Driving the Dingle Peninsula

Our third stop in Ireland was a tiny town on the west coast called Dingle. Our second stop in Ireland was a tiny town in the middle of the country called Kilkenny, but other than a castle, a church, and the most amazing outdoor pool I've ever been in (and one I couldn't get pictures of), there wasn't much to this town. A worthwhile stop, mind you, because it broke up the drive from Dublin to Dingle and allowed us to see the interior of the country, but not worth it's own post. 

Dingle, on the other hand, is worth it's own post, postcard, calendar, magazine, and full-size coffee table book. When you say "Ireland" and everyone else says "oh it's so pretty there!", they're talking about the Dingle Peninsula. Soaring vistas over ragged rocks. Rugged hilltops that lead to even more breathtaking views. Winding roads with more than glimpses of the sea. Bright blue skies above and crashing waves below. It was truly one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen.

We made the bold and correct decision to rent a car for our time outside of Dublin. It was not without it's hassles - insurance was not covered through any of our credit cards and therefore an extra expense, we opted to not get the 35€/day GPS but instead spent part of one morning getting a much cheaper SIM card to use in the iPad, and then there was the whole driving on the left thing - but with a deep and focused concentration (and one small fight), J and I managed to drive ourselves all over Ireland and back. He drove, I screamed instructions navigated from the iPad, and we did it all while suffering only a few minor heart attacks and one cow-induced, Irish traffic jam.

Driving in from the East, we followed the suggestion of someone at our previous hotel and rode the Conor Pass into Dingle. The roads were a bit steep and narrow (read: I thought we were going to fall into the ocean when we had to back up 20 yards to let a truck pass us), but it was worth the anxiety. We fortuitously had the clearest and brightest days during our entire time in Dingle, and the views on Connor's Pass provided a wonderful welcome to the city. 

There isn't a whole lot to do in Dingle itself, but that by no means should deter you from visiting this delightful little city. There are some excursions you can take (boat trips out to the Blasket Islands, speed boats around the harbor, and there was something about a dolphin that we never quite figured out), but we chose to slow ourselves way down and simply stroll the town and get to know Dingle via it's food and drink. That led to more chowders, my new favorite cider, and quiet nights outside our B&B simply staring at the sky and wondering how I could get New York to dim it's lights for just 10 minutes one clear night so that we could see what the heck is up there.

We stayed in Dingle for two nights, which was just the right amount of time for us, for it gave us one full day where we didn't have to make our way to a new city. Instead, got up relatively early (for us) in an attempt to beat the tour busses and Drove The Dingle Peninsula, an activity worthy of the hyperbolic capitalization I just assigned.

Since we followed the Rick Steves' Dingle Driving Tour (his caps) to a T, I won't bore you with the step-by-step. That being said, if you do ever find yourself in Dingle, I highly recommend getting a copy of Rick Steves Ireland (or just borrowing it from the library, as my unemployed self did). It's full of more interesting information than you could ever process, and shockingly detailed. His driving tours (which include Dingle, the Ring of Kerry, and a handful of others) are measured quite literally by the kilometer and allow you to have a much more informed day of sightseeing. Please note that I am in no way affiliated with Rick Steves, I'm just a giant fangirl and could talk for hours about his guide books ;)

Anyway, back to the Dingle Peninsula. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves, but the entire thing took about five hours (we stopped at nearly all the points of interest and grabbed a snack along the way as well), which left us ample time for a quick nap at the B&B before enjoying our last big, potato-filled dinner in Dingle. It's true what they say about the Irish and their love of potatoes - almost every dish I ordered came with a side of chips, and on that last night in Dingle I ordered a Seafood Pie which was basically seafood chowder over a bed of mashed potatoes that was topped with a puff pastry - and a basket of chips on the side. Not that I was mad about any of it. I just made it a priority to do a little carb-detox the second I got back to the states.

If you go: Renting a car will allow you the most freedom in following your own schedule and interests, rather than those of a tour group. Be aware that Ireland drives on the left side of the road and that the majority of available car rentals are manual - be prepared to pay a premium if you require an automatic. / We stayed at the delightful Tower View B&B, which is located an easy 10-minute walk from the center of Dingle. There is a working farm on the property and Mary, the owner of the B&B, allows kids and kids-at-heart to help feed the animals after breakfast. / You'd be hard pressed to find a bad meal in Dingle, but some of our favorites are Dick Mack's Pub and Waterside Bistro and Cafe. / I was neither sponsored nor compensated for any of my travels in Europe, all opinions are my own and given simply because I had a great time and think that you can too.

