Total distance around Ireland so far
5,112km (3,176miles)
Welcome to my Blog! You can read my story so far below and also see the plan ahead for June and July. All welcome to join me on any run, or even for part of a stage.
Stage 139: Friday 12 June: Clonakilty to Rosscarbery
Stage 141: Saturday 13 June: Timoleague to Kinsale (after Clonakilty parkrun)
Stage 140: Sunday 14 June: Clonakilty to Timoleague
Stage 142: Friday 10 July: Carrigaline to Kinsale
Stage 143: Saturday 11 July: Rest day (just a parkrun nearby)
Stage 144: Sunday 12 July: Carrigaline to Cork City
Stages 145-147 Probably on days between Monday and Thursday 13-16 July
Late May 2026: Stages 136-138: Co. Cork: Skibbereen to Rosscarbery
I’ve been reading Peter Somerville-Large’s ‘The Coast of West Cork’ describing the whole area in the early 1970’s. Peter, whose family came from Castletownshend, covered the coast on a bicycle. In his book, he also referred to other explorers like Bishop Pococke who went through the area on horseback in 1758. Someone once described the bishop as ‘the dullest man who ever travelled’. Let’s hope that this 2026 explorer (me!) is not like that and won’t bore people too much. So read on to find out….
How it all began: Remember the crazy idea is to run around the whole coast of Ireland - and strictly by the COAST. Up to now I've achieved this by running once/twice/three-times a month since it all started back in Feb 2017. After completing the whole coast of ULSTER (2017-2019), I've since run around the coast of CONNACHT (2020-2023). I'm now in the province of MUNSTER (2024-2027). I've already completed Co. Clare, Co. Limerick and Co. Kerry. Since March 2026 I've been tackling the coast of Co. Cork (as per planned stages above) See also earlier blogs for full story since the very beginning of this adventure. In the past, my run has been dedicated to Clifton Special School in Bangor, Co. Down where my son Brian attended for fourteen years. I raised £Stg3,688 for Clifton School and later €2,500 for Rosedale Special School in Galway. I'm going to continue this trend of supporting Special Schools in all four provinces in Ireland. (see Justgiving link below) and now I'm supporting Saint Gabriel's School in Cork. Also, there are still signed copies of my books available in Charlie Byrnes in Galway City or you can get a book, directly from me (where I live) in the Bangor/North Down/Ards area (free delivery). WhatsApp me on 00-44-(0) 7725613308 for more details or buy book through Amazon. All profits to Special Schools in Ireland.
Raising funds for Special Schools - see link below
www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/maureen-oboyle
If you are thinking of joining me or want more information please email me on gerry@oboyleaccounting.com or ring/text/WhatsApp me on 00 44 (0) 7725613308.
Read story so far (below) and/or donate to Special Schools www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/maureen-oboyle
Raising funds for Special Schools - see link below
www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/maureen-oboyle
If you are thinking of joining me or want more information please email me on gerry@oboyleaccounting.com or ring/text/WhatsApp me on 00 44 (0) 7725613308.
Read story so far (below) and/or donate to Special Schools www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/maureen-oboyle
Stage 136 Co. Cork: Castletownshend to Baltimore:
Friday 22 May 2026: 39.1km or 23.4miles
‘Of all inhabitants on earth to man alone I owe my birth. And yet the cow, the sheep, the bee are all my parents more than he’ Jonathan Swift who spent time in Castletownshend
I can identify with the writer Jonathan Swift as I rarely meet any people these mornings, just cows and sheep! I sneak out of the Airbnb at 6.53am. Just outside Castletownshend I follow the lane, signposted to Tragumna. These roads are so quiet and perfect for running on. I hardly see anyone or any cars all day. At Castlehaven Cross, I take a left passing Sandy Cove and sticking to the Western Road (L4218) as it’s aptly called.
A marker pointing to the coast says, ‘Toe Head’.
