Killarney Ireland

Tells the true story of a family feud (religious differences), the death and burial in Killarney of the patriarch, and ultimate reconciliation of a well-known Irish-American family.

The story is interwoven with an enjoyable parallel story of the return to Killarney (and reconciliation) of two brothers as they walk the trails and mountains of Killarney National Park:

“Mangerton, Torc and the McGillicuddy Reeks were more than names to Frank; hikes on the slopes of these mountains were the source of the richest memories of his childhood and young adulthood”

Its not typical information that you’d expect to find on a tourist website about Killarney but I think it reflects the values, attitudes and perspectives of not only rural Ireland but also of the people of Killarney and first generation Irish Americans.

Most poignent though is the description of the funeral in which you can get a rich insight into Killarney, the respect for the dead, and some of the local customs:

“As the funeral procession passed, those walking in the opposite direction turned and took “the three steps of mercy,” walking with the procession. The depths of Ireland’s Catholic legacy was never so clear as when a group of loutish youths, who might have been a street gang anywhere else, bowed their heads and turned to take the three steps with us.

As we turned up the road to Aghadoe cemetery, a breeze blew, and the blossoms fell from the trees onto the coffin. If it had been a movie, I would have laughed. It’s never that perfect! Except it was.

The cemetery, crowned with the ruins of a sixth century chapel, looks down on the lakes of Killarney. Hamhanded farmers (my father’s schoolmates) helped us carry the coffin over rough ground to the family plot. Normally, after the service, we would have all left, and “the lads” would have filled in the grave. But we wanted a last farewell, so we sent the lads on their way, and Sean, James, Frank, and I filled in the grave.”

Its also an example of excellent travel writing detailing as it does the pleasures and challenges of Killarney National Park:

“The next few days we wore our legs off, as the paths became wilder. The worst of it was the aptly named Lack Road, which our guidebook insisted had been used to drive cattle to market “within living memory.” We couldn’t see how you could drive a mountain goat herd across it now, as we picked our way down an impossible steep slope. We understood why our aunt, who had worked in Kerry Mountain Rescue, had insisted we pack so many extra clothes. Turn an ankle out here, and you’re many hours from help, with changeable weather bringing freezing rain at any moment. At one point, the trail, which had us up to our knees in mud at many a point, vanished beneath ten feet of water, only to reappear tantalizingly on the other side, with no apparent way across. Ireland is a wilder country than many people realize.

On the fourth day, we came round the crest of a hill and saw the ocean spread out below us. Thirty or forty miles back the other way, we could see the gleaming lakes of Killarney, and amazingly enough, the green below Aghadoe. We could see many of the passes we’d picked our way through the last few days, the miles that had lent soreness to our feet.”

All told there is a depth of feeling in this story and how it is told that is really quite special. This story is excerpted from an anthology of travel writing (see below) about Ireland. It will give you an understanding about the customs and culture and simultaneously act as a guide on what to do, where to go and how to go about it.

Enjoy.