Of course there are many more terrific restaurants, such as Out of the Blue, Ashe's, and the Chart House, all within a few minutes' walk of one another. And if you see crab thumbs offered anywhere, don't pass them up. Called órdógs in Irish, which translates as thumbs, these are plump crab claws that arrive shelled, with the small pincer still intact to serve as a kind of handle with which to eat these butter-soaked nuggets. Better than any stone crab I've had—better than any crab I've had, period. And Dingle is a lovely walking town, with a terrific bookstore and Dick Mack's, a pub with an extensive selection of both whiskeys and rain boots, all across from St. Mary's church and around the corner from another pub, Foxy John's, that doubles as a hardware store. Have a sandwich or some cheese from the Little Cheese Shop, then stroll down the road to Murphy's for some butterscotch or gin-and-tonic ice cream, made in Dingle from the raw milk of Kerry cows. It's fabulous. But even the Texaco here has good food. Yet to drive the peninsula is to be reminded that this is an ancient place as well, with ruins and beehive huts dating to the sixth century a.d., and the hillsides are visibly ridged with the former potato rows, now referred to as famine fields.