I’m able to loop around this small peninsula and do a little detour up to the
Signal Tower which was built in 1803.
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| Signal Tower & later a Coast Guard Station |
I think the British government panicked at the time, building hundreds of these signal towers to protect the Irish coast at the beginning of the 1800’s. The French had tried to land near Bantry in 1796, and they did actually arrive in north Mayo, where with only 1,000 men they had a fairly successful campaign in Connacht. There were no more invasions, and a lot of these towers fell into ruins as they were miles from anywhere. At least this one in Toe Head was converted to a Coast Guard Station. It looks more like a castle compared to some of the other Signal Towers I’ve seen. I read that 550 people lived in this area before the famine. Today there are few signs of any residents.
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| The Stags where many ships crashed |
Out in the ocean I spot ‘Na Stacai’
(The Stags) which is a group of jagged rocks which can easily tear through the
hull of any passing ship. In 1945 a German U-boat, the U-260 crashed here and
more recently in 1986 the ‘Kowloon Bridge’ ship suffered. It was
on a voyage from Canada to Scotland and the subsequent oil spill caused a lot
of damage to marine life. It’s the largest ever shipwreck in Irish waters.
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| View from the coastal road near Gokane Point |
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| I shouldn't have followed the coast from here! |
I reach
Tralispean Cove and this time, in my wisdom, decide to try to stay by the coast
to reach Tranabo Cove and Lough Hyne. This wasn’t a good idea at all! There was
a rough coastal path which seemed very achievable to run on. Spotting the pier
at Tranabo Cove in the distance gave me confidence. However, reaching the harbour
was very difficult. I ended up trampling through bushes and brambles and having to
climb over rocks and mini cliffs.
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| Not a nice experience - climbing back down this cliff |
It was not a pleasant experience, clambering
over steep rocks, trying to get through gorse bushes and crossing over a deep stream with a high wall behind it. I felt worn out with lots of cuts and scratches by the time I reached
Tranabo Cove. The cove translates as ‘tra na bo’ (beach of the
cow). At least I didn’t encounter any cattle which would have added to my
misery. At the pier I washed the blood of my legs and hands. I had been reading
Robert Devoy’s account of the 1755 Lisbon earthquake and subsequent tsunami and
how it affected the west of Ireland. Devoy gives examples of Tranabo Cove and
Tralispean Bay ‘where the tsunami wave caused extensive cliff erosion and
scouring’. Yes, it had been a strange and difficult coastline to
manoeuvre.
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| Scratched limbs after clambering towards 'Tra na bo' |
I head north, passing Ballyally Lough, following the bike sign to the left and finally reach Lough Hyne or Loughine as its also called. Lough Hyne was once a freshwater lake, but rising sea levels have made it more of a sea lake – or maybe lagoon is the proper term. It is also 50 metres deep, so I better be careful running along the edge. It is Ireland’s first marine nature reserve. I read too that the water near the sea entrance creates a habitat of highly oxygenated warm seawater that sustains plants and animals, many of which are not found anywhere else in Ireland or northern Europe.
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| Swimming in Lough Hyne |
I get chatting to a man who’s just been in for swim. His name is Johnny Holland, and he tells me that he swims in the lough every day. I think he said the water temperature was 13 degrees which is quite warm for this time of the year. I like what the writer Fitz-James O’Brien wrote about Loughine (as it is also called). O’Brien was born exactly 200 years ago but I don’t think much has changed since he wrote this.
I know a lake where cool waves break and softly fall on a sylvan sand and no steps intrude on that solitude, and no voice save mine disturbs the strand.
Yes, it is a lonely place
or maybe the Irish word ‘uaigneach’ sums it up better. Uaigneach also
captures a sense of isolation and remoteness. The writer Thackeray was not
impressed with Lough Hyne
‘I felt not sorry to have seen this lonely lake and still happier to leave it’
I spot a tiny island in the middle of the lake. The castle on the island is now in ruins. It was abandoned after their chief, Fineen O’Driscoll died in 1629. Then in the 19th century the castle collapsed apparently caused by the barking of a black dog!
