An hour or so's drive from Cork, the Beara Peninsula begins in the pretty seaside town of Glengarriff (which, if you drive through at 8am, as we did, is still mostly sound asleep).  We had a quick breakfast at the Victorian Eccles Hotel there, overlooking the bay, and then beat feet out the door, on our way to the Healy Pass and the northern coast.  We now love blackberry preserves and loathe marmalade.

The car climbed the twisting road, past green hills and mountainous slabs of near purple stone. Our ears popped, and our daughter threw things around in the backseat.  We'd packed the usual Bag-of-Fun, with the etch-a-sketch, some crayons (please note, there will be a 'how to get crayon out of the back of a rental car seat' post forthcoming), and a wooden puzzle.  In other words, all projectile weaponry.

Playing "Look! Sheep! Cows!" bought us some time, and then she dozed, thanks to a combination of jet-lag and car-motion.  We were able to enjoy a few moments of quiet.  And then I dozed too, thanks to same.  We both woke when the car stopped, at the top of a misty ridge that marked the line between County Cork and County Kerry.   The sky cleared (as if it had been reading our guidebook) and we were in the middle of a wide expanse of Ireland - all alone.  Except for the sheep.  To the north, the road descended in hairpin turns through valleys, lakes, and several gleaming bays.  To the south, rocky stakeholds interspersed rolling green farmsteads.  The wind kept up a steady effort at poofing out the hoods of our jackets.

Standing on things and surveying her territory is a favorite activity, so we did that in various places, and then descended (filming a hilarious three-minute special called "Sheep in the Road!").  Just off the pass, the Derreen Garden provided a great hour's walk in the woods and by the lakeside, where we searched for mermaids.  A few miles more and we screeched the car to a halt-then-reverse at the marker for the Ardgroom Stone Circle.  You have to hike over boggy fields and climb stiles to get to this one - she was napping, so we planned to take turns visiting it.  By the time I returned to the car, covered with mud and other unmentionables, a half hour had passed and we decided to move on.  We knew we were headed to Drombeg by the end of the day.  Chalk up another Guinness for my husband's patient ways.

Driving the Ring of Beara involves much stop-and-start.  Both the "OMG TRUCK!" variety, and the "let's get out and look at this rock" kind.  The road narrows a lot if you do the outer ring, but the payoff is the ruins at Kilcatherine Church and the cemetery there.  After taking more photos of more spectacular hillside+ocean+stone cross views (Really, they are all spectacular.  All five bazillion of my photos, let me show you them), we drove towards Eyeries.  Which our daughter has dubbed "crayolaville".  Every house in Eyeries is a different color.  This makes it a popular setting for movies, and the cover image of one of our guidebooks.  And now, our daughter would like a pink house now, please.

We had lunch in Castletownbere, which is still a working fishing port and also very popular with the crowds at a little place called the Copper Kettle.  And then we walked three blocks into town to blow off some steam at the local playground, followed by another nap as we drove back through Glengarriff (there was a seal watch excursion we'd considered, but it was getting late),   Bantry, Skibbereen, and Glandore (both closer to the Sheepshead Peninsula than Beara), to the Drombeg Stone Circle. 

At this point, she was tired of driving, totally sick of us, and we were regretting our decision to tack this part of the trip onto our plan.  Until she saw the circle, and the ruins of the stone hut beyond.  Unlike Ardgroom, this circle is an easy walk.  It is vast, and well marked with explanatory signage.  It is old.  It is mysterious. There may be fairies.  And the stone hut is a great place, we discovered, for a little girl to stretch her imagination.  She played house in there - in that prehistoric hut, just beyond the druid's altar - for at least thirty minutes.  

And we didn't see a single tour bus all day.