We kicked off the week right where we left off in Kinsale, still in the middle of our ten-day road trip through Ireland with our friends from the U.S.
After a quick breakfast in Kinsale, we hit the road toward our next stop: Killarney National Park. The drive took us along some incredibly narrow, winding country roads. It was a bit nerve-racking at times, but after a couple of hours, we arrived safely.
We started the day at Muckross House, a grand Victorian mansion perched on the edge of Muckross Lake. With its ornate rooms, period furnishings, and sweeping gardens, it felt like stepping into another era.
After touring the house, we set off on a one-mile walk along the lakeshore to Torc Waterfall, where water tumbled through a canopy of lush woodland and over moss-covered rocks, the whole scene impossibly green and serene.
Killarney National Park is Ireland’s first national park and is truly beautiful. It was originally part of the Muckross Estate, which was donated to the Irish state by the Muckross family in 1932; the wider Killarney area was later expanded and designated as a national park in 1939. We had beautiful blue, sunny skies during our walk, making it an ideal day to explore.
When we finished our walk, we drove into Killarney town for lunch at another cozy pub, J.M. Reidy’s, did a bit of browsing in the local shops, and then continued on toward Kenmare, pulling over a couple of times to capture the sweeping views.
Our arrival in Kenmare came with an unexpected upgrade. Instead of standard hotel rooms, we discovered we had booked two separate townhouses in a brand-new development. For one night, we got to live side by side again. The spaces were bright, modern, and fully equipped, complete with washers, dryers, and full kitchens. Somehow, they cost half as much as the hotel from the night before, which made the whole thing feel like a small victory. We happily took advantage of the laundry and the extra space before heading into town.
That evening, we wandered through Kenmare, stopping at a pub, O’Donnabhain’s for dinner and then drifting from place to place in search of live music. By the time we made it back, we were content to settle in, play a few games, and enjoy a quiet night together.
The next morning, we set out to drive the Ring of Kerry, one of Ireland’s most famous scenic routes.
The road winds its way around the Iveragh Peninsula, revealing several breathtaking views. Our first stop was Sneem, a postcard-perfect village filled with colorful buildings, where we grabbed coffee before continuing on.
From there, we made our way to Derrynane Beach, where soft white sand met clear blue water, framed by rolling green hills. We walked along the shoreline and played in the water’s edge while Matt sent his drone up above the Abbey Island, capturing views of the Derrynane Abbey ruins.
After Derrynane Beach, we paused at a handful of scenic overlooks before reaching Waterville, a charming seaside town with a relaxed feel and a surprising connection to Charlie Chaplin, who used to vacation there.
After lunch at the Beachcove Cafe, we drove a little inland for what would become the most memorable stop of the entire trip: Hidden Hills Farm.
Hidden Hills Farm was not a polished tourist attraction but a real, working farm. When we pulled up, it felt almost like we were intruding, as if we had arrived unannounced at someone’s home. Instead, we were welcomed, by one of the owner’s, Kitty, who was about to feed the baby lambs their lunch. Kitty greeted us in the driveway and led us straight into the experience.
The lambs we met were not there for show. Each had been rejected by their mothers, something that can happen if a ewe is overwhelmed or has too many to care for. These lambs were being bottle-fed and raised by hand until they were strong enough to return to the flock.
One by one, we took turns feeding them, holding them, and laughing as they eagerly jostled for attention. Afterward, they bounced around with surprising energy, then just as quickly curled up, perfectly content to be held.
At Ryan’s request, we also spent some time with the chickens. Kitty couldn’t resist playing a prank, convincing him that a chicken had laid an egg right into his hand, which had all of us laughing. She then showed us a group of chicks that had hatched just the day before. They were impossibly small and so cute! We’ve never seen chicks so tiny.
Before we left, Kitty led us out into the field, where the rest of the animals were waiting. A flock of sheep came running toward us, joined by a group of curious alpacas. As we stood there surrounded by them, she talked about how much farming in Ireland has changed. Wool, once a cornerstone of the economy, has lost so much value that some farmers now burn it rather than sell it. Today, sheep are raised mostly for meat, a shift that quietly reflects changing times and traditions.
Eventually, we tore ourselves away from Hidden Hills Farm and got back on the road, continuing along the Ring of Kerry. Our next stop was St. Finian’s Bay, a small cove, where we stopped to watch surfers riding the huge waves.