To add to the eerie atmosphere around the lough, it is getting very foggy all of a sudden. After running down the west side of the lake I loop around and head north back towards the main road. My original plan was to try to run down to Ballymacrown. By doing this I could reach the Baltimore Signal Tower and see the EIRE 29 sign, but it’s much too foggy today. (in any case I’ve already seen a lot of these EIRE signs on my coastal runs).
Instead, I follow a bike trail sign along a country lane. On my OS map it’s called ‘Skibbereen Cycle Loop’. It’s a quieter way to enter Baltimore.
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| Baltimore Beacon on foggy day |
When I reach the village, I decide to continue running and keep going all the way up to the Baltimore Beacon. It’s nicknamed ‘the pillar of salt’ and yes, it does look like a large salt cellar. It’s actually 50 feet (or 15 metres) in both circumference and height. However, with today's fog there's not much of a view from here. On the following clearer days I kept spotting the Beacon from other areas.
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| Beacon looked much better from Sherkin Island three days later |
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| Another view of Baltimore Beacon from Sherkin Island three days later |
It was built to mark the harbour entrance for sailors, and this
structure was completed in 1849, replacing an older version there since 1788. It is still foggy and also now for the
first time today, it’s starting to rain. Maureen and Brian arrive just in time
and I’m happy to finish my run at the Baltimore Beacon.
Stage
137: Co. Cork: Skibbereen to Baltimore: Saturday 23 May 2026: 25.4km or 15.8miles:
‘And when to die a death
of fire that noble maid they bore, she only smiled, O'Driscoll's child; she
thought of Baltimore’ Thomas
Davis
As it is a Saturday morning, first I have to (of course!) do the parkrun. The nearest one is called ‘Castlehaven parkrun’ which is in Rineen Woods, only about 6km north of where we are staying in Castletownshend. Just before we begin our 5k run, I give my wee speech about my adventure – only 19 people start and finish the hilly course.
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| Can't miss an opportunity to do a parkrun |
Afterwards I drive back to the Airbnb and Maureen takes me to Skibbereen. I make my way down to the river Ilen and run along the southern shore of the river. Today’s stage, on the face of it, is quite short but I’m going to include two islands, Inishbeg and Ringarogy (Rinn Ghearroige). In the small square in Skibbereen there is long poem on the wall celebrating the River Ilen. It was prepared by the artist Tess Leak and historian Gerald O’Brien.
‘I carry it constantly, I carry it all, I carry the fish workers fleeing traumatised Baltimore’
It’s much nicer to run along the river on the south shore. So quiet on this country lane.
I can’t even imagine how different life was for everyone before the famine and before the spiral of emigration started. The writer Thackeray was here in 1842, a few years before 'the great hunger' and he commented on the crowds of people
‘The people came flocking into place by hundreds. The place seemed to be lined on either side with blue cloaks’
Just a few years later, everything changed. Peter Somerville-Large writing in 1971 says that West Cork never recovered from the famine.
‘It effects linger like clouds of fall-out. It gave the push to emigrated that was never halted’
It was probably the 1990’s before Ireland (and West Cork) recovered and I don’t think this area will ever replenish the population of the 1840’s.
I follow the River Ilen. Ilen translates as ‘Aighlinn’ a word sometimes associated with the way that moonlight reflects on water. At Oldcourt I join the main Skibbereen to Baltimore Road. It’s hard to believe that the railway line used to run along here, parallel to the R595. It is such a pity that the track was built on over the years. It would have made the perfect greenway. The last train left Baltimore on Good Friday 1961.
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| Crossing over to Inish Beg Island |
After about 2km I’m relieved to leave the busy road and make a detour to Inish Beg. Once I cross over the causeway I take a right. It’s a beautiful island and it’s the perfect day to be here. I get chatting to a man with a horse and he encourages me to keep running through the grounds of the big house.
