Between mid-May to late June 2024, I will be walking along the SW coast of Ireland, taking in the Kerry Way, the Dingle Way, the North Kerry Way, and parts of the Burren Way in Clare and the Western Way in Galway. This is the story of part of that journey.
A big thank you to everyone who has bought me a coffee over the past year. The Buy Me a Coffee service allows patrons like you to fund writers like me, to cover things like the costs of running this blog, new shoes and gear, and journeys like this. If that sounds like a worthy idea to you, then go ahead – keep buying me coffees.
Where Am I?
In Tralee, taking a break before starting the second half of my journey.

I got here by walking about 500 km over 3 weeks, starting in Killarney, and walking –
- more or less the whole 220+ km of the Kerry Way
- with a detour between Waterville and Cahersiveen to take in the Cliffs of Kerry, Portmagee, and Valentia Island
- plus a road walk between Killarney and Camp on the Dingle Peninsula to get onto the Dingle Way
- and then the 200 km or so of the Dingle Way which finishes in Tralee
- from which I finished my first half with a 26 km section of the North Kerry Way up to Ballyheigue
There’s much to tell about those sections, probably in some future posts. In the meantime, here are a few stories and pics from my journey so far.
Stories and Pictures Along The Way
I’ve noticed in some of the towns I’ve been in that some of the pubs have gone all out to come up with creative Guinness art. Here are a few of the ones I saw just wandering here in Tralee.



*****
The beaches in Ireland are an under-appreciated attraction. The Dingle Way in particular includes about 20 km of beach walking. Unfortunately for me, about 15 km of those came on a day when the wind was lashing and the rain was off and on, always hard in my face. Attempting to wear a rain poncho in those conditions was futile, so I was soaked and chilled by the end of the day.

And yet the scenery, the pounding surf, the salt spray tang in my nostrils – it was exhilarating. Exhausting too.
*****
It was around mid-day, after leaving Kenmare. I was up on a hillside following a dirt lane, and turned a corner near an old farmhouse. The scent of a turf fire wafted faintly, and instantly my mind jumped 300 km northwards – memories of sitting round the kitchen at the Doherty family farm outside Donegal town, next to a warm turf stove, trying to decipher Charles’ story through his Irish accent, drinking tea and laughing, laughing.
*****
And speaking of accents, I was walking down a wee road, and as I was going down a man was coming up, on the same side of the road as me. We approached, and he didn’t move, so I stepped aside as he said “Good morning, and how do you do?” in such a musical faith-and-begorrah south Kerry accent that I almost burst out laughing.
I nodded politely instead, and continued on, and only later realized that I had been on the left side of the road, and he was correctly walking on the right, hence our collision course. His polite question was his way of inquiring as to whether I was the addled foreigner that I appeared to be, and a reminder to me that in Ireland one walks on the right side of the road to face oncoming traffic.
*****
Trail food for me has been a combination of ready made things picked up in shops, mostly sandwiches, as well as things I can heat up with minimal cooking. Instant rice mixed with tinned fish is a staple. It isn’t the most flavoursome meal but it fills you up and is relatively healthy.

But when in a town, I’ll eat at local cafes and pubs. Favourite meals so far have included the fish and chips at the South Pole Inn in Anascaul, the pizza at Tango Street Food in Killarney, and the grilled local fish that I had at Pisces Restaurant in Castlegregory.

And of course, it’s Ireland, I wouldn’t be exploring if I didn’t sample the pubs along the way. I do like a pint of Guinness, so that’s been my beverage of choice when in a pub.

Probably my favourite pub and pint was at O’Connor’s Bar in Cloghane – it had been a rainy blustery day, and was still a rainy evening, cold to boot, and I was tired and cranky.
I walked into a properly old-fashioned place, cobwebby wooden beams overhead and dusty flagstones on the floor, with a bar propped up by regulars and the requisite loud American, a turf fire smoldering away.
That pint was delicious. I spent 2 hours eavesdropping on the conversations going on all around me
“that bloke is creepy, look at him leering”
“who’s that?” – referring to a movie playing on a telly in the corner – “Sean Connery”; “who’s Sean Connery?”
“What if we buy a round for everyone in the bar and put it on the musicians tab”
and listening to a young guy playing the piano and singing songs like Raglan Road. There was the Celtic magic I’d been searching for. Sláinte.
*****
And it wouldn’t be Ireland without tea. One of the toughest parts of the Kerry Way for me was the section between Glencar and the Black Valley. This had two steep climbs in it, and by the time I had huffed and puffed up the second one, I was gasping and hungry.
So I paused at the top, got out my cooking gear, and made myself a cup of tea – cure’s everything, as Ann’s gran used to say.

*****
In walking the Kerry Way , and then the Dingle Way, I covered two of the three most popular walking trails in Ireland (the other being the Wicklow Way). Even though it’s still early in the tourist season, there were many other walkers with whom I crossed paths.

They come from all over, though I would say that the majority of hikers that I’ve met so far have been from Germany, with Americans a close second. Other accents and languages I’ve overheard include French, Spanish, Icelandic, Irish, English, Australian, Canadian, and Italian.
It’s an international community, and very different from my experience walking in Canada, on the Bruce Trail, the Island Walk, and my Nova Scotia journey last year. The national waymarked trails of Ireland are a treasure, and I’m deeply jealous – I would love it if Canada had such a system of trails dedicated to walkers.

*****
When I reached Camp, after walking in the wind and rain for several hours, I was delighted to find a snug little place called Anne’s Cafe. I went in, grateful to be warm and dry, and ordered a pot of tea and a bite.
I was just sitting down when a young family came in and asked if they could share the table. They had two youngsters, about 5 and 3 years old.
We got chatting, and I explained a bit about the walk I’m on, and they talked about walking the Camino Frances a few years ago.
We were comparing experiences, and I said that one of the things that I had told myself on my previous long walk in Nova Scotia was that I should try to find at least one moment every day when I felt at peace, a place of total calmness.

It occurred to me as I was explaining it, that I hadn’t been consciously doing that on this trip. I had had my Zen moments, but I hadn’t had to say to myself “ok, focus, this is your Zen moment “. I realized that I had simply felt it – absorbed the calm in the moment – without having to prompt myself.
I guess that’s growth. Old dogs and new tricks and all that.

Where to Next?
From Tralee, I’ve changed my route a bit. I think I want to head as directly towards Doolin as I can so that I can spend a bit more time on the Aran Islands, and then in Connemara.
Weather and circumstances may change that, of course, but my time is pretty flexible. As long as I make it to Galway in time to catch a train to Dublin so that I can rejoin Ann, I’m fine. Let’s see where I go.

Like what you read? Buy me a coffee. Your donation helps offset the costs of maintaining this blog.















