Iceland pt. 3/Driving the South Coast

As I may have mentioned a few million times before, J and I took a much needed vacation to Iceland a couple months ago. We broke the week-long trip into three different parts (read about touring the Golden Circle and hanging out in Reykjavik) and dedicated the penultimate day to driving the South Coast. I think we did a pretty good job of curating a very full yet completely doable one-day drive that included oh so many beautiful sights - find our itinerary below, and feel free to replicate it (or alter to your own needs and schedule) if you find yourself in Iceland any time soon!

Reykjavik to South Coast and Back (plus four waterfalls!) - A One Day Itinerary

*Total time: 10 hours
*Cost level: Budget - the car rental and gas are your biggest expenses. There are no road tolls or waterfall/park entrance fees, and all waterfalls have free parking lots. Pack snacks or a lunch ahead of time.
*What to bring: maps and GPS; water, snacks, sandwiches; hiking boots (or shoes you won't mind getting wet and muddy), water-proof jacket/rain coat; rain gear for your camera and other electronics

9am - Fuel up with a cozy breakfast at the Kex Hostel. $15 gets you a bottomless cup of coffee and as much bread, jam, meat, and cheese as you can eat.

10am - Hit the road in your rental car. We had rented the car the day before and kept it for the remainder of the week, so we were ready to head out once we'd paid for breakfast. If you haven't already, make a quick stop at a grocery store for some road trip provisions - things like bread, cheese, granola bars, and water bottles will be your best bet because convenience stores and restaurants are few and far between once you get out of Reykjavik. The is also the time to make sure you have a full tank of gas.  Head south on Route 1 and watch as the landscape transforms itself before your eyes.

1130am - Follow the signs for Seljalandsfoss. By this point you've been in the car for well over an hour, so it's time to stretch your legs - park the car and head towards the roaring water of the Seljalandsfoss waterfall. While at first it may seem just like every other waterfall you've seen in Iceland, the cool thing about Seljalandsfoss is that there's a path that allows you to walk behind the waterfall (do it). But be warned - you will get pretty wet. We took the path and loved the view, but for the umpteenth time that week, I was glad J had insisted I bring a water-repellant North Face jacket. My jeans were soaked but the top half of my body was warm and dry.

1145am - Walk beyond Seljalandsfoss (away from the road) and discover two secret waterfalls about 500-1000 yards away! Ok, they may not actually be secret, but they are kind of hidden and unmarked, and you will certainly feel like you're an ancient Viking explorer discovering the natural beauties on your very own.

1230pm - Get back in the car and continue south on Route 1. Feeling a little peckish? Grab a granola bar or slice yourself some bread and cheese because you've still got a ways to go.

1pm - Park the car at Skogafoss waterfall and make sure you're wearing your hiking boots. Start this excursion by wandering around the base of the waterfall and making fun of every frat-boy-thrill-seeker with a GoPro who attempt to get as close as possible without getting completely drenched.

115pm - See that reaaallyy tall staircase that looks as if it's coming out of the side of a mountain? Start climbing. Pace yourself though, because there are nearly 400 stairs - but the view from the top is incredible and oh so worth it. Catch your breath at the top and take it the splendor of Skogafoss crashing to the earth below you.

130pm - At the other end of the waterfall viewing deck is a muddy patch beneath a rickety fence and and even ricketier ladder - climb up that ladder and over that fence and find yourself in the lush land that houses the roaring waterfall beneath you. Now start walking up - there's a hint of a path that you can follow. Stop and listen to the rush of water. Delight in finding many more mini waterfalls. Make friends with a passing sheep. Watch the mist and clouds roll over the mountain tops. Find a good rock and have a seat. Contemplate all that is before you. Take some pictures, then put your camera away and see the world through your own eyes, not your camera's lens. Breath in some of the cleanest air you will probably ever breathe (no seriously - the air in Iceland consistently ranks as being some of the cleanest in the world)

230pm - Begin to make your way back down the mountain. Go back over that rickety ladder and down the 400 stairs, take one last look at the waterfall (especially now that you've seen it from the top), and get back into your car.

3pm - Continue driving south on Route 1.

330pm - Take a brief stop at the town of Vik. It's the southernmost city in Iceland and with a population of around 300 people, it's a charming little seaside village - and it has a gas station, so make sure to fill up the car for your trip back to Reykjavik.

345pm - If the weather is good, continue south on Route 1 for 15-20 minutes or so. You'll get some beautiful views of the black sand beaches and some really cool Icelandic terrain.

430pm - Turn around and head back to Reykjavik. It's about a 2 1/2 hour drive back to your hotel or flat, so grab another granola bar, turn on the radio, and enjoy the scenery.

7pm - Celebrate your day on Iceland's South Coast with dinner and a drink - we went for the full Icelandic experience and got whale steaks at Islenski Barrin, and loved every minute (and bite!)

