Coast Road from Kinsale to Tramore

You can’t beat Irish hospitality. The décor may not be the most up to date here, but everything you need in bathroom is provided: soap, towels and … a rubber duck!

I know there are a lot of crows in Ireland, but I never saw so many as I did when we were driving along the road from Timoleague towards the Old Head of Kinsale. Hundreds upon hundreds of them, gathering on the telegraph wires along the estuary of the River Arigideen, a glorious red sunset in the background. It was like a scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’. Spooky, but spectacular.

Much as I wouldn’t have minded joining the crows, the Oldies carried on to Kinsale. An ancient walled town and fishing port, it has become a popular tourist destination nowadays. It also claims to be the culinary capital of Ireland. After the long drive though, the Oldies weren’t in the mood for anything fancy, opting instead for good old-fashioned fish and chips. I couldn’t have asked for anything better. Simple and delicious. In fact, simply delicious!

Kinsale is in an idyllic location on the estuary of the River Bandon and in a natural sheltered harbour. On a grey, grey January day, it probably didn’t quite look its best, though. But between the yachts in the marina and the brightly painted shops and houses, there is certainly no lack of colour around here. In fact, the colours are so strong you’d be advised to wear sunglasses, regardless of the weather!

I found ‘Seagull House’ at last! It wasn’t quite as salubrious as the Pigeon House in Poolbeg in Dublin, of course, but at least it’s not as pretentious as this tiny cottage with its big name.

It looks like the local authorities don’t want to run any risk of misunderstanding of road signage on Kinsale’s narrow streets. This is a ‘no left turn’, to be sure, to be sure.

After our wonderful couple of days in Cobh, we travelled further along the coast into County Waterford, making a pit stop at Dungarvan Bay. There was a mystic ambience in the morning grey, with the sea at low ebb and the occasional cry of a curlew. Sadly, the curlew is an ever rarer sight in Ireland these days with their numbers dropping drastically. There was no shortage of gulls and oyster catchers of course, and I did manage to spot a couple of curlews all the same.

The Oldies had mentioned that we were close to a Gaeltacht (Irish speaking) area, but I hadn’t expected to hear Irish spoken here in town. So it was a nice surprise to hear one of the locals chatting away in Irish to his grandson as they played together at the waterfront. Her Ladyship was amused when the tiny little mite, barely two years old, pointed at an egret and shouted excitedly ‘Éinín bán! éinín bán!’ (‘Little white bird, little white bird!’). Speaking  as an éinín bán myself, I have to agree with Herself that it is wonderful to see Irish being passed on as a native language to the younger generation.

I think I remember hearing about a Gold Coast, but I hadn’t come across a Copper Coast before. Perhaps this is the budget version? But I can tell you that the views along the Copper Coast Road are solid gold! The reason for the name was soon clear when we reached the ruins of the copper mines dating from the 19^th century at Tankardstown. I don’t suppose that mines are generally known for their beauty, but this one is at least located in a beauty spot. I can just imagine the miners of old emerging from the dark shaft and being greeted by this dazzling vista of cliffs, sea stacks and the vast expanse of the bay.

The last stop on our coastal tour was in Tramore. Now there’s a town that lives up to its name, Trá Mhór simply meaning ‘Big Beach’. At 5 km long, it is most certainly a big beach. One of the most popular seaside resorts in the ‘Sunny South East’, Tramore comes with the obligatory amusement arcades, ice cream kiosks, fairgrounds and campsites. But those are just the side show. The main attraction is that vast, beautiful strand.

Here’s something I’d never seen before – a chap practicing a bit of trotting on the strand. Well, he certainly had plenty of space! Nor was I surprised to learn that the beach was used as a location for horse racing for over 120 years – until Tramore Racecourse was opened back in 1912. I hear that surfing is all the rage here nowadays. Along with windsurfing, kite surfing, stand up paddle boarding, …

I’m exhausted just thinking about all these seaside activities. I think I’ll just go back to my favourite sport. Staring out to sea.