It certainly started to make up for the day before, less hard shoulder roads, a nice beach walk and plenty of trails through the fields full of sheep, just above the coast road. Giving you height and a sense of solitude, yet habitations and touristic road were so close, it was pure serenity.
Finally I could enjoy nature, admire the pure raw beauty of Ireland, so I sat there for lunch, simply, in a field with sheep around me, the infinite view out to the sea.
I never feel alone or lonely when I’m in nature, the green grass by the cliffs is cuddly like a blankly, I love to lay on it watch the funny shapes of the clouds in the sky, watch the birds dance with the wind and just breath.
One particularity about the West of Ireland landscape is that it's punctuated by lines upon lines of dry walls. Designed to dived the fields and keep the livestock safe.
I admire the craftsmanship in this intricate and simple work of stacking the dry stones, thick and resisting to the wind years after years.
Another 'peculiar' stone stacking I noticed was them, put together by each passer by who wish to contribute.
When I was in mongolia as we entered the park stopped at one big stack and had to circle it 3 times then contribute to our own rock and make a wish.
I liked the shamanic approach of respecting and honoring the nature, like before you eat something you throw a bit out to the nature as a thank you for what she provided.
After a good break sitting among the sheep and admiring the views I kept going along the stone wall, for ages… until an interesting piece of 'architecture' popped in the landscape…Clochans, built from the 8th century by monks who were following St Patrick, very popular in the Dingle Peninsula.
By the end of the path, after a right turn here what appeared before my eyes, all of a suddain, it was just so exciting, the furthest Island at the