KENMARE Date: September 1995
Carrantoohill
Up for it were Yuppy, Mr Tahoohigh, Jaycee, Sean, Tim, Crustee, Brackers and cider drinker Simon.
We arrived at
13:35 on Friday 29th September at Cork airport courtesy of Maersk Air
and were met by our personal custodian Pete, driver of our luxury mini coach. We
were chauffeured via a couple of Guinness watering holes to our digs at Ardmore
House, where we were met by our hosts Toni & Tom Connor. Complimentary tea &
cake was quickly consumed.
The first day's
walk was from the Windy Gap through Derrycunhilly woods over the Gap of Dunlow
to Kate Karney's Cottage; a distance of 17 Irish miles or kilometres but who
cares. A visit to the local pubs in Kenmare and a meal passed the rest of the
evening apart from Crustee moaning that we had stayed too far out of the town
centre. It must have been at least 800 metres (or 5 minute walk).
The second day was the big one. A walk over the Coomloura horseshoe taking in three of Irelands highest peaks; Caher, Carrantouhill (highest in Ireland) and Beenkeragh.
Our taxi driver Pete was so impressed that ‘dinglish’ had come all this way to climb a bit of a hill in his back yard that he decided to come with us to see what all the fuss was about. The magnificent coach that had picked us up the day before had miraculously transformed into a beat up old Ford Transit van with wooden slat seats and a window that would not close . Pete called at his home to get his plimsoles, wifes pink anorak, a packed lunch and a packet of 20 woodies to accompany us on the climb. After keeping us waiting for 35 minutes (probably having his breakfast) he came out raring to go.
We could see the top of Caher from the start of the climb and 3hours later we could still see it just as far away. After a relentless uphill climb we arrived at the summit to find Pete unhindered by rucksacks, climbing boots etc having his spam butties and a woody.
Pete, Tim Brackers and Simon completed the route around the rest of the horseshoe over Carranntouhill and Beenkeragh while the rest of us decided to return the way we came. The wind was so strong, at least 2mph, that it blew Joe over. Yuppy screamed “don’t move” and ran to take a photo of Joe in his distressed state. Eventually Joe was helped to his feet by Jaycee and the decent continued. A few hundred metres from the base of the mountain we crossed paths with a large white bull. Joe thought he’d seen a banshee and decided to take a detour half way back up the mountain to allow Yuppy’s red socks to distract the bull. The bull took no notice of the socks or Yuppy and Jaycee jumping a ravine as wide as Beechers Brook, meanwhile Joe who climbed 1500m in record time arrived half an hour later after his “short” detour.
It was about an inch on the map from the start of the walk to the Climbers Inn at Glencar but it took forever to walk. Jaycee was like Bambi on ice because his legs were so weak. Just as the Climbers Inn came into sight we were overtaken by the stragglers in the van to beat us to the pub.
Much Guinness was consumed in the pub and somehow Jaycee lost his trousers. As the Inn was a Church in sheep’s clothing, we prayed for some traditional Irish music and as if a miracle had occurred A young lad appeared with a guitar and began playing and singing. Crustee suggested we should go with him to the local pub in Killorglin where he was doing a turn that night. We asked Pete what he thought and he said “I don’t give a shite”, so off we went. The first pub that we entered was painted black and had a tricolour fastened to the ceiling. Crustee’s trousers turned brown and a strange odour filled the air, so after downing one pint we left. The second pub was packed, chatter and laughter was loud. As we entered a deathly silence ensued. Who are these strangers entering our pub? Alright lads bellowed from a corner, it was our young lad. Suddenly we were flavour of the month and normality resumed. Events now become hazy but there is photographic evidence to show all of us having a dance with the locals to the resident Irish dance band (Crustee bribed the leader). After this apparently we all hung upside down like chickens in a butcher’s window on the car park barrier outside or so the photograph shows anyway.
Pete (driver) had so much Guinness (at least 10 pints) he could not remember the way back to the B and B in Kenmare so he decided to drive over the mountain pass to avoid the Garda in Killarney. As the transit van could not get over the Ballebema pass with all the weight, we all got out to discharge a substantial amount of processed Guinness. All except for Yuppy who was not aware the van had even stopped. He did not dare open his mouth and ask a question or he would have vomited all over Jaycee.
We arrived back at the digs about 4a.m. and Yuppy hit the bed fully clothed and did not move until he smelt the bacon and eggs cooking for breakfast.
Pete apparently none the worse from the previous night picked us up to return to Cork Airport and back to England.
We were all in the van waiting for Brackers who’s always late but well organised, so we thought. It was only when we got to the airport that he realised that he had left a clock that he had bought for a present on the bed. "Perhaps they will post it" he said, fat chance.
We arrived back at Birmingham international at 15:45 on Monday 2nd October laughing and reminiscing all the way home.
Memories of Mr Tahoohigh, with additions from Jaycee