Ireland's Roads Less Traveled

A Rewarding Misadventure to the Loop Head Peninsula

Our Perspectives series returns with a misadventure to the Loop Head Peninsula that served a rewarding connection to golf in Ireland for Daniel Jones, H&B Marketing & Member Engagement Manager.

After an early morning arrival at the Shannon airport, I found myself with a wonderful gift in Ireland: free time. My room at the Doonbeg Resort likely wouldn’t be ready for hours, and I had a left-side of the road phobia to get over. I decided the best way to tackle it was to follow our own advice and take a warm-up drive.

The Loop Head peninsula is one of those places that the folks at Tourism Ireland love to splash around in marketing. And who can blame them…

A quick check of Google Maps showed that this prime Instagram real estate was just 45-minutes from Doonbeg. Despite the steady rain that was falling, I pressed start on the navigation and assumed that the weather would turn by the time I arrived.

It didn’t.

Soon, I recalled two previously forgotten, yet very important notes for Americans driving in Ireland:

Google Maps doesn’t live in reality. If you drive the posted speed limit in normal conditions, I’m sure their math checks out. But Lewis Hamilton wouldn’t run 80km/h on an R road in a rainstorm.

The R roads are… Narrow. Most of the drive out to Loop Head was on the R187. The R stands for Regional, and it ranks 3rd on Ireland’s scale of road designations: below Motorways and National roads, but above Local roads. As they weave their way through the villages and over the hills, R roads are often barely wide enough for one car, much less two.

Instagram: 1 – Reality: 0

The closer that I got to the tip of the Loop Head peninsula, the harder the rain seemed to fall. The passing cars, campervans, and semis – they call them lorries – were also inching closer to my sideview mirror.

As I neared the end of my 45-minute turned hour and a half journey, I was mentally exhausted and, like Google Maps, actively detached myself from the reality of having to make the drive back. Just beyond the village of Kilbaha, I passed a roadside mirage: a small sign for an art gallery and cafe. The next thing I knew, I was reversing down the R178, unconcerned by any oncoming traffic, convinced that I’d either imagined the sign or that the shop would be closed.

The Kilbaha Gallery was very real and very open.

Soon, I was enjoying an Americano and a fabulous piece of chocolate cake, surrounded by a number of beautiful works of art. Two bleary-eyed American ladies were at the next table – I resisted the urge to ask if they’d been similarly duped by Google Maps.

This was very needed and also the only photo I snapped in the Kilbaha Gallery.

While paying the bill, the woman who I assumed was the gallery’s owner, asked if I was in the area for golf. I confirmed that I was, though my accent, polo, and ¼ zip had clearly given me away.

“You might enjoy a look at this,” she said while pulling out a large photo album. As I flipped open the cover, I immediately recognized the sculpture in the first photo.

“Many years ago, my father sculpted the Payne Stewart statue at Waterville. My brother, Seamus, recently sculpted the goat at Lahinch.”

As I looked through the images, every picture captured a moment in the statue's journey—works of art that would later become familiar landmarks for so many golfers. I had seen countless photos of both statues, usually surrounded by our smiling groups, but nothing like this. These were the quiet beginnings of bronze coming to life.

I left the gallery, having almost forgotten my original destination entirely. The rain pelted down as I reached the Loop Head Lighthouse, snapped an anti-climactic photo, and turned back toward Doonbeg.

The drive back felt lighter, even as the rain grew heavier. Discovering that hidden connection to golf in this corner of Ireland had lifted something within me. It was clear that the true destination that day wasn’t the lighthouse but a chance encounter that I had nearly passed by.

The next day, I stood at Lahinch Golf Club and marveled at the Rampant Goat, seeing it with both a newfound appreciation and a realization:

You just never know what you’ll find on Ireland’s roads less traveled.

Note to Reader: The Kilbaha Gallery is still very much in business, however their cafe has given way to more of their exceptional art exhibits. If you make the drive out to Loop Head, pack your own chocolate cake.