The rain cleared out overnight, and I awoke to a beautiful partly cloudy day. I slept in, mostly because my body couldn’t figure out that we needed to awake. Feeling lazy, I dragged myself out of bed, admonishing myself that I couldn’t sleep the day away because there were things to see and do.
First up, I needed coffee. I stopped at my favorite spot in town, the Bean in Dingle. While no one knows what half and half is here in Ireland, they do know what a cappuccino is and how to make a good one. I grabbed one and a black pudding and pork roll, and headed out the door to find a less crowded spot to consume my fair. I didn’t have to go far… just right across the street to the park bench outside the church. As I snacked, I thought about what I wanted to do for the day. I had mentioned to the baristas that I was considering climbing up to Eask Tower, and they enthusiastically agreed, giving me advice on how long the climb was and what I could potentially see up there.
With a plan in mind, I headed back over to parking lot where I had left the car, and decided to stop into The Grove Cafe to grab a sandwich for lunch. The lady behind the counter suggested the lemon chicken and walnut salad as an alternative to their normal sandwiches, and I had her make me a wrap. I knew I’d be eating after the hike, so was glad the day was a bit chilly so that it wouldn’t spoil the sandwich.
I arrived at Eask Tower about 12:30 pm, parked in the small lot, and walked over to the gate. The path up takes you through a local sheep farm, and the owner (Tom) collects €2 to help maintain the site, a small fee for amazing views. Tom greeted me and suggested that I take a picture of the sign explaining the history of the tower. He explained how the tower was the original GPS system, pointing the way into Dingle Bay for ships coming in from the Atlantic. He then explained how to get up to the tower, the system with the gates (there to keep the sheep in their places), and impressing upon me not only the views from the top being the draw, but also the views across the bay to Dingle town. “And then,” he said, “when because you will be walking through the sheep muck, there is a hose, buckets, and brush across the road to clean your shoes before you go.”
I thanked Tom and headed up the path, stopping every so often to take in the view of the bay. The sun came in and out of the clouds, making the farm shine and the town light up. People weren’t wrong, the view was breathtaking. I watched the sheep lazily graze in the field, and wondered once more if I could live in such a small town. I continued towards the top, knowing that my time was limited, wanting to be able to spend as much time up there as I could.
The climb up, while not extremely steep, is definitely strenuous if you aren’t used to hill climbing. But the climb isn’t always straight up, rather it comes to a point where you begin to take switchbacks up, breaking the incline into manageable chunks. Even still, I was a bit winded as I crested the top, simply because I was moving faster than normal.
As I neared the top, I noticed that not only was the tower there, but a dilapidated building as well. Camera in hand, I began snapping pictures, hoping my creative eye translated to what the camera picked up. But the real beauty was the view out over the Atlantic ocean and across to the Skelligs. Though cloudy, I could just make out the land masses across the way, and I realized why people took the hike up on clear days. In pure sunshine, they must be absolutely breathtaking, being clearly visible from so far away.
A few minutes later, a couple ladies arrived, and they began taking pictures themselves, one video chatting with someone to show them the view. I wished I had signal up there, since I would have done the same, but I figured I had lots of pictures to show off the views as well. I spent a few more minutes there, checking my watch for the time, then headed back down. I knew I’d need at least 5 minutes to clean my shoes before I headed off to my next appointment, and I made it down in 20 minutes, versus the 40 it took me to go up.
As I came back to the gate, Tom greeted me, and I headed to the hose and brushes, chatting with him about the views and life. His pup greeted me as well, and I made a new friend as he leaned against my leg for scritches. Tom chuckled and said that he’d stay there all day letting me pet him. I was sad to have to leave, since Tom was a nice gentleman and eagerly engaged in idle chit chat. But, there was whiskey to be tasted, so I wished Tom a good day, and headed out to my next destination: the Dingle Whiskey Distillery.
The Dingle Whiskey Distillery is known as the oldest Irish Artisan Gin Maker. Started in 2012 by Oliver Hughes, Liam LaHart, and Peter Mosley, they began distilling whiskey, gin, and vodka. Because whiskey takes so long to mature, the gin and vodka were made to tide them over financially. And what a plan that was! It proved a theory I had heard in a podcast by Blindboy; he essentially said the same thing, but said he had no real proof of that, only his thoughts.
