Tim was calling out the forecast as we planned what we might do in Waterville. We were down in one of our favourite places, The Smugglers Inn. “A gentle rain all day Friday. That will be perfect,” he says. “For what?” I ask. “For the absorption of the fertiliser. It needs 24 hours to attach to the soil.” Farming never leaves us. Geároid Harrington had spread fertiliser on Wednesday before we left for Kerry.

Tim continued to peruse what to do as I leave to check out the new relaxation centre. I had a date with Gillian, to show me the workings of the sauna and hot tub. We meet at the door. She is anxious that I have a good session. I feel like I’m the only customer staying at the inn. I spend a few minutes in the sauna looking out on the wild Atlantic ocean gently caressing the rocky shoreline.

Kerry Greenway

My eyes stray to the beach beyond. A few lone walkers are moving quickly. I keep myself in the moment. Then I sink into the bubbling hot tub. What bliss, no need to worry about prying eyes as I allow the jets to massage all my aches away.

When I return, Tim says, “Will we cycle some of the Kerry Greenway? We’d have to drive to Tralee. It’s a 14km ride to Fenit.” It was the last thing I expected. Tim is allergic to any type of organised exercise.

“Why not,” I replied, not feeling at all confident. It must be 20 years since I’d been on a bike. Tim is immediately on the phone booking two electric bikes.

The following morning after a scrumptious breakfast, we strike for Tralee. It is raining gently. We meet Andy of Like Bikes at the Mounthawk carpark. Andy gets me on the bike. I wobble. He encourages me to use the help of the electric part. I was so cautious. Meanwhile, Tim is confident and away.

To be honest, if anyone had suggested that I wait in the car, I’d have been in it in a shot. Instead, I walked down the hill to the greenway, straightened up the bike, made sure there was no one in sight and wobbled after Tim.

The ‘kissing gates’ were a nightmare for me. I had to slow and put the foot down. Meanwhile, Tim powered on. “Keep up, stay on the bike,” he shouted back to me. These comments were not received well. I was envious of his assuredness but I gradually improved and old skills returned. We had a nice break at Mike’s Café in Fenit.

We enjoyed the magnificent scenery along the Kerry Way. I especially liked seeing the farm animals, farming practices and the lovely wild flowers. I even saw a snail crossing the greenway. By the time we returned to Tralee, I had a sore bum and tired legs, but I was thrilled that I’d cycled almost 28km.

“Well,” said Tim, “did you see the snail?” I must have hesitated with my answer. “You didn’t kill it?”

“I saw him at the last minute,” I replied. “I’d have fallen if I’d tried to avoid it.”

Chef extraordinaire

Saturday, found me back in the hot tub with good reason. There was a man jobbing around the place. I stopped to chat to him, discovering it was Henry Hunt, the owner and chef extraordinaire at the Smugglers.

I thanked him for the most exquisitely prepared food and tantalising flavours that we enjoyed along with a superbly attentive staff. Annmarie and Marqueta pampered us in the dining room. Gillian made sure our stay was just right, organising kippers for Tim’s breakfast. As we had our last lunch, a huge hare ran across the lawn in front of the sea, an image of wildness and beauty.