Oh Killarney you're a hard place to reach but the journey you make is one to be remembered forever.
So this post is a bit of an anachronism as, by the time we too this pass in the mountains, it was our second time.
You see, there was this fork in the road and when Lady Ireland has you in her guiles of Ocean, mountain, pretty village, rollling hills and glacial valleys its easy for your navigator, called Adrian, to take his eye off the map and send you four miles up a mountain pass.
Anyway, we found ourselves up this mountain, and discoverd a little car park where you could pull in to enjoy the view, so we did. Adrian opened his door to get out and I then opened mine. That 'through draft' (and the word draft nowhere near does justice to the gale that ripped through the car) looked around for some mischief and in its search found a piece of paper in the driver door pocket to lift, waft high into the air and off into the valley. It soared high, high up and far, far out, so far that it made us feel sick to think of being that high with nothing but the wind as support. The small piece of paper soared and batted around on the wind and settled way balow us. Infact it settled so far down that it disappeared in amongst the other white pin-pricks that turned out to be sheep, about a mile down. that really made us feel sick!
To this day, neither of us know what that paper was, but it is out there, somehere in the valley.
These pictures REALLY don't do it any justice!!
Eventually, after a trip back to Dingle, we made out way to Killarney and stayed at a lovley little B&B, The Cherry Tree Guest House, for our last night before the flight home.