Next up was the Cliffs of Kerry. The rugged coastline stretched out before us, waves crashing far below. Unlike some of the more famous viewpoints, it felt peaceful and uncrowded, especially compared to the Cliffs of Moher just a little further to the north.
It was really windy at the Cliffs of Kerry making it pretty cold. We didn’t stick around once we had hiked to both viewpoints and ran back to the car. Along the remaining drive to our next stop, Matt stopped a few more times to fly his drone and take photos of the dramatic coastline.
By the time we arrived at our next stop in Dingle, around 5 PM, the contrast of accommodations could not have been greater. Our rental apartment was a centuries-old townhouse right in the heart of town, surrounded by lively pubs and restaurants, but it felt like stepping back in time in a very different way. The building was likely from the 1600s, full of creaks and quirks, and decidedly rustic. One of the bathrooms was even outside!
We couldn’t help but laugh. Travel is unpredictable, and part of the fun is never quite knowing what you’re going to get and we never want the kids to get too comfortable. Sometimes it’s five-star luxury, and sometimes it’s a tent in the desert and something much more memorable for entirely different reasons.
After settling in, we discovered we had a washer and dryer yet again, so another round of laundry was set in motion before we headed out for dinner. The town was buzzing with energy, far more lively than Kinsale or Kenmare had been. Even on a Wednesday night, the streets were full, the pubs were packed, and live music spilled out onto the sidewalks. We later learned that Dingle is a favorite not just for tourists but for locals as well, especially for celebrations like hen and stag parties. With its constant music and easygoing atmosphere, it felt a bit like Ireland’s answer to Nashville.
We eventually found a spot at the Dingle Pub and had to wait a bit for a table, but it was well worth it. Once we were seated, we settled in for a relaxed dinner accompanied by live music, the kind that seems to fill every corner of the room. After such a full day, we headed back to the house, opened a bottle of wine, and spent the rest of the evening playing card games together.
The next morning, we were up early again, this time to drive the Slea Head Road on the Dingle Peninsula, a breathtaking stretch of Ireland’s southwest coast. Known for its rugged cliffs, winding roads, ancient stone ruins, and sweeping Atlantic views, it is usually what you are looking at when you see a picture of the Irish coastline.
Unfortunately, the day didn’t start out picture-perfect. Rain poured down as we set off, and thick fog clung to the coastline, hiding much of the landscape from view.
Just as we reached our first major stop at Slea Head, the weather began to shift. The clouds slowly lifted, the rain eased, and patches of sunlight broke through. Matt took the opportunity to send his drone into the air, capturing dramatic views of the cliffs as they emerged from the mist.
We continued along the peninsula, stopping often to take in the views, each one somehow more striking than the last. By the time we reached Dunmore Head, we were starting to see more sunlight.
We made a stop at the Dunquin Pier where we bounced around on the mossy grass. The wind is so strong there and blows the grass sideways packing it down tightly. When you walk on it, you get a trampoline effect.
Carrying on, we eventually reached the westernmost point of Ireland, where the land appears to tumble into the vast Atlantic. As if on cue, a nearby pub, Kruger’s Bar, proudly claimed to be the most westerly in the country, and we couldn’t resist stopping in and adding another superlative to the list of pubs we had visited.
We made one final stop at Waymont Head, where the sun shone brilliantly. The O’Rourkes managed to get some beautiful family photos, but by the time I had gathered my family, a huge storm had rolled in and ruined the views. Such is life.
Afterward, we attempted to find lunch in one of the small villages along the route, but everything was closed. While Dingle itself had been lively and full of energy, much of the peninsula was quiet for the Easter holiday, with shuttered doors and empty streets. In the end, we made our way back to Dingle, where we had lunch at Murphy’s Pub before spending some time browsing the local shops.
In a moment that felt almost surreal, Ryan suddenly turned to me and said, “Mom, there’s someone from my high school here.” I asked where, and he pointed toward a restaurant we had just passed. As a woman walked out, I took a chance and asked if she lived in Stuttgart. When she said yes, Ryan, clearly embarrassed, confirmed that one of his classmates was with her. We exchanged a quick greeting, wished each other a good trip, and went our separate ways.
Not even a minute later, Brooklyn caught up with us, and we told her what had just happened. She paused and said, “I wonder if it’s the teacher I am an aide for. She said she’d be in Ireland.” We circled the block trying to find her, but had no luck. It wasn’t until we were back in Stuttgart that everything came full circle. The first thing her teacher said to her was, “I met your mom in Ireland.” Moments like that make the world feel surprisingly small.