DC in pictures

Last weekend, J and I took advantage of some beautiful weather (finally!!), an available room at an aunt & uncle's house, and two days with a whole lotta nothing on the schedule - so we hopped in the car and drove down to our nation's capital. With no major agenda, we were able to wander the mall, say hi to some animals at the zoo, try out Chipotle's Thai-flavored younger brother named Shophouse (personal opinion - it was fantastic - let's get one in New York now!!), say hi to the White House, visit with my favorite college friend over Ethiopian food, and relax in that pretty little garden behind the Smithsonian Castle. Sometimes, it's good to get away ;)

In search of whoopie pies.

I drove up to Maine over Easter weekend. Other than a few long drives on I-80 over the past few years and a wonderful 12 hours I spent wandering around Venice in late 2005, I have never gone somewhere new completely by myself. A last minute four-day holiday weekend and some really cheap rates on a Hertz car were all I needed to get me off the computer and on the road to my first attempt at solo travel.

That, and I had whoopie pies to find.

While there is some debate as to where the whoopie pie actually originated (some say Maine, some say Lancaster County, PA, and still others believe the town of Roxbury, Massachusetts gave birth to the dessert), it is a cold hard fact that the whoopie pie is the official state treat of Maine.

I got to Maine around 5ish on Saturday evening, and after a brief walk on York Beach, I settled in for a tall beer, a warm cup of clam chowder, and the aural pleasure of listening to the fantastic locals' accents at the hotel bar. I considered trying a slice of the blueberry pie that was offered on the menu, but after the beer and soup (and let's be honest: I may have eaten an entire bag of Chex-Mix on the drive up) I was stuffed.

Really, who can think of pie when you have a view like this?

Well-rested after a night of doing absolutely nothing and loving it, I set out into town to find some whoopie pie.

Unfortunately, it was April, and the town was all but completely closed.

Being a New Yorker, I tend to forget that some cities have "off-seasons" in which important things like stores and restaurants and pie shops close for the winter.

Nevertheless, I still managed to catch a glimpse of the country's first lighthouse.

After the Nubbe Lighthouse, I headed north to Ogunquit and the beaches that surrond it.

Just as in York, I found a would-be-charming-and-full-of-pie-had-it-not-been-April little town.

Now I was running out of time. It was after 1pm, and I wanted to be back in New Haven before it got dark (I'm not a big fan of driving at night...yes, I'm old.) I had just enough time to hit one more town on Route 1, but if they were sans-pie as well, I'd be out of luck. So with one last look at the beaches, I put my nose to the grindstone and focused on the pie at hand.

I realize at this point in my story, you're probably thinking "jeeze, Mary, the Internet probably could have helped you in your pie search, didn't you do any research before heading to Maine?!"

The answer is a.) you're right and b.) no, I did not.

I spend my days planning and scheduling other people's crazy lives, and I wanted 24 hours without pre-planning, without sticking to a schedule, without having to stay ten minutes ahead of everyone else.

So I threw caution to the wind and let the fates decide my future. In an existential haze, I headed to Kennebunkport. After declaring this the Fourth Most Fun Town Name To Say (#3 Keokuk.  #2 Sheboygan. #1 Cucamonga) I delighted upon this sign:

Though it looked exactly like Ms. Halpin's 2nd-grade classroom bulletin board, it contained all I needed to know. It belonged to the side wall of H.B. Provisions general store, and was indeed selling whoopie pies.

I hadn't intended to start a trend of buying pies at small-town general stores, but after the success(?) of Santa Fe's Frito Pie, I knew I had to keep on going.

The inside of the the store (like all general stores, I'm beginning to learn) wasn't great. But there were a handful of people sitting at tables and happily consuming food purchased from the store, so that was a good sign. I went over to the deli counter and was a little dismayed to see lots of fresh and expensive lobster rolls, but only a small table of pre-wrapped whoopie pies. I ordered a cup of coffee, grabbed a pie, and headed to a table.

There's not much to a whoopie pie. 2 cake-like rounds with creamy filling sandwiched inside. It's basically as if you took the bottom of a cupcake and put it on the top. Which isn't a bad idea, it's just not...quite...a pie.

Here's the thing. I started this blog because I like pie. If I liked cake, I probably would have started writing about cake. But I don't like cake. I like pie. And while the whoopie pie was well made with moist cake and fluffly filling, it just so happened to be comprised of two things I'm not very fond of. And, it was absolutely gigantic. I had about three bites and was stuffed, regardless of my affinity for the snack.

It's possible that I committed some sort of New England sin, but I threw out the rest of my whoopie pie. Had I a friend with me, we would have split it. But I did not, and I also didn't want to find out how well an unwrapped whoopie pie travelled across state lines in a rental car.


Oh well. Until the next small-town general store.