see off-the-beaten-path destinations will be much easier with your own wheels. You can also be the master of your own itinerary and move as quickly or as slowly as you please. Ireland is beautiful and visiting the tiny island nation is wholly satisfying.