Since Dingle is famous for its pub scene and our kids were more than tired of us after almost a week together, we planned our own version of a pub crawl for the afternoon. Earlier, I had picked up a print of Dingle’s pubs from a local art shop, and we used it as our guide. It felt a bit like a treasure map, leading us from one cozy spot to the next.
We brought the kids back to the house and got them settled with their electronic devices and they waved us off to start the pub crawl. Since we had already eaten at The Dingle Pub the night before, we counted that one as complete and crossed it off.
Our first stop of the day was Foxy John’s, one of the most unique spots in town, as one side is a hardware store and the other a traditional Irish pub. It has also been featured on Rick Steves, so another exciting stop for Megan and I. Locals and visitors stood shoulder to shoulder, sipping pints among shelves of tools and supplies, giving the whole place a charm that felt both authentic and completely unexpected.
From there, we wandered through town, popping into pub after pub, each with its own personality, music, and crowd.
At our final stop of the night, we had a funny full-circle moment when one of the other guests turned out to be our waiter from lunch earlier that day. He recognized us immediately, and before long we were sharing drinks with him and his friends, swapping stories and laughing like we had known each other a long time. As we had gotten to know each other, the bartender even let Megan and I pour a few pints.
Thursday morning came quickly, and it was time to hit the road again. We packed up Tilly, the van, and set off toward the Cliffs of Moher, starting with a drive over Conor Pass. The narrow, winding mountain road cut through dramatic hills, with sweeping views of valleys and coastline unfolding around every turn. Thankfully, traffic was light that early, which made navigating the tight far less stressful.
After about three hours, we arrived at the Cliffs of Moher. The weather, however, had other plans. Rain poured down and a thick haze hung in the air, obscuring much of the view. It wasn’t quite the dramatic reveal we had imagined, but we made the most of it, visiting the visitor center and walking along the cliff path. Even through the mist, you could sense just how spectacular it must be on a clear day.
Cold and soaked, we climbed back into the van and went in search of something warm to eat. We found a cozy spot in the next town, the Riverside Tavern, where we tucked into seafood chowder, chicken wings, and fish and chips. It was exactly what we needed. Refueled and warmed up, we continued on to Galway, arriving in the late afternoon.
By then, the rain had thoroughly soaked us. Our shoes squished with every step, and even our jackets had given up trying to keep us dry. We took our time warming up at the hotel, grateful for hot showers and dry clothes. With the weather still miserable outside, we decided to stay in for dinner and enjoy the hotel’s bar afterward.
That decision paid off. A live group was playing, with a guitarist, harpist, and accordion player, their music filling the room with that unmistakable Irish energy. I posted a video on Instagram, and the next morning a friend messaged me to say the harpist was someone she knew. Once again, the world felt surprisingly small.
The following morning, the rain had finally let up. Megan, Avery, and I slipped out early to explore Galway before the day began. We wandered through the Latin Quarter, where colorful storefronts, lively cafés, and street performers brought the narrow lanes to life. Even in the quiet of the morning, you could feel the energy of the place and imagine how vibrant it must be at full swing.
After grabbing coffee for everyone, we headed back to the hotel, packed up, and set off for County Leitrim. This part of the journey felt a bit more personal, as we were visiting sites connected to the O’Rourke family.
Our first stop was Leitrim Village, where the remains of the original O’Rourke Castle still stand, or at least a small section of its wall. Once a powerful stronghold in the early Middle Ages, it now sits quietly in the middle of a car park, marked by a simple plaque. It was a quick stop, but meaningful in its own way.
From there, we continued to Parke’s Castle, another site with deep ties to the O’Rourke family. Originally their stronghold, it was taken by Elizabeth I in the 1500s after they supported the Spanish Armada and later given to the Parke family. The castle, set along the water, is beautifully preserved. When we arrived, the rain was coming down hard, so we hurried inside to explore. By the time we finished, the sun had come out, casting a completely different light over the grounds and giving us the chance to take some beautiful photos.
Next we had lunch at the Harp Tavern in Sligo to warm up for the next part of our journey. We then made our way toward Northern Ireland. The border was so subtle we barely noticed crossing it, and soon we arrived in Portrush, where we would spend the night. After checking in, we went for a walk through town, did a bit of shopping, and naturally, set out to find the oldest pub. We eventually found it, packed and lively, but managed to squeeze in upstairs for a round of drinks.
