For dear old Killarney, tonight I am sighing
In silence I wonder far over the sea
To the green fields and dells and the lakes of Killarney
Back to the old home where I used to be – Dierdre Connoly
Woolly says – We had woken early, very early, Jo’s fault as she was up and about at six to try and complete yesterdays blog after a very late arrival to the digs last night. Having dropped the kettle and woken myself and Zoe up it seemed pointless to try and continue to sleep so whilst we entertained ourselves Jo tapped away. It did however mean that we were in the car at eight thirty heading for the first stop of the day. As we headed through some lovely country lanes, I told the humans about the place that we were in.
Killarney, (meaning ‘church of sloes’) is a town in County Kerry, on the northeastern shore of Lough Leane, part of Killarney National Park. Its natural heritage, history and location on the Ring of Kerry makes Killarney a popular tourist destination.
Killarney featured prominently in early Irish history, with religious settlements playing an important part of its recorded history. Its first significantly historical settlement was the monastery on nearby Innisfallen Island founded in 640 by St. Finian the Leper, which was occupied for approximately 850 years. It operated until the monks were dispossessed in 1594 by Elizabeth I. Following the Anglo-Norman invasion of Ireland in 1169, the Normans built Parkavonear Castle, which was intended as an early warning outpost due to its views of the entire Killarney valley and lakes region. Killarney’s tourism history goes back at least to the mid 18th century, when Thomas, fourth Viscount Kenmare (Lord Kenmare), began to attract visitors and new residents to the town.
The ten minute car journey took us directly to Torc Waterfalls. Torc Waterfall is a 20 metres (66 ft) high, 110 metres (360 ft) long cascade waterfall formed by the Owengarriff River as it drains from the Devil’s Punchbowl corrie lake at Mangerton Mountain. The waterfall lies at the base of Torc Mountain, with its name translating as “wild boar”. The area is associated with legends involving wild boars. One legend is of a man who was cursed by the Devil to spend each night transformed into a wild boar, but when his secret was revealed by a local farmer, he burst into flames and disappeared into the nearby Devils Punchbowl on Mangerton Mountain from which the Owengarriff River emerged to hide the entrance to his cave beneath the Torc Waterfall. It did seem that Satan had provided quite a lot of tourism to Ireland given his dealing with the Rock of Cashel as well.
Leaving the car, we wandered along the gurgling waters edge admiring the beautiful trees, ferns and mosses that were in abundance. Within five minutes we were at the base of the gushing waterfall which looked amazing as the water poured through the rocks and crevices providing a feeling of coldness in the air.
Very happy with our first find, we set off to the next port of call a whole eight minutes away.
Muckross House was built in the 1840s by the Herbert family, who were connected to Queen Victoria by marriage and spent over a decade trying to persuade her to visit, in the course of which they nearly bankrupted themselves improving the house and gardens. The house was sold on twice before its final private owners, the barrister Arthur Rose Vincent and his parents-in-law, presented the 11,000-acre estate to the Irish state in 1932 as the Bourn Vincent Memorial Park, forming the country’s first national park, later expanded by further donations including Killarney House.
With barely any cars on the carpark it felt that we were keeping well in front of the tourist rush so ambled into the onsite café for a tasty breakfast of crumbly croissants which hit the mark extremely well. With tummies full we headed outside into the gardens which were beautiful, full of box hedges and topiarised trees as well as flowers still in full bloom.
Huge Pampas grass sat with mountain views behind and with a small robin giving us a cheep in the warming sun it felt like a very good day.
We walked through to the house itself managing to pay for our tickets just a coach load of tourists arrived, I sped towards the house entrance and through the door to gain some time and allow Jo to get the best chance of photographing as possible.
We entered the Gun room which had a lot of heads on the wall including some gorgeous looking goats I struggled to give them eye contact as it seemed so unfair that they had ended up there, the house however had been a huge draw for visiting hunters in Victorian times.
Passing through the hall we encountered more heads and some lovely carved dressers displaying a lovely range of crockery and ceramics being finished off with a wonderful crystal chandelier that had been made in Waterford home of crystal.
Into the dining we went with its massive sideboard which was covered in silver serving dishes the sideboard had been carved in Italy featuring the bear as the Herbert family crest.
Next door was the library with one wall filled with oak bookcases and 19th century Killarney furniture set off by a lovely sage green. I could hear footsteps heading towards us and urged the women on before the next room became full.
