The following day we started by water for Castletown, which is a nice thriving little place, at the extremity of the western side of Bantry Bay. We intended to have gone by land; and secured, as we thought, two jaunting cars, to take us there early in the morning; but when the morning came, no cars were to be had; so the Inn-keeper at Glengariff persuaded us it would be both shorter, and more agreeable, to go in <em>his</em> six-oared boat. As the day was beautiful, and the sea smooth, I made no objection [p. 57] to the plan; though we had all some misgivings, [p. 61] that it would prove a tedious business; and we were right. Three hours of hard pulling, and considerable tossing, round some of the rocky headlands which project into the bay, only brought us to Adrigoil [<em>sic</em>], a little village just under Hungry Mountain, and scarcely half way to Castletown. The scenery, however, amply repaid us during the whole row. We passed near some curious caverns in the rocky cliff; but I am always so uncomfortable on the sea, that I could not perfectly enjoy anything. At Adrigoil, the gentlemen intended to ascend Hungry Mountain, which expedition, every one said, could not be accomplished under five hours; it would then be six o’clock before we could again embark. <br/>When we landed at the beautiful little bay of Adrigoil, I felt so tired of the sea, and so apprehensive of another row to Castletown late in the evening, that I longed to find some conveyance by land. Except the pretty Glebe House, Adrigoil contains only a few scattered cabins, not one of which appeared big enough to shelter any animal larger than a pig. Ten miles, "only ten Irish miles," was stated to be the dis- [p. 58] tance to Castletown; but rather than encounter my bitter enemy, the sea, in the dark, and in an open boat, I said I would walk. This was declared to be impossible. [Vol. 1, p. 56-58]<br>[Continues with account of help received and agreable journey by horse and cart.]
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