I had signed up to take the 2 pm tour, and it was well worth the €15. We were seated in the tasting room by Paddy, who then gave us the run down of the history of the distillery and talked about the gin and vodka. For our first taste, he said, we had a choice of gin or vodka. The gin is based on a London recipe and tweaked with a botanical enfusion of:
- Rowan Berry
- Juniper
- Fuschia
- Bog Myrtle
- Heather
- Chervil
- Hawthorn
- Angelica
- Coriander
They make approximately 1,000 bottles of gin and whiskey each week, and for every 1 bottle of vodka they sell, they sell 4 bottles of gin!
Paddy talked so much about the gin, that when he stopped for a breather and to start pouring, no one wanted to be bothered with the vodka, instead wanting to try the gin. Even non-gin drinkers like myself were emphatically asking for the gin. So, Paddy obliged, pouring the gin over an orange slice into snifters.
All of us at my table decided that we had to try it straight before diluting it with tonic or ginger ale. I’m so glad that I did, because the gin on its own is so smooth and flavorful, that I could envision sipping it straight while spending an evening in front of a fire with good company. But to understand how the flavor would change diluted, I poured in some ginger ale. It didn’t diminish the flavor, which made me happy.
I’ve never had a gin that I wanted to buy, but I knew from the first sip that I would be buying some before heading home. Paddy let us know that it is sold in the duty free shop in Shannon, and I was glad that I’d be arriving at the airport early.
After the tasting, we then went out to tour the distillery while Paddy explained the process of distilling whiskey. The copper stiles fill the warehouse, each having their own job in the process. The interesting part was learning how manual a process it still is, but the results speak for themselves.
After the talk, we went back into the tasting room to have a taste of the single malt whiskey. As he poured new glasses, he talked about cask strengths, and how they dilute the whiskey with water down to 46.5%, which is the standard for Irish whiskey. Full cask strength is the reserve, and very few bottles are made of it. Not only is it expensive, but they found that their customers preferred the lower percentage.
To fund the endeavor, Oliver, Liam, and Peter decided to sell the cask barrels for €600 a piece, raising €3 million to supplement what they were putting in. What it meant is the distillery has no debt to worry about, simply running the place and making it profitable. Additionally, all the people who bought casks were not only buying the barrels, but the whiskey to fill them. They are now starting to fill those casks. When asked what a cask yield is, we were told it’s about 200 bottles at full strength. That’s a lot of whiskey!
The whiskey is smooth, so easy to drink I can imagine going through a bottle easily. But at €80 a bottle, I’d be hard pressed to share it with anyone. 🤣
Unfortunately, the bottle is not sold in duty free, since they are just getting to the point of exporting it to other countries. They currently export to the US, but in small quantities and in specific locations. Paddy asked us to contact their New York connection, Mary, to let her know where we are and where there is a market for the whiskey so they can make plans to work on those areas. I plan on emailing her once I’m back, because I’d drink their whiskey over any of the other Irish whiskeys I’ve had. Even Jameson.
With the tour complete, I was glad to have gotten the sandwich from the cafe. I sat in my car and ate to stave off the alcohol effect. As I sat listening to music, I decided my next move would be to go back to the house and relax for a little bit before heading out once more.
For dinner I decided I needed to check out Reel Dingle Fish and see if it lived up to the hype. Given that Dingle is right on the sea and gets fresh fish every day, I wanted to know if their fish and chips were the best around.
I stepped into the small shop, sizing up the place. It reminded me of the fast food Chinese restaurants back home in Philly, where you could walk in, order, and walk out again. Limited seating, the 3 stools at a side bar were taken by several patrons. For €9.50 I ordered the cod and chips, noting the order taker had a very Californian surfer look, though betrayed by his Irish brogue. He had brown dreadlocks, interspersed by blue, pink, and purple, with a sun freckled face and hazel eyes, giving the feeling that he would have been at home anywhere there was a beach.
The thing about Reel is that they serve up to 8 different types of fish and chips. Cod, hake, haddock, mackerel, ray, plaice, calamari (squid) and monkfish are in regular rotation, as long as it’s caught that day. They fry everything up fresh as they’re ordered, so your fish and chips are never sitting under a heat lamp. They also offer a 1/3 lb beef burger made of West Kerry beef. But my thought is, why go to a fish and chips place for a burger?
