Day 32: Gettin' down in Dingle town

This morning we arose early and took advantage of the free laundry services before shouldering our packs for one last hike: six-ish miles of paved roads from Baile na nGall [Ballynagal or Ballydavid] to An Daingean (or Daingen Ui Chuis) [Dingle].* It was pretty much a straight shot: left out of the pub/hostel, right, slight left, right, left, and there you are. And it was pretty nice too, actually; though some bits were along little roads with hedges taller than we were and the last long straightaway was pretty busy, we still got to see the countryside and even some interesting archeological remains. We walked past a stone longhouse-type thing, basically an elongated stone arch, that is apparently fairly well-known. No mortar was made to construct it, and it's as solid as the day it was constructed several hundred years ago. We made our farewells to the Dingle Way...

These markers had guided us faithfully for four days

Interesting note: we found ourselves on another walking way for a little bit, this one possibly more of a pilgrimage. 

...and walked for two hours to Dingle. Quick, relatively painless, and only 100 meters of elevation gained in one long up and then down. So much more pleasant than a fifteen mile trek including 700 meters up would have been.

One last look at the northwest side of the peninsula

We arrived in Dingle, checked into a hostel, and explored the town a bit more: looked at gift shops, cried bitter tears that the wool shop was closed, and got ice cream. The ice cream place has a lot of good flavors, but my favorite (and the strongest reason I currently have to return to Dingle) is the Dingle Gin flavor. It's not particularly strong or anything, but it's a unique flavor and I could eat at least a gallon of it before getting tired of it. Too bad they don't deliver to the US...

After some music and Guinness and food and more wandering, we turned in for the night and prepared ourselves for the railway ride across Ireland to Dublin which we shall take tomorrow.

*Dingle has actually had quite a lot of confusion about its name. In 2005, all towns in the Gaeltacht (the Irish-speaking parts of Ireland) were legally obligated to remove the English names from their street signs, which for Dingle meant putting up An Daingean signs everywhere. Since this town relies so heavily on tourism, residents were upset about the change and worried that tourists would not be able to find it. About a year later, the suggestion was put forward to instead put up signs labeled Dingle/Daingean Uí Chúis, with the result that there are three different names for the town signposted all over the place--which if you ask me serves only to confuse us even more.