Irish Reflections.

The Emerald Isle is certainly quite green, but no different weather-wise, from South Devon and home. Lovers of quiet, out of the way places, us two pensioners found many friendly faces amongst the locals, and plenty of visitors doing the rounds of scenic hotspots. Some of the roads we ventured along are not to be recomended to those of a nervous disposition. Including one I would not dare attempt a second time. It's the single trackway heading across the high pass from the Sailor Bar, Kenmare and R571; not named or numbered or sign posted, but serving just the rural sparce community. Our low-slung Morgan chassis had its underside brushed by the buttercups, grass and daisies growing down the centerline of this narrow, little used country lane.

Although our hosts and all the locals showed great friendliness, there are overtly hostile signals from the troubled  recent past  that tell of bitterness towards the English. Like an omission to fly the Union-Jack alongside those of our close neighbouring countries. The prominent displays of heroic leaders that were hanged by us at the Easter Uprising, during the first world war, whose faces and eulogies appear in many a shop window, street corner or community centre.

Dramatic

Crystal clear Atlantic waters 

Good fishing to be had in these waters.

Divers fish hereabouts

Looking towards the Ring of Kerry 

The suspension of our Morgan two seater was treated to two liberal applications of the grease gun during our tour