As the evening went on, the weather turned quickly. A winter storm, later named Storm Dave by the UK weather service, rolled in with fierce winds and dropping temperatures. What had started as a casual walk turned into a hurried search for shelter. We followed the waterfront until we reached The Quay restaurant, where we gratefully settled in for dinner, watching the storm rage outside.
Afterward, we headed back to the hotel for one last round of drinks before calling it a night.
The next morning was our final full day in Ireland. After a hearty breakfast, we loaded up the van and set off along the coast. The storm had passed, leaving behind cooler air and occasional drizzle, but we caught a welcome break in the rain as we arrived at Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge. The short mile hike out was peaceful, and we were among the first to cross. Suspended above the crashing water, the bridge was both thrilling and a little nerve-wracking, but the views made it unforgettable. By the time we headed back, a long line had formed, and we were glad we had come early.
Next was the Giant’s Causeway, where thousands of hexagonal basalt columns form a natural pathway into the sea, the result of ancient volcanic activity. By the time we reached the shoreline, the rain had returned in full force. We explored as best we could, snapping photos between downpours, before making the steep walk back up to the van, completely soaked once again.
Our final stop along the coast was Dunluce Castle, perched dramatically on the edge of a cliff. Built in the 13th century, the castle later became the stronghold of the powerful MacDonnell clan. Its setting is as dramatic as its history, with parts of the structure once collapsing into the sea during a storm, including, according to legend, the kitchen. Over the centuries, it witnessed battles, sieges, and decline before eventually being abandoned. Today, its ruins remain one of the most iconic and photographed sites in Northern Ireland. The wind and rain made for a quick visit, but even in those conditions, the castle was striking.
We stopped in Bushmills for lunch at a small café before heading to the Old Bushmills Distillery. Tours were sold out, but that didn’t stop us from enjoying a tasting flight, which was really all we had hoped for anyway.
From there, it was on to Belfast for our final night. After checking into the AC Marriott and changing into dry clothes, the kids opted to stay in while the adults went out to explore.
We wandered the city before stopping at White’s Tavern, the oldest pub in Belfast, a sprawling and historic pub with multiple rooms and a lively atmosphere. We found seats in an atrium area where live music was playing and stayed for a few songs and drinks.
Later, we made our way to Kelly’s Cellars, another of Belfast’s oldest pubs, where we decided to settle in for dinner. The food was excellent, and we even got an impromptu lesson in Northern Irish history when we unknowingly ordered a Black and Tan. Our waitress quickly explained the term’s historical significance and why it is best avoided, a moment that was both educational and humbling.
We ended the night back at the hotel, where the kids joined us for a few games and a final round of drinks. It was the perfect way to wrap up the trip.
The next morning, we set off early for the airport, skipping breakfast to give ourselves plenty of time. That decision turned out to be crucial. About thirty minutes from the airport, we had another tire blowout, even worse than the first. We managed to pull over and called the rental company, who sent roadside assistance. After a long wait, help arrived, only for us to discover they had brought the wrong size tire.
With time slipping away, we scrambled. After several frustrating calls with the rental company and no clear solution, we made a quick decision. Matt stayed with the van while the rest of us grabbed taxis and raced to the airport. Somehow, against all odds, everyone, including Matt. made it. He made it to the gate with seconds to spare and his ticket had even been cancelled already, but they were able to reinstate it before the plane door closed.
We landed back in Frankfurt that evening and made the final drive home to Stuttgart, exhausted but happy and very ready for our own beds.
Looking back, the trip was everything we had hoped for and more. It was filled with laughter, unexpected moments, and unforgettable experiences. Traveling with another family made it even more special, giving the kids built-in companions and making every day more fun. Somehow, despite all the time spent together, everything went smoothly, which is no small feat. We came home with incredible memories and are already dreaming about our next trip to Ireland.
We covered quite a bit of Ireland, but there is still more to see. There were some things in Dublin we’d love to go back and do. We also talked about seeing Kilkenny, Waterford, and Limerick in the south, which we missed. Lastly, one day when we reach retirement, we want to come back and drive the entire Wild Atlantic Way, and then visit Donegal and Derry in the North.
Here is a map of where we did go:
Gilcrests Abroad 