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| Inish Beg - wish I had four legs like this animal |
There is a wedding on the island today and I chat to a young couple who have just arrived. I continue running, following a trail through the woods and do a wee loop around this side of the island. When I return to the mainland again, I notice a lady waiting for a bus at the top of the road. She’s carrying a fiddle and waiting for a bus to take her to a session in a pub in Skibbereen. She tells me her name is Georgie Keane and in fact, she and her husband Paul are the owners of the estate on Inis Beg. They moved here in 1997 and have restored and developed the house and grounds for weddings and other events. What a great job they’ve done.
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| Georgie Keane, with fiddle & waiting for bus to Skibbereen |
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| Bridge to Ringarogy Island |
The northern part of the island is called Donegall or Dún na nGall. No connection to Ireland’s northern county. It’s because Dun na nGall translates as ‘fort of the foreigner’ and there were lots of foreign invaders in this area. On the island I head south as I can see that there are a couple of roads that lead in the direction.
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| Country lane on Ringarogy Island |
I follow the coast on the eastern side of the island, but I probably kept running
too far, trying to reach the coast on the southern tip. I then realised
I was in private grounds, and a lady asked me to leave her gardens. Fair
enough! Pity though, there isn’t some kind of bridge or causeway from here at Ringarogy to
Baltimore. As the crow flies, I’m so close! Unfortunately, I have to run back
up the island again - all the way to the Lag Bridge and the mainland.
I was not looking forward to this part of my run, along the R595, a
busy and sometimes narrow road that eventually leads to my final destination today.
The
Irish-language name for Baltimore is ‘Dun na Sead’ ("fort of
the jewels"). It is also the home of the O’Driscoll’s. I mentioned pirates on my recent blog when I referred to
Long Island off the coast of Schull but didn’t realise how serious an issue
this once was. In the 1500s this area became a haven for
pirates, offering easy access to the main international shipping routes. The O’Driscoll’s
seemed to be the main culprits. However, I’m not sure if it was just ironic or
revenge but on 20 June 1631, Baltimore was attacked quite viciously by pirates
from Algeria in North Africa. The event is known as the ‘Sack of Baltimore’.
The pirates captured over a hundred people. Hard to know if some of the exiled
Spanish O’Driscoll’s were involved in the raid.
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| Arriving in Baltimore |
I can also make a
connection to my hometown of Galway as I know that Richard Joyce the man who
devised the design for the Claddagh Ring was also kidnapped by pirates from
Algeria when he was a young man. An Algerian jeweller taught Joyce his trade
and he was able to return to Galway and work on the famous ring.
The writer, Peter Somerville Large says
that in the early 20th century the pier in Baltimore was a scene of
furious activity during the high season when mackerel were salted and packed
for shipment to the United States. During WW1 special fish trains carried loads
of salted mackerel to Cork City and as many as sixteen trains left Baltimore in
one day.
Back in 2026 I
arrive in a bustling Baltimore. Such a lovely town that feels like the gateway
to the rest of the world, which isn’t really an exaggeration. I run to the end
of the pier and stop my watch. Today’s stage was not as tough as I thought it
would be. Strangely I hear a man’s voice calling my name, ‘Hello Gerry’.
I’m wondering who could possibly know me in Baltimore. It turns out to be Dom,
who stayed at the same B&B in Ballydehob a few weeks ago with his wife
Anita. Dom had been over in Sherkin Island. He invited me to Bushes Pub where he buys me a Murphy’s and a pint of water. Just what the doctor ordered! (Dom, if
you ever read this, please send me the picture you took of us)
Stage
138: Co. Cork: Castletownshend to Rosscarbery: Sunday 24 May 2026: 43.7km or 27.1miles:
‘In dreams I climbed to Ardagh and gazed out o’er the sea.
