Day 122: Glannagilliagh - Cloghanecanuig

The night had been so quiet that even the crickets seemed to have taken a vacation. We only saw a couple of early-rising humans walking their dogs. I, on the other hand, stayed comfortable in bed until Dad decided it was time to get going. Of course, "it was time" for him means almost one in the afternoon.

After twenty minutes of curves, a bridge appeared over a river surrounded by forest. At first glance it looked like a fairytale place, but when we went inside the spell was broken. Bland trees, strange silence... even I, who always find something to sniff, didn't see much charm in it. So we kept going.

And what a test: almost an hour and a half on roads with many curves and quite narrow at first, although later they became wider and better. I was glued to the window, watching every bush that threatened to get inside. In the end we arrived at two round stone forts like giant donuts: Cahergall and Leacanabuaile. Dad parked and we went into Cahergall. That was cool. A huge circle of very high walls, like a bullring for giants. I started to go around inside as if I were in a Roman coliseum and the invisible audience was cheering me on. It was so well preserved that I even thought: "Surely the humans have done some botched restoration here, because otherwise, what a miracle".

We didn't sniff Leacanabuaile, it was closed to the public. A shame because I could already see myself exploring another maze of stones. We continued to Ballycarbery Castle. A ruin wrapped in ivy, very beautiful for postcard photos but in person it left us quite cold. I saw it and thought: "Okay, another broken castle... where's my prize for being a good explorer dog?".

Soon we found a parking lot next to a cemetery and a sports field. Dad said it was a good place to eat and I agreed, always in favor of eating. What we didn't expect was that we would both fall asleep afterwards. I dreamed of giant bones, Dad probably of cold beers. When we woke up it was already seven in the evening.

And to sleep next to the graves... mmm, no thanks. Not in a million years. So it was back on the road. We passed through Portmagee without stopping, the town looked at us with its colorful houses but we kept rolling because the day was already behind schedule.

A little further on are the Kerry Cliffs, with their sign that promises "the best view of Ireland". Very tempting but they charge an entrance fee and it was already late, so it was better to leave it for another time, maybe tomorrow.

The road then twists like a playful worm and takes us directly to the Coomanaspig Pass, which in Gaelic is called Cúm an Easpaig, the "Valley of the Bishops". I don't know if the bishops went up on all fours or on a donkey, but surely not in a camper van. The climb is steep, the road so narrow that every few meters you have to look for a gap to let the cars going down pass, and the wind blows so hard that it almost combs my ears back.

When you get to the top, the landscape opens up suddenly. It is supposed that from here you can see Valentia Island and even Dingle Bay, and today the weather is good, but we were already late and we couldn't spend too much time on it. It doesn't matter: the silence, the force of the wind and the roar of the sea down there make everything seem like an epic setting, as if a Celtic dragon was about to appear from the mist.

We decided to keep looking for shelter and found it in Cloghanecanuig, in Glen Pier. It is a concrete pier that goes into the sea. Here the wind doesn't hit us so hard and we are also in the front line to hear the waves. There is no one else, just us and the sea roaring in front of us. I settle down, close my eyes and think: "Okay, yes, today has been a good day of adventures. This is the perfect place to sleep like a king".