{"id":586,"date":"2017-09-20T21:16:52","date_gmt":"2017-09-21T01:16:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/treadsoftlytravel.com\/?p=586"},"modified":"2017-09-21T19:53:47","modified_gmt":"2017-09-21T23:53:47","slug":"around-ring-kerry-cahersiveen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/treadsoftlytravel.com\/index.php\/2017\/09\/20\/around-ring-kerry-cahersiveen\/","title":{"rendered":"Around the Ring of Kerry, to Cahersiveen"},"content":{"rendered":"

May 31st, 2016 (Part II)<\/h4>\n

The Ring of Kerry\"Killorglin,<\/a><\/h4>\n

After my lovely lunch in Killarney<\/a>,\u00a0I catch the 279 bus west to Cahersiveen\u00a0(Alternative spelling: Cahirciveen<\/a>).\u00a0 <\/span>The ride is about an hour and 20 minutes along The Ring of Kerry (An F\u00e1inne Chiarra\u00ed or An Mh\u00f3r Chuaird<\/a>\u00a0roughly translated as\u00a0‘The Great Circuit’).\u00a0 <\/span>The bus passes over the bridge at Killorglin.\u00a0 <\/span>Sweet cottages line the roadsides outside of Glenbeigh. Idyllic homesteads can be seen overlooking the waterfront outside of Coolnaharragill.<\/p>\n

<\/h4>\n

\"Near<\/a>The Wild Atlantic Way<\/h4>\n

It becomes evident, that we are now traversing the Wild Atlantic Way! There isn\u2019t a cloud in the sky as far as the eye can see, and Dingle Peninsula can be seeing clearly across the water. We drive past the roadside lookout, just outside of Mountain Stage and Drom and wind the bend towards Kells Bay, Cappamore. The N70 continues southwestward across the Iveragh Peninsula, alongside Cnoc na dTobar (Knocknadobar, Mountain of the Wells) to Cahersiveen<\/a>.<\/p>\n

<\/h4>\n

\"Ring<\/a> \"\"<\/a> \"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Cathair Saidhbh\u00edn \u00a0“Little Sadhbh’s stone ringfort”<\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/a>The bus drops me off at the Cahersiveen fairgrounds, just off the main road.\u00a0This quaint town is an excellent place from which to launch day trips and outdoor excursions. It’s packed with heritage, architectural and natural beauty.\u00a0<\/span>My hostel, The Sive<\/a>, is across the street. I am greeted by the matronly hostess Mary and she shows me\u00a0my dorm room, which I have all to myself this evening. Even though it is already late afternoon, the sun doesn\u2019t set until 10pm, so I have lots of time to explore the town. I drop my bags off and grab my camera for a walk along the waterfront.\u00a0 <\/span>A sweet bird is basking on the warm pavement of Bridge Street.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The Old Barracks<\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/a>I follow the street to The Old Barracks.\u00a0 First b<\/span>uilt in the early 1870s, the building housed the Royal Irish constabulary.\u00a0 <\/span>The building’s imposing stance and police presence therein provided protection to the Irish end of the Transatlantic Telephone Cable (1858). With local uprisings and conflicts (including the first shots fired during the\u00a0Fenian Uprising of 1867<\/a>), authorities feared the newly connected link to the New World could be severed. The building was destroyed by fires and rebuilt in 1991. I wander around to the back of the building. The Barracks Museum is just closing for the evening and I chat with the man running the place. He tells me a bit about the town, the story of meeting his Canadian wife and suggests I come back to see the museum tomorrow. He jokingly mentions that if I\u2019m able to bring some Timbits (small, infamous, Canadian doughnuts) I can get in for free.\u00a0<\/span>Apparently Ireland\u2019s doughnut selection is incredibly lacklustre compared to Canadian fare.<\/p>\n

Cnoc na dTobar<\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/a>I ask the man at the Museum\u00a0about hiking in the area and he points out the mountain across the bridge.\u00a0 <\/span>He explains that there is a pilgrimage hiking trail to the Celtic cross at the top.\u00a0 <\/span>The pilgrim path\u00a0up Cnoc na dTobar has been in use since Medieval times. It is a site of devotion to St Fursey (c 597-650AD). I debate trying to climb the peak, but it just won\u2019t fit into my packed schedule this time around. I\u2019ve got other plans.<\/p>\n

