A Wholesome Adventure Along The Dingle Way

They’re not kidding about the Irish weather! Saying you can experience every season in a single day is no exaggeration. I’d wake up to a downpour, but by the time I stepped outside, I'd be greeted by blue sky and glorious sunshine. And yes, I did see a rainbow most days on my self-guided hike on the Dingle Way. A pot of gold at the end, you say? That’s just a myth...isn’t it? 

I consider myself pretty well-versed with endless fields, lined with crumbly yet somehow sturdy ancient brick walls. I get to see plenty of them in England, where I live. But Ireland's versions are something else. There’s a reason it’s called the Emerald Isle. The greenest patchwork of sheep-dotted pastures as far as the eye can see. I swear there’s some magic sprinkled in the soil that cranks up the saturation levels. But no, it’s the sporadic weather forecasts that keep things luscious and vibrant. And I’m honestly not mad about it.  

Folklore, fable and legend are deeply embedded in Irish history and heritage. From the iconic wee leprechaun to the chilling tales of the Wailing Banshee, it runs through the veins of the land. Which is part of the allure for me. I love a bit of whimsy to add extra sparkle to my adventures. But one thing I was deeply relieved to discover is not legend, is the undeniable hospitality of the Irish.  

The warm welcome was immediate. I slid into the back of the taxi, and the cheery driver welcomed me out of Kerry airport like a returning friend. We chit-chatted the whole way to the Dingle Peninsula about what brought me to this neck of the woods, but mainly about the weather (naturally!). Such a reliable subject of small talk. It was when he said, “The wind is blowing a gale today. Look, the tops of the trees are bending down to greet you.” I grinned with pure delight. This was 100% going to be a wholesome trip. 

For five days, I meandered for miles across fine, biscuit-crumb beaches flecked with perfect skipping stones. Through fields flanked by bramble bushes – the perfect mid-hike snack. And along quiet country roads lined with vivid fuchsia plants that grow among the hedgerows. Apparently, Ireland’s West coast is the perfect environment for this non-native plant to thrive – who knew?! 

Each day ended a bit soggy. Wear layers, they’re your saving grace! But there was always a cozy B&B or hotel waiting for me. I still can’t decide which was more inviting, the warm welcome from the lovely hosts or the hot showers.  

Stews, casseroles, and you got it, lots and lots of potatoes for dinners. I was in heaven. No frills, just great, honest, home-cooked food to refuel me after a long day on the trail. 

My first time experiencing ‘the craic’ was in one of the many lively pubs in the exciting town of Dingle. Bustling with locals and visitors all there for a good time and great music. What you need to understand about the craic is that it’s all meant in jest. So, when the singer of the Trad band started poking fun at my half pint of Guinness, I saw it as an initiation! Speaking of the band, they demanded attention, and like the Pied Piper, the tunes from their guitar and concertina got everyone involuntarily toe-tapping from the get-go. By the end of their set, the whole pub was singing, jigging, linking arms with strangers and dancing in circles while holding a pint in the other hand. So far, this trip had exceeded all expectations. 

My final day took me to the foot of Brandon Peak, where family-run B&B An Riasc awaited my arrival. Denise, along with the rest of the Begley family, owns and lives above this charming spot.  

Denise isn't running a hotel - she's simply opening up her home, and there's a big difference. Denise has many strings to her bow and is also a member of the Dingle Committee. She knows the land, the skies, the seasons like the back of her hand. And honestly? You can just tell.  

After a rather windswept last leg, I arrived dishevelled and ready for a warm drink. Not being her first, second or 50th rodeo, Denise knew the score and had a pot of tea and some freshly baked scones waiting for me – they were still warm! There was a bunch of wildflowers on the table - the kind of small, unprompted touch that tells you everything about a person. In between cream and jam-heaped mouthfuls I thanked Denise. I needed that more than I knew. But Denise knew. 

An Riasc sits in the heart of the West Kerry Gaeltacht - one of Ireland's last truly Irish-speaking regions, and you feel that cultural rootedness in everything. The rooms are even named in Irish: An Cnoc, An Fhaill, Na Borraí. The Hill, The Cliff, The Waves. Mine had a view of Mount Brandon, and I couldn't have invented a more fitting end to the walk. It was warm, inviting, and for a moment, I contemplated a nap, but the bed had to wait – a well-earned celebratory glass of wine was waiting.  

In the dining room, I let out a contented sigh as Denise poured a glass of crisp white. She insisted on opening a bottle and hearing all about my adventure before her son, Dara, drove me to the nearest pub, where I tucked into scallops and chips. That’s how the Irish are. Immensely kind with an unmatched generosity. Nothing’s too much trouble, and they’ll insist on going over and above, in a manner that’s firm and final. I loved it and felt right at home! 

The next morning, breakfast arrived like a final gift - free-range eggs, fresh seasonal fruit and warm homemade bread, all sourced locally. Simple, considered, and absolutely delicious. The perfect send-off. 

Staying at An Riasc was the perfect finale to my Dingle Way adventure. I left with a happy soul. One that was full of joy, had been nourished by the kindness of strangers, humbled by the unforgiving weather and the sense of pride for completing my hike.  

And that pot of gold? I found it. Turns out it was never a myth at all - a visit to the Emerald Isle is worth its weight in gold. 

Watch the Full Story

If you want to know more about Denise and her charming B&B nestled on the Dingle Peninsula, just click the video below. The story only gets cozier from here.