The Not Skellig Day

Our trip to the Skellig Islands did not begin well.

Russ has been telling me about the Skellig Islands for years. When we decided to come to Ireland, I knew it was high on my list of things to see while we were there. For the past 3 or four days, Russ has been checking the weather, trying to figure out what day in our 3 day window we should book the trip. Finally, he decided Tuesday, September 11 was our best shot. The day began well enough, with a half Irish breakfast (1 egg, 1 slice of bacon, 1 sausage, hash browns, half a potato waffle, half a tomato, toast, yogurt, orange juice, and tea, and that was the half breakfast!), but while we were eating, Mary, the proprietress of the Calafont B & B, got a call. We could tell it wasn't good news and sure enough, the boats were staying in port that day. Now in our line of work this is a common occurrence so we were prepared to deal with it. However, Russ knew that the forecast was slightly worse for the next day so he immediately began worrying that we wouldn't be able to go out the next day either. We decided to fill the day with a variety of sights nearby, including the "most spectacular cliffs in County Kerry" just down the road. They turned out to be a classic tourist trap, pay a certain sum per person to be granted access to the path to the cliffs. However, true to their billing, the cliffs were indeed spectacular, hundreds of Northern Fulmar circling and landing on ledges, a Kestrel hunting on the ridges, and a 200 ft sheer drop off.

The most spectacular cliffs in Kerry

Just as I began snapping photos, I heard my phone ringing. I didn't answer it in time, couldn't tell where the number was from, and couldn't dial it back. I checked voicemail, and no message was left so we shrugged and continued on. It nagged at us though, so Russ went back down the hill to use the wifi included in our admission to check email and see if there was something urgent. I was still snapping pictures when suddenly I noticed a boat on its way out to the Skelligs. Wait, weren't all the boats cancelled? Now I'm certain the phone call had something to do with it, so I ran down the hill, collected Russ and we rushed back to the B&B to see if Mary had tried to call us. Oh yes, she did try calling us but it was an American number that didn't belong to us so she didn't leave a message. Ah, I realize she got my voicemail greeting, which is actually Russ doing a bad Scottish accent, and she was clearly confused by it. Turns out the boat did decide to go (what!?) and she tried to let us know. By this time the phone call was about 20 minutes ago so I'm thinking, the boat might not have left yet, it would take a little while to round everyone up right? Mary calls the boat and they are already halfway to the island. What!?? That means they basically left as soon as they called. Now we are seriously miffed. Who cancels a boat and hour and a half before its supposed to leave and then decides to go and only gives 5 minute warning? I'm confused, I feel like we missed something. Mary says sometimes people will wait around after a boat has been cancelled and hope it might go later. What!??? Why on earth didn't you mention there was a possibility the boat might still go? We rushed down to the pier to see if any other boats were going and two of them were but they had no space. The frustration is building. There seems to be nothing more we can do so we proceed with our alternate plan. Our first activity was hiking up to the signal tower on nearby Valentia Island.

Signal tower on Valentia Island

The weather was nice, but the fact that we could now see two boats headed out to the Skelligs without us only made Russ more irritated. At the signal tower, we started following a trail that was labeled as a loop trail. The "trail" soon became a bog, and the frequent groaning I could hear behind me lead me to believe this was not improving Russ' mood. But the scenery was fantastic so I was realtivly happy, snapping away with my camera.

View from the "loop" trail

After we had been slogging for a while, the trail started to veer away and we became doubtful the loop was taking us back to our car. We decide to cut our losses, backtrack a little and cut across a field. But by this time we are in the middle of a pasture with plenty of cows and our backtracking took us right through the middle of a group. I have to say it was a little unnerving looking up at a very large black bull that did not seem the least bit (pardon me) cowed by our presence.

As we were leaving the trail to cut across country, we saw another couple coming down the trail towards us. Russ tried to warn them that the trail didn't lead back to the cars but either they didn't hear, or didn't understand. Finally, we make it back to the road leading to the parking lot. As we approach, we see the couple from the trail also approaching from another direction. Apparently the loop was a loop afterall.

After we changed our shoes and socks, we headed out again to check it the rest of Valentia Island and some ancient ruins. Just down the road, a farmer flagged us down. He ran up to the widow and said "wsien sskdn edmf sndjf semi wait here awhile" (????) Russ apparently understood that he wanted us to block the road as he moved his cows. So we wait. Meanwhile, a van drove up behind us, and barely slowing, swerved around us and continued. After about 5 minutes, no cows appeared and I begin to wonder if Russ really understood. So I get out and peer down the lane where the farmer disappeared. Finally, I see him driving some cows toward the road. When he sees me, he starts gesticulating wildly and yelling unintelligibly. I think he's trying to tell me to get out of the way so I back up towards the car. I can resist snapping a few pictures as the cows start to come out on the road. Predictably, the cows turn away from the car, and start strolling down the road, rather than just crossing the road as they were meant to.

No cows, no! Wrong way!

The farmer follows, a disappointed look on his face. "Why didn't you go on the other side like I told you?" Right, of course that is what the gesticulating meant. I apologize for not understanding, clearly this is my fault. More unintelligible instructions to Russ follow and we set off down the road to round up the cows. Apparently we are not doing the job right, because suddenly the farmer zooms up behind us, swerves around us, and drives the cows into an empty field. He asks Russ to wait again, and since we feel responsible for screwing up the first time, we stay, blocking the road. But that means cars can't get by, so Russ is forced to move up to clear the way. I get out of the car again, determined to get it right. As the cows approach to road again, the farmer is gesticulating again but this time I can hear him yelling, "get back, get back!" Oh, right, my bright blue jacket is scaring the cows. So I take a step back, the cows appear, turn away from me, and trot down to road towards home. A gruff thank you, and we're relived from duty. Our brief stint as cow hearders is sadly over.



The rest of the day was filled with relatively normal sightseeing. The usual stuff, 1000 year old forts, 500 year old castles. Just another day in Ireland.

1000 year old, partially reconstructed, stone fort (and a leprechaun)

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