Cahersiveen Waterfront<\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/a>I head off along the waterfront, enjoying the views, across the River Fertha,\u00a0of places I will be visiting in the days to come, including Ballycarberry Castle. I pass a school with a yellow tower and a small subdivision of tidy waterfront homes. The waterfront path comes to an end at a mucky beach just past the marina. Sheep graze nearby, aside the ruins of an old stone house or barn.<\/p>\n

<\/h4>\n

The Old Abbey of the Holy Cross<\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I head away from the water, and up a curved street into the town.\u00a0 <\/span>As I near The Old Abbey of the Holy Cross<\/a>, I hear children laughing and playing in the ruins. I decide to explore the old walls and grave markers as well. There is no steeple on the Abbey, due to strict laws of the Penal Times. Roman Catholic worship was severely restricted during 1695 and 1829 by the Protestant ruling class.\u00a0 <\/span>One of the penal laws prohibited any Catholic Church to have a steeple or bell.\u00a0 <\/span>The early evening sunbeams glisten off the old brick. Daniel O\u2019Connell\u2019s parents are buried on these grounds. The remains of Lt. Philip Primrose can also be found here, housed in this small stone crypt.\u00a0 <\/span>He died at age 31, when his boat capsized in the Cahersiveen harbour.<\/p>\n

The Holy Well<\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/a>Not too far from the Abbey, I discover an alcove between two house off Main street, with a sign reading Tobar na Croiche Naofa, The Well of the Holy Cross.\u00a0 <\/span>From the early Medieval times, water has been seen as a sacred element with certain wells having curative powers. Although many wells have pre-Christian history, they have since been dedicated to local Saints and rituals are performed involving token offerings, making rounds and making the sign of the cross as well as\u00a0drinking the water to cure many ailments. The Tobar na Croiche Naofa is a natural spring, while other wells are simply hollows cut in rock where water naturally pools. A \u2018modern\u2019 pump also stands in front of the well. Rounds and patterns (religious rituals) still occasionally occur at this well, by those on pilgrimage.<\/p>\n

Daniel O\u2019Connell<\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/a>I pop in Willie\u2019s Off Licence<\/a>, \u00a0a shop selling an impressive collection of craft beer and other alcoholic bevvies. I always try and find the local brew, and I get one from Killarney named after the Scarlet Pimpernel<\/a>, who is buried in the graveyard right across the street at the Daniel O\u2019Connell Memorial Church. Not a saint or deity, Daniel O\u2019Connell was a statesman, passionate in human rights, who worked to emancipate Catholicism by way of mass movement of people in the 17th and 18th centuries.\u00a0 <\/span>He\u2019s the only layman to have a church named and built for him! The church received special papal permission to do so. Daniel was a source of inspiration for human rights advocates around the world, including Frederick Douglas, Martin Luther King and even Mahatma Ghandi. Two floors of the Barracks Museum commemorate the\u00a0life of Daniel O\u2019Connell!<\/p>\n

The Scarlet Pimpernel<\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/a>Back to the Scarlet Pimpernel: Born and buried in Cahersiveen, Monsignor Hugh O\u2019Flaherty<\/a> ran a network to help Jews and Allied Pilots escape Nazi persecution during World War II.\u00a0<\/span>Aiding approximately 4000 people and narrowly escaping capture himself, he obtained notoriety and a helluva nickname, The Scarlet Pimpernel of the Vatican.\u00a0<\/span>The film The Scarlet and the Black<\/a> tells his story.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s time for dinner and finally being on the West Coast, I want to have some fish and chips. I stop in Kevy\u2019s Fast Food Take Away, as I was\u00a0told that if I mention that I am staying at the hostel, I will get a small discount.<\/p>\n

