Deer Spotting in Autumnal Ireland – Part 1

As usual, I didn't have a plan for what exactly I would see in Ireland. I only had five days, and I didn't want to spend too much of my time on buses. Instead, I looked for scenic walking trails that I could fit into those five days. My first step was finding somewhere to stay, so I checked where the Hostelling International hostels were located. Two of them stood out because they were relatively close to each other, which meant I could plan the rest of my trip around them.

The route of St Kevin’s bus

It wasn’t my plan to visit all of Ireland’s famous sights. As beautiful as they all are, what I needed was a short escape, a chance to reset, and a few days spent exploring the unknown. In my experience, those are the most rewarding trips, where you discover places as you go, places that rarely make it onto the first pages of the guidebooks. Getting lost on purpose. I looked into the most practical travel options, checked the public transport connections, and worked out how to make the most of the few days I had. I decided to focus on County Wicklow and the area around Dublin. Looking at a map, it's only a tiny corner of Ireland, so small that you could easily say I hadn't really seen Ireland at all.

I landed in Dublin, but my real destination was Glendalough. The St Kevin's Bus runs there twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening. The service was established in 1927 and has been connecting Dublin and Glendalough ever since. The bus is named after St Kevin, the sixth-century monk who founded the monastic settlement at Glendalough. It is one of the most important early Christian monastic settlements in Ireland. The St Kevin's Bus is by far the easiest way to reach Glendalough without a car, as there are virtually no other direct connections, and the alternatives are far more complicated. The journey was quite peculiar.

Since I was too late for the morning connection, I used the time until the evening to discover Dublin. When the time of departure came, I was a little worried, as the bus only drove from a special stop and not from where most buses run. But everything worked out in the end, and I climbed aboard what felt like a bus straight out of 1927. The journey had a wonderfully homely feel to it. It was clear that some of the passengers were regulars, as was the driver, and they chatted about the day's news and exchanged stories along the way. I have no idea how many official stops the route has, as the driver also pulled over outside people's homes whenever someone needed to get on or off.

By the time I arrived in Glendalough, it was already dark, and I mean properly dark. There wasn’t a single streetlight there. The only light came from the windows of nearby houses and the occasional lonely streetlamp. A friendly local, who immediately realised I wasn't from around there, pointed me in the direction of the hostel. As I walked along the dark road, I saw a large building glowing in the distance and felt relieved to know my accommodation was finally within reach.

Glendalough International Hostel is set in peaceful surroundings, right in the heart of the Glendalough Valley, within Wicklow Mountains National Park. I settled in, made myself comfortable, and enjoyed the hostel atmosphere, which was made all the livelier by a group of German secondary school pupils. I looked over the itinerary I'd put together just before setting off one last time, then headed to bed.

Glendalough: among the mist and the calls of deer

The next morning was misty and rainy. Perfect. Mist drifted through the valley, the birds were busy with their morning chorus, the rain fell softly, and everything felt even more magical and mysterious. I had chosen the Spinc and Glenealo Valley Loop, a circular walk that also offered the chance of spotting deer. The walk got off to a beautiful and scenic start. There were little streams everywhere, trickling brooks, waterfalls, a lake, sheep, and, in places, an incredibly dark forest. For most of the walk, I had the trail entirely to myself, with no one ahead of me and no one behind me. I only came across the occasional walker once the trail opened out. Along the way, I kept hearing strange calls that sounded like birds of prey. It was a sound I'd never heard before, nothing I recognised or could link to any animal, though if I had to guess, I would have said it came from a bird. The views became more and more spectacular, and I followed wooden boardwalks that crossed the boggy ground.

Then I spotted my first deer, lying quietly in the grass beside the path, its coat blending perfectly into the surrounding landscape. Soon I spotted another, then another. The mysterious calls finally had a face, as I realised they were the sounds these deer make. Fascinating. Before long, whole herds had appeared on both sides of the path. Most were younger animals, though every now and then I caught sight of the magnificent antlers of a stag in the distance. I sat down on a rock beside the path for a moment, and a curious young deer slowly began walking towards me, coming so close that I could almost have reached out and touched it. They were truly incredible sights. The trail continued along the river to the remains of a former mining village, now little more than ruins, which only made it all the more picturesque. I visited Ireland in early October, and the famous green landscapes were dressed instead in warm shades of orange and brown. The walk came to an end at what is known as the Lower Lake.

As I still had plenty of time before the bus, I took a walk to the ruins of the old monastic settlement and its cemetery. I had a little snack in the visitor centre garden and noticed that the hinds and young deer were so at home there that they seemed almost part of the landscaping. I suspect they enjoy feasting on the flower beds, much to the gardeners' frustration.

The rain had cleared by the time I reached Enniskerry, and I arrived in fresh, sunlit weather. From the bus stop, I still had a few kilometres to walk to Knockree HI Hostel along narrow country lanes lined with blackberry bushes, so I picked my dinner as I went.

Although I have no problem sharing a room, I couldn't help thinking how nice it would be to sink into a soft bed in a room with an en suite bathroom all to myself. And that's exactly what happened. The receptionist told me that, apart from the volunteers and trainees, I was the only guest staying that night. The bed was really comfortable, and the room looked out over the wide open countryside and the surrounding hills. It didn't take long before I drifted off to sleep, ready to recharge for the day ahead.