Dreaming of boyhood days in Ross’ A Rosscarbery Poem by Diarmuid O' Muineacain
Today I follow the coast east. This could be my last run in
West Coast as I heard that Rosscarbery is the unofficial border between West
Cork and the rest of Co. Cork.
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| Our Airbnb House in Castletownshend |
The most famous residents of
Castletownshend were Edith Somerville and Violet Florence Martin, who published
books and short stories in the 1890’s about the Anglo-Irish ascendancy class.
They wrote under the name ‘Somerville & Ross’ and their best known writings were called ‘Some Experiences of an Irish RM’ (RM
stands for Registered Magistrate who were usually appointed in British Colonies,
and I suppose back then Ireland was a colony). I remember the most famous
character in their books. He was called ‘Flurry Knox’ and I love
the way he is described when he first appears in their stories.
‘He was a fair, spare young man, who
looked like a stable boy among gentlemen, and a gentlemen among stable boys’
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| Castletownshend - 250 year old house, where we stayed |
The two ladies were very talented and are buried side by side in St. Barrahane’s Graveyard overlooking the harbour. In fact, the old name for the village, ‘Glenbarrahane’ is called after the fifth century saint. While we were in Castletownshend we did climb the steep hill to visit the ancient cemetery, but it was difficult to find the graves of the two ladies.
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| Sycamore Trees in Castletownshend |
It’s so peaceful as I cross over the bridge to the island which was built around 1800. Sean O’Coileain, who was known as ‘the silver tongue of Munster’ was so impressed with the bridge that he wrote a poem about it.
‘Praise for the bright bridge of Myross stretched prone on
the ford, solid secure underfoot, elegant finished complete’
Such praise and I can’t really add to that – to me it was just a wee bridge.
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| View of Low & High islands from Myross Graveyard |
What was much more impressive was the graveyard on the
island, ‘Reilig Mhiros’. I had to climb a steep hill to reach
this cemetery which overlooks the Celtic Sea (as this part of the Atlantic Ocean
is often called). Such beautiful views from here out to High Island and Low
Island.
I then ran back down the hill and followed the road east
towards Squinch Harbour. Daniel Corkery described this eastern part of Myross
as follows
‘One of the most secret places in Ireland, without traffic,
almost without the pulse of life’
Once I reach the mainland there are more secret places to see. I meet two cyclists who have just been for a swim at a beach called ‘Tra na Oilean’ (beach of the island). They advise me to run down to the shore and I’m not disappointed.
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| Running down to Tra na Oilean |
What a magical place it is. Tra na Oilean is so
close to Rabbit Island and that’s probably where the name comes from. Also, I
noticed out in the bay a rocky section known as ‘Stack of Beans’
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| View of Rabbit Island from Tra na Oilean |
I continue running north towards Union Hall but take a detour
down around Carrigihilly Lake and so arrive in the village from the south side.
Union Hall seems a strange name for an Irish village. It was called after the
big house that was named after the Act of Union in 1800. I’m not surprised that
the hall was burned down in 1921 during the War of Independence.
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| Union Hall Village |
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| Having a wee break in Union Hall |
Strange though that there is no Irish or Gaelic name for the
village. There were two Irish names, Bréantrá and Trá an Bhróin. The word Bréantrá means ‘rotten strand’ and Trá an
Bhróin translates as ‘Strand of Sorrow’.
Yes, I can see why they stuck with Union Hall instead of the Irish versions! In
the village there is a monument dedicated to all those lost at sea. Nearby is also
a huge anchor from an unknown 18th century French ship. It was only
found here as recent as 1999 at a location between Low Island and Myross Island
(where I was close to earlier)
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| Anchor found nearby off Myross Island |
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| Poulgorm Bridge from Union Hall |
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| Poulgorm Bridge that connects Union Hall and Glandore |
I cross Glandore Harbour over the narrow ‘Poulgorm
Bridge’ and follow the coast road. As I get close to Glandore I notice
that there seems to be something going on in the village. It is the annual
Glandore Regatta and the perfect weather for it. There are 23 races on the
cards today and plenty of excitement among the participants and spectators.
