I had the joy of growing up in the Glen of Aherlow, a childhood shaped by a soft kind of freedom, long days spent roaming fields and boreens in a place that felt sheltered from the wider world, rich in local lore and small discoveries, where wandering without purpose was a pursuit in itself.
It came as no surprise to me to hear that the Lonely Planet had included my heartland in their list of the world’s top 25 places to visit in 2026, describing the Glen as a “ridiculously scenic valley flanked by the Galtee Mountains and Slievenamuck.” Hiking the trails which ribbon the vale was cited as the best way to experience it.
Yet, to my shame, I had never formally followed one of these routes, so when I was invited to go on an amble with a veteran guide from the Aherlow Winter Walking festival, it felt like serendipity.
I journeyed back into the Glen pre-dawn on an icy January morning with a little trepidation. This time last year, heavy snowfall had isolated parts of the valley , rendering the roads impassable for days and cutting off the local community from the rest of the country. To venture onto its paths and mountain tracks at the most unforgiving time of year sounded, frankly, mad.
Yet, as I arrived, the low winter sunrise began filtering through rolling mist and illuminating frost-silvered fields in a lilac glow. With the land stripped back to its essence and the mountain peaks showing their snowcapped teeth it wasn’t just scenic, it was alive, and I was reminded again that the harder the challenge the richer the rewards.
The Walking Festival takes place on the last weekend in January, arguably the quietest time of year for tourism, but it is an event not built around spectacle or crowds, but rather around intimate local knowledge and the idea that winter, rather than being endured, might instead be deeply savoured.
Few embody that philosophy better than Mike Moroney, my guide for the day.
Now in his 70s, Mike has lived in the Glen his entire life. His family have been central to village life in Lisvernane, the small community at the heart of the valley, for generations. There is no better person to guide a walk here, not because he has memorised routes, but because he was the one who first trampled them.
I meet Mike at his home just before dawn where he invites me into his kitchen, a space less devoted to cooking than to the preservation of maps, guidebooks and walking equipment. Mike laughs easily as he finishes packing his rucksack; first-aid kit, GPS unit, snacks, water, torch, phone, and a collection of maps are placed inside with ritual care. Finally, with a grin, he adds his own personal indulgence, a can of Bulmers, which he insists he never hikes without.
Mike has walked all over Ireland and far beyond it. He loves the challenge of Carrauntoohil and has completed the grueling 90km Balluhoura way in a day no less than 11 times, but his favourite routes begin at his doorstep. “There aren’t many places where you can start in pasture and end up in proper mountain terrain on the same walk,” he says.
As a young man, long before gravel paths were laid or trails formalised, he often stumbled across ruins left undisturbed for centuries, known only to squirrels and working foresters. This morning, we set out to trace the route he will guide during the festival: the Three Dolmen Walk, a 21km, immersive journey that threads together archaeology, folklore and landscape.
The first stop on this walk is one of these tucked away wonders: Darby’s Bed is one of the most beautifully preserved dolmens in the country, its great capstone balanced so elegantly it could grace the cover of any ancient history tome. Though officially rediscovered and added to the tourism map in the mid-1990s, Mike had known its whereabouts long before, like many locals who encountered it quietly during their working days in the woods.
“It wasn’t lost,” Mike laughs, “it was just waiting to be noticed.”
The dolmen carries with it a rich seam of legend. Mike tells me that Diarmuid and Gráinne, eloping lovers of Irish mythology, are said to have slept here.
“Although,” he jokes, “there are about 40 thousand dolmens in Ireland and apparently they slept in every one of them, so that was some elopement.”
From here, the route weaves through forestry that periodically opens out into sweeping views over the nine peaks of the Galtee Mountains, before descending towards Moore Abbey, a place haunted with layers of history, some serene, others brutal, particularly those associated with Cromwellian times. Eventually, the path meets and follows the Aherlow River, from which the valley takes its name.
You cannot walk far in Aherlow without tripping over a fairy fort, a burial mound or a weathered standing stone, not the headline attractions, but less showy markers that reward attentiveness. It is, as Mike puts it, “a place that reveals itself slowly.”
By the time our muddy boots have carried us up into Slievenamuck’s woods, where we cross streams and climb stone stairs along the fairy trail near the towering statue of Christ the King, the mist has turned to droplets. Nonetheless, I am entirely convinced: winter may, in fact, be the best time to walk here.
The cold sharpens the senses. The mud and wind, rather than deterring, add some slapstick humour. Even rain, Mike insists, rarely dampens spirits; “sure if you’re not laughing, you’re doing it wrong.”
Mike likes to call it the “winter warmer festival” rather than a walking festival. He recommends good boots, proper layers, a torch, a flask and, with a wink, says there’s no harm in a discreet nip along the way if one is so inclined.
“It’s all part of it,” he says.
The festival, which has been running for over 25 years, reflects that spirit. Organised by locals, it offers a carefully curated range of guided walks over three days. There is an easy night walk to welcome people in, gentler lowland routes for those who prefer to keep their feet on firmer ground, and more demanding mountain walks, including the famous Galtee horseshoe, for experienced hikers. Each is led by guides deeply rooted in the area.
The new festival Co-Ordinator Hilary Wilkinson Hardwell describes it as less about ticking off distances and more about connection, to landscape, to history, and to one another. Winter, she says, strips away distractions.
“People talk more. They notice things. There’s a sense of achievement at the end of the day that you don’t always get in summer.”
That sense of reward is perhaps best captured at the festival’s base: the welcoming Aherlow House Hotel, a reimagined hunting lodge set among trees. With its intimate 30 rooms and open fires, it offers the simple luxury of warmth after effort — muddy boots left by the door like trophies, hands wrapped around steaming mugs of tea, or perhaps something stronger to thaw the bones. On a clear day, the view from the hotel stretches across forested slopes to the snow-dusted peaks of the Galtees beyond, a reminder of what has just been