The Dingle Peninsula

As the clouds cleared and we drove down into the valley that would take us to our next stop in solitude our driver-guide, Big Joe, pointed off into the distance.

“And you see that valley there. That’s Anascaul Lake. Anascaul Lake,” repeating it for emphasis like he did with every place-name and point of interest. “It’s about a forty-five minute walk from the town.”

“Can you drive us there?” asked one of the girls, I forget which. “No.” “Why not?” “It’s not on the itinerary.” We laughed. Any other bunch of people would probably have been really annoyed by his staunch lack of flexibility, but after one night together we were already seasoned in making out own fun.   The suggestion to go was quickly agreed upon. As soon as we had dragged our bags inside and made a quick run to the grocer we set off on foot towards the lake. It rained, of course, like cats and dogs, but spirits were high to the point of jubilant when we saw a double rainbow! One of the token two guys on the tour decided to run the entire way while the rest of us ambled along chatting. There was a lot of silliness and bonding and we trudged back to our accommodation, rather damp, just before dark.   Our night on the peninsula was quiet and reflective in comparison to the party until dawn that Galway had been. We watched TV, played games and felt like we’d known each other for years.

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One thought on “The Dingle Peninsula

  1. Pingback: Conquering Dingle during the Tourism High Season | Rachel in Ireland

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