The drawing room had wonderful lake and mountain views with a decorative plaster ceiling, just above the piano was a wonderful blue glass mirror which looked vibrant against the more muted tones of the walls.
Near to the fireplace were some pole screens which would have been raised or lowered to a lady’s requirements to keep her make up from melting from the heat of the fire, I’d not come across them before and I wondered how effective they had been. As we were leaving the room Zoe told us that the portrait by the door of Catherine Countess of Desmond is said to have died at the age of 140 after falling from a cherry tree, this fact stopped me in my tracks as I tried to image Jo being able to climb a cherry tree at her age, maybe someone had shoved Catherine into the tree but I’ve never seen someone over a hundred capable of climbing one, walking at that age is an achievement!
The Billard room was dominated by its large playing table as you would expect, the hand painted wallpaper though was beautiful, sadly the tourists had caught us up, so I hurried the humans up and scooted out.
We climbed up the wooden spiral staircase passing an English crystal window before arriving in the Master’s dressing room with its small bath and commode.
Next door was his bedroom with its rather small bed draped with lovely curtains and a display cabinet housing his tie pins and pocket watch.
We then found ourselves in a huge bathroom with seemed quite sparse containing the usual facilities.
Next was the children’s room filled with toys and places for the child to work and play all at child sizes.
Having walked down a flight of stairs I found another ornate toilet which is always a bonus.
Entering the Queens suite we found a boudoir with a large harp which dated back to the 1830’s.
The half tester bed in the next room looked ready to get into.
Heading down the servants’ stairs we found a massive pile of ceramic jugs and bowls and plenty of chamber pots to go round.
The servant’s hall was very big and would easily have fitted quite a lot of the workforce, some lovely fire buckets stood ready to be used as did a wonderful conical fire extinguisher.
Further along the corridor was the wine cellar which a few empties but little wine.
While across the corridor was a well equipped boot room filled with boots and shoes waiting to the be returned to their owners.
The scullery boasted a wonderful aga with plenty of ovens and prep areas with a small corridor leading off it that displayed a range of sporting equipment and gas lamps.
Arriving in the main kitchen a lovely white tiles fire surround held another aga with cupboards full of baking equipment and pans.
The last room was the laundry which was massive and contained a very large boiler for the hot water along with a whole host of sinks and an extensive area for ironing, the staff working in there must have been incredibly busy.
Having completed the house, we ambled thorough the rook garden climbing the uneven steps as well as featuring some lovely plants.
We had arrived back at the car having enjoyed our visit tremendously. Programming the sat nav we had 8km to go to our next port of call.
Having arrived and parked up we crossed over a bridge where the water was filled with boats that people could hire to head onto the lake and visit the island that had once housed monks.
Ross Castle was built on the lake shore in the late 15th century by local ruling clan the O’Donoghues Mor (Ross). Ownership of the castle changed hands during the Desmond Rebellions of the 1580s to the Mac Carty Mor. The castle, since refurbished, remains on the shore of Lough Lean. The latest refurbishment had been in 1993, so it was looking very new in its light grey colouring.
Once just a tower had stood on the grounds, but barracks had been added centuries later, all of these buildings had been left to fall into ruin until a huge renovation project was completed.
We hadn’t planned on going inside but with an entrance fee of just 3 euros it seemed silly not to, until we realised that it was by guided tour only and that the next one wasn’t for an hour, we decided to leave it and happily contented ourselves with a wander round the outside whilst admiring the views across the loch.
Happy with our day we headed towards the nights’ accommodation planning a stop off at Crag Caves, who doesn’t love a cave.
Well, it turns out that we weren’t that impressed which was a shame. Having been handed an audio guide we entered the cave heading down the seventy five steps to start the tour. I know that we are lucky in the number of places we have been to that have had caves on offer and this one whilst good wasn’t great with fairly small offerings in the stalagmite and stalactite line.
We spotted a few things that the audio guide told us about including a possible tray of glasses and a parsnip and carrot. Sadly, the lighting didn’t work as it should which meant it turned off after only moments leaving us to find our way to the next part in the dark. Jo did her best to capture some shots, at only 350 meters long it didn’t take long and wasn’t worth the money paid to do it, it was however nice and cold under ground so would have been tremendous during this summer’s heatwave.
With our day complete we headed off to a small village for our evenings stay with plenty of plans for the following day.