THE DINGLE PENINSULA - PART I AUGUST 20, 2015

When we read in the itinerary that we would be visiting Foynes, it may as well have been Nowheresville, since none of us had heard of it. If it wasn’t in Rick Steves’ guidebook, did it even exist? Why would Gate1 think we wanted to go there? And what in the world was a Flying Boat?

All of these questions percolated in the backs of our minds as, toting our carry-ons and daypacks, we went down to breakfast in the Dunraven Arms in plenty of time to be ready for the 8:30 departure for the Dingle Peninsula.

By this fourth morning together, some individual breakfast routines that had evolved suffered a sudden shift. Not Jennifer’s, of course. She never varied from her bowl of dry cereal and a bit of fresh fruit. I usually had some fruit, especially the fresh pineapple that we all were delighted to find in Ireland, and then some kind of eggs and Irish bacon or a sausage – a complete departure from my usual Spartan fare. In addition, I had given up my usual coffee for strong, Irish tea, just like everyone else. Sheila always started with a bowl of fruit mixed into the beautiful natural yogurt that was always on the buffet, followed invariably by one slice of fried tomato, one slice of black pudding, and one fried egg. Anne usually went for fruit and some kind of egg, as well, but on this morning, she mixed it up completely, returning from the buffet with a plateful of fragrant curry-colored rice mixed with squares of white fish and dotted with green peas. “Kedgeree!” she announced. “Real, authentic kedgeree!”  Blank look from me. Sheila, however, popped up and returned with a portion of the same. New to this dish, I listened as Anne invited me to taste it and explained something called the British Raj in India, a term that was new to me, even though the history was not. I will quote here from Wikipedia: It is widely believed that the dish was brought to the United Kingdom by returning British colonials who had enjoyed it in India and introduced it to the UK as a breakfast dish in Victorian times, part of the then fashionable Anglo-Indian cuisine.^[2] It is one of many breakfast dishes that, in the days before refrigeration, converted yesterday's leftovers into hearty and appealing breakfast dishes, of which bubble and squeak is probably the best known.

After a taste, I adopted the attitude that I teach to my young students when they encounter something unfamiliar and not entirely pleasant: two fingers on the chin, head cocked to one side, and the comment, “Hmmm. Interesting.” Tasty, but not for breakfast. In my opinion.

We set out early for the Dingle Peninsula, all the way to the Atlantic Ocean, stopping at Dingle Bay, on Inch Beach.

Sheila ‘had a paddle’ in the sea. 

I had a mission on this beach, which I quickly set about fulfilling. My teaching/writing friend, children’s author Shelley Moore Thomas, has a new middle grade book out which is set right here on the Dingle Peninsula in a beach community based on this one, titled SECRETS OF SELKIE BAY. It’s an engaging magical/reality tale set in modern times about a young girl whose mother mysteriously disappears after showing her three daughters a secret island off the coast where the selkies – those magical seal people –live. With great forethought, I had packed the book cover so I could take a picture of it surrounded by seaweed and sand on this beach, but due to my increasing absentmindedness, I realized with dismay that I had not brought it with me on this particular day.  Anne came to my rescue with her iPad, and I was able to improvise. 

 

Surfers in their wetsuits dotted the waves, while newbies learned the basics at a surf school. 

A magical mist kissed the tops of the mountains.

We met a delightful member of the surf community, a friendly Newfie, who sat at the end of the table with us, waiting hopefully for scraps from our snacks.