I waited patiently for my food, watching as other customers came in and ordered or picked up their food. Finally, my order was up, and rather than try to go find some place in the rain to eat, I asked the young ladies at the bar if I could share with them. They gladly agreed, moving their jackets off of the bar and out of the way.
As I ate, I chatted with the young ladies and another young couple down at the end of the bar. They were all on vacation from the states, the young ladies from Chicago, IL, the young couple from Chicopee, MA. I suggested that they check out Neligans after they finished eating, since they were looking for a pub after.
The young guy lamented about how he found Dingle to be a bit boring, saying they lacked good music, and commenting that he could never live in such a small town. I chuckled at that, knowing just how small and lacking in entertainment Chicopee can be. But, everyone is different, and what one likes, the other may despise.
Another customer came in, debating what they would try, and the order taker talked them through the differences, noting that hake was a good alternative to cod. After finishing the conversation and the customer making his choice, I got into a conversation with the order taker about the hake, mentioning that I’d be back to try it. We talked for a moment about the monkfish as well, but because that’s the most expensive fish, I knew I wouldn’t be ordering it this time around. Though I do want to try it at some point. With my meal done, I thanked the guys for their hospitality and headed off to Neligans to begin my evening.
The thing I tend to forget about going out in Ireland is that music doesn’t begin until 9:30 pm or later. Which can make for a very long evening if you’ve spent the whole day running around. I arrived about 8:45, so had time to kill. I ordered a Guinness, (€4.50) and spied the young ladies I had met at Reel. I then asked if I could share their table, and they kindly obliged. I apologized for the music not having started yet, since it had been my idea to send them there. They commented how the bar seemed so empty, and I told them to wait, it wouldn’t be for long.
The musicians began setting up around 9:00 pm, and they started playing shortly after. As is common, people began filing in around 9:15 pm, and the bar quickly filled up. While the music and the musicians were good, I realized that it wasn’t the type of Irish trad music I wanted to hear that evening. So, finishing my Guinness, I wished the young ladies well, and decided to move next door to An Droichead Beag. Touted as the best late night pub in Dingle, their music was more to my taste. A fiddle player, guitarist, and drummer were playing a nice jig, so I stood in the door listening for a moment. It didn’t take long for me to decide that I was staying, and after the song, I went up to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic with Dingle gin (€7.50).
I had never had a gin and tonic before, and just the idea that I was ordering one was enough to send my inner teenager on a giggle spree, as if I was doing something naughty and hoping I got away with it. The bartender asked which glass I’d like it in, and so not to seem too pretentious, I asked for a regular glass rather than the goblet they normally put it in. He kindly obliged, putting in ice, dried blueberries, lemon, and lime, then adding the gin to fill a quarter of the glass. He put the glass on the counter, then turned and grabbed a small bottle of Fever Tree tonic.
I paid and turned to find a place to sit. A group of folks had taken up residence at a table by the fireplace, and there was a stool open. I asked if anyone was sitting there, and they responded with, “You are!” Best type of people! I thanked them and sat down, taking a quick sip of the gin before I poured in the tonic. I had never heard of Fever Tree before, but boy was I so glad it was a night of trying new things, because it turned out to be just the right combination.
I turned to pay attention to the band, and my brain immediately started associating the members features with people it recognized. For instance, my brain associated the fiddle player with my best friends boyfriend. Turning to the guitarist, he reminded me of Damien Lewis (Wolfhall, Homeland, Dreamcatcher). I then glanced at the drummer, and my brain flashed a picture of William Fitchner (Armageddon) into my mind’s eye. This is how my brain works, association and analysis.
As I continued to listen to the band, I realized that it was good dancing music, more of the Celtic style I’m used to hearing. Playing a couple more tunes, they took a break, and I turned to chat with the lovely couples at my table. A group of older folks from various places, we had good conversation, laughing quite a bit throughout the evening.
At the end of the evening, I asked the fiddle player if they’d be playing again that week, and he let me know he was playing again on Thursday at a couple places, including Droichead. I thanked him and the band mates, and headed off back to the house, satisfied with my day and looking forward to the next.
