Wednesday, May 9th, 2018
Day 5: Cnoc Na dTobar Pilgrim Path No 2 (5.02 miles)
Not a good start to the day; it was pouring rain, but the forecast said it would change from 99% rain at 10 am to 35% by 4 pm… so let’s see.
My first destination was Portmagee, over the Coomanaspig Pass, on the Skellig Ring. The ascent and descent are ‘adventurous,’ with wonderful panoramic views from the top over Valentia Island to Dingle. The pass is one of the highest places in Ireland to be reached by car or bike, according to guides, ‘if you are brave enough. It is a steep mountain pass that isn’t for the faint of heart.’ Right, hold my beer …
‘Coom an Easpag‘ means Valley of the Bishops. Legend has it that a woman who lived there gave birth to 7 babies, but decided that she did not want them. Her husband carried the babies in a bag to drown them at a nearby cliff when a neighbour stopped him. He first said they were puppies, but the neighbour soon found out they were babies. He convinced the husband to return home and take care of the babies. He did, and they grew up to become 7 Bishops.
It was a hair-raising drive, and I was glad to stop at Kerry Cliffs afterwards. But visibility was very poor, and it was lashing with rain and blowing a gale, so I wasn’t hopeful of a view. Kerry Cliffs is a mini version of Lands’ End (Cornwall), but with security, cameras everywhere—no one is sneaking onto those cliffs without paying €4.
Such a shame; I know people have to earn a living, but those cliffs have been there for aeons and will be there long after the landowners have gone. Despite nearly being blown off my feet, the views were spectacular.
Portmagee was a pretty village, but obviously no sailing to the Skelligs today. I drove a quick lap around Valentia Island and was going to have a peek at Kilbeg Mountain (actually a hill), but they wanted €4 for that too. So I headed off for Cnoc Na dTobar, not knowing what to expect. My guide made it seem easy enough, and the pictures didn’t look too bad…
It was still raining when I arrived at the mountain. Looking to my left, it didn’t look too bad, then I realised it was the razor-sharp, brooding ridge to my right. I couldn’t even see the top to judge how safe it would be.”
Off went the little catastrophic voice in my head: ‘There’s no way you can climb that in this weather, death and more death, etc.’ My other sensible voice agreed! But then there was bargaining: ‘Well, maybe if you get your gear on and start out, you can turn around again if it’s too bad.’
The path up looked straightforward enough; I could see the trailhead. So, I donned every bit of kit that I had—SealSkinz socks, gaiters, waterproof trousers, my Patagonia jacket, and my Paramo—and set off. I’d been on the mountain for 10 minutes, and the rain stopped. The magic of the Camino is here in Ireland too…
The ground was overflowing with rainwater, the paths like rivers… just like Cornwall. Steadily, I made my way up the path marked by 14 white crosses (stations).
Not too arduous, the path gently wound its way up. By the 5th marker, the cloud was lifting, the view below stunning. I stopped briefly, didn’t trust the weather, and didn’t linger. By the 8th station, I was stripping off my layers. At the 11th, I decided to press on to the summit. I didn’t need to go any further, as this was the Pilgrim Passport Destination Point.
I’d made good time, and the weather was still clear. I couldn’t come this far and not summit… I reached the Canons Cross at 1:30 pm but only stayed long enough to appreciate the spectacular panorama. There was no point pushing my luck with the unpredictable weather.
The many bays and inlets, Valentia, Dursey Island, and the Skelligs were out there somewhere. And on a good day, you can see the outline of Carrauntoohil, Ireland’s highest peak at 1040 m, amid the MacGillycuddy’s Reeks… perhaps on a clearer day.
A strong, cold wind blew up, which froze my face and hands; it was time to go. But getting up was the easy part; there was no quick way down, not with the ground so wet. Slipping in the black mud, I suffered a minor scrape to my fingers. So I took the safest route down, walking through the heather and sphagnum moss. At least if I slipped again, it would be a soft landing.
It was a relief to reach the lower slopes at 3:00 pm; the warm sunshine was so soothing that I paused, sat, and basked for a while. Then I headed for the Old Barracks, in nearby Cahersiveen, to collect my Pilgrim stamp. There I met the lovely Joan at reception, who was so excited about my achievement that she gave me a hug. I felt a little emotional; it was lovely to have someone share my moment with me. Aww, I love you, Joan.
My day was not over yet. I had a sumptuous seafood chowder with delicious soda bread at Café Siveen. A quick wander up the high street, then back onto the WAW, Dingle-bound.
En route, I stopped at Ballycarbery Castle, sadly on private land and not accessible, but beautiful all the same.
Next, I headed to Cahergal Stone Fort, a rather formidable and fascinating structure. Arriving in the car park, I was greeted cheerfully by an Irishman, ‘dya wanna hold my lamb’… whaaaat, I thought? Sure enough, he had a lamb in the back of his van… as you do. He thrust the lamb into my arms, and we chatted briefly before I handed it back.
He stopped me again on my return and asked me what I thought of the fort. We got chatting about walking. He used to run marathons. ‘You are a fit girl,’ he said, poking me in the arm. I could tell by the glint in his eye that he didn’t mean my ability to climb a mountain. His name was Jack… he put out his hand to shake mine and yanked me in for a hug… time to go, I think…
As I left, he was accosting two other ladies with his ever-patient lamb; he even winked and blew kisses at me as I drove away. I think Jack was a bit of a lad…
It was about a 2-hour drive to Dingle, through the ‘Mountain Stage, Rossbeigh Strand and Inch Strand‘. It was lovely country, not as dramatic and rugged as yesterday- moorland mountains, such a contrast. The beast purred into Dingle around 7:30 pm, and I had a quick look around the town. A nice guy in a gift shop helped arrange a taxi for tomorrow’s walk, Cosán na Naomh from Ventry to Baile Breac.
I bought a lucky shamrock from him, then settled in the van for the night. The local car park allowed overnight parking, brilliant.
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