Dinner with a View<\/h4>\n

Back at the hostel, I sit on the balcony patio and enjoy my deep fried meal and wash it down with the\u00a0delicious Kerry brew.\u00a0 <\/span>It\u2019s a beautiful place to enjoy my evening meal, as the sun sets over the River Fertha, Valentia Bay and the Atlantic beyond.\u00a0I admire the stone house in the backyard, a private accommodation of the hostel.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I chat with a fellow hosteller, a Dutch woman on holiday.\u00a0 <\/span>She is walking the Kerry Way, while her husband is on vacation somewhere on a warm beach.\u00a0 <\/span>She craves adventure for her holidays and can\u2019t imagine just laying about for 2 weeks straight, so she\u00a0and her husband\u00a0amicably take separate vacations.\u00a0 <\/span>I admire her journey: hiking 10 hours a day with a heavy pack across some of the most gorgeous countryside and challenging terrain. Perhaps one day I will make that trek.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Tomorrow is a little different, we are both rising early to get a lift from a boat captain to the harbour at Portmagee. We will be hitting the ocean waves and travelling to the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Skellig Michael! It took months of planning to get here. I am so excited, stay tuned for the next blogpost!<\/p>\n

In the meantime, enjoy this folksong about the Cahersiveen Fenians who fought for Irish Independence. Click the title to hear the song, or just read the poetry and view more images from my evening below.<\/p>\n

Fenians of Cahirciveen<\/i><\/span><\/a><\/p>\n

I am a bold Fenian from Cahirciveen
\nThat late took my gun for to fight for the green
\nO\u2019er mountains and woodlands, I wandered along
\nNow I\u2019ll leave it alone and commence up my song
\nWe marched to Kells station that lies near the strand
\nWhere the sea rushes in with wild waves to the land
\nAnd then you may say we had courage golore
\nWhen Kells station was taken by the boys of Filemore<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

We were proud of our country and our heroes so brave
\nAnd we spurned the false counsel that\u2019s given by the slave
\nWho would sell his own country for comfort and gold
\nWho would spy on his brothers, the Fenians so bold
\nBut the warm hand of friendship forever is seen
\nIn the soldiers of Ireland who fight for the green
\nWho scorn for the tyrant, their heads to bend low
\nWho strike dumb with terror, the false Saxon foe<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

We spurned all their jails and their turnkeys as well
\nAs to turncoat informers, we\u2019d sure give them hell
\nFor we feared neither jail, nor the scaffold on high
\nAnd we\u2019d sworn for ould Ireland, to conquer or die
\nAs to buckshot and powder, we\u2019d plenty in store
\nAnd in deep, secret places, munitions golore
\nThere were no men more feared by the troops of the Queen
\nThan the bould hearted Fenians of Cahirciveen<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

We were loved by young women, both buxom and strong
\nIn their red-flannel petticoats singing a song
\nIn their shawls and their bodices neatly arrayed
\nWith their beautiful forms so correctly displayed
\nWho would stir any man to great exploits of fame
\nTo win for ould Ireland, a true honoured name
\nTo fight for their honour before any Queen
\nLike the true-hearted Fenians of Cahirciveen<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

We marched all along and our guns we did load
\nWe then met a policeman, on horse-back he rode
\nWe asked him to surrender but the answer was \u201cNo\u201d
\nAnd a ball from young Conway soon levelled him low
\nAway we marched on and our guns did reload
\nWe met Father Meegan and for him low we bowed
\nHe gave us his blessing saying \u201cGod be your friend
\nIn the battle of Freedom on which you are bent\u201d<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

Come shoulder your arms, come march and obey
\nBut alas, we were beaten all on the next day
\nOur plans were found out by some dirty old spy
\nAnd on Captain Moriarty, they did cast an eye
\nMoriarty came in on the mail car next day
\nTo lead all our brave boys to join in the fray
\nTo our greatest surprise, he was marched into jail
\nWhich left us in sorrow our loss to bewail<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2019Gainst their grape shot and cannon we fought to the last
\n\u2019Spite their bayonets and red coats we stuck to our mast
\nTho\u2019 the peelers may march with their battering ram
\nFor their batons and law, sure we don\u2019t give a damn
\nAnd their bailiffs may come, hedged around by cold steel
\nBut one charge from our boys would make traitor heads reel
\nFor the cleanest of fighters that ever were seen
\nWere the true-hearted Fenians of Cahirciveen<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

Then it\u2019s off thro\u2019 the mountains we all took our course
\nOur stomachs being slack and we had but bad clothes
\nWe were in a number about sixty strong
\nSurrounded by red coats for something went wrong
\nThen hurrah for the Fenians of Cahirciveen
\nNo bolder nor braver in Erin was seen
\nNo soldiers more true to the banner of green
\nThan the true-hearted Fenians of Cahirciveen<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

http:\/\/www.countysongs.ie\/song\/fenians-of-cahirciveen<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n