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| Annual Glandore Regatta |
Grandore translates as Cuan D’Or, ‘harbour of gold’
and it was James Redmond Barry, a trusted companion of Daniel O’Connell who put
the village on the map. Redmond Barry promoted local development and education. He also
funded the harbour paying £10,000 in 1820. His vision sparked the first regatta
in 1830 – and it continues today, almost 200 years later.
It’s strange to see so many people. I’m more used to running
along isolated country lanes or lonely beaches.
I’ve been reading Peter Somerville Large’s book ‘Coast of West Cork’. He cycled along these roads in 1972 on his own coastal adventure. He actually lived to the great age of 97 and only died very recently in October 2025. When he reached Glandore he commented.
‘I parked my bike nearby. Fortified by stout I was in better
humour to tackle the steep hills’
Maybe I should have stopped for some Murphys or Guiness to ‘fortify’ myself for all the hills that were ahead of me.
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| Leaving Glandore |
I leave Glandore and shortly take a much quieter country road and make it all the way down to ‘Prison Cove’. I see from the ‘Irish Naturists Association’ that they recommend the cove as a safe place to swim naked. I think I could have run around this whole area in the nude as there is not a soul in sight. I’m not sure why it is called Prison Cove. I think it might be similar to ‘Lochan an Phriosuin’ (the pool of the prison) in Rosmuc, Co. Galway where fisherman could get trapped in by the tide. It is quite isolated here – with only one way in our out, so a bit of a prison I suppose.
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| Prison Cove |
There are two small islands off the coast called Adam and
Eve. Around here the sailor’s saying is to ‘avoid Adam’, due to the shallows and reefs at the back of the island, but
to ‘hug Eve’, where there are clearer waters, closer to the
channel.
I walk back up (yes walk, not run!) another steep hill and follow a narrow road for a few miles, until the lane suddenly comes to an end. A sign says I have permission to cross into a farm at my own risk, so I rough it across the fields.
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| When the lane ended I did run across some fields |
I spot a farm gate in the distance, and it eventually brings
me onto a road in an area called Brulea. Soon I see Tralong Bay in front of me.
From a distance it looks like a sandy beach, but there doesn't seem to be any access to the shore.
In any case I want to stay inland so that I can see the ‘Drombeg
Stone Circle’ which is nearby. There are thirteen stones in a circle. In 1958 there were excavations and they showed that there was an urn burial in the middle and
evidence of a body wrapped in a thick cloth. It is from the Bronze Age, 3,000
years ago. Also, at sunset during winter solstice (21 December), if you stand between
the two main stones you can view the sun peeping through in the opposite hill. It’s
a similar design to Newgrange, Co. Meath where the winter sun shines through a small gap and lights up a whole chamber. I feel I should make some connection to the ancient burial site and so I place
my hand on a few of the stones, just as our ancestors might have done a few
thousand years ago.
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| Drombeg Stone Circle - 3,000 years old |
I return to the R597 for a few kilometres but at the Roury River I take a right, following the stream as far as Ballyvireen Bridge. From there I take the country lanes around by Droumgunna and Downeen and finally arrive in Rosscarbery. Exhausted after three days of running but happy to have achieved what I wanted to. All I want now is some water and a bag of salty crisps.
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| So great to see this welcome sign! |
As it is
perfect weather, Maureen, Brian and I linger in the area and visit nearby
Warren Beach (or Creggane Strand). Great to rest my feet in the cool salty
water.
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| Warren Beach, Rosscarbery |
Even on the following day (Monday) we make the most of the beautiful weather and get the ferry from Baltimore over to Sherkin Island. On the island we take the road SW for about 2k, passing the church.
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| Brian&Maureen pointing to the beach we found on Sherkin Island |
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| Maureen & Brian in front of sandy beach on Sherkin Island |
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| Relaxing on Sherkin Island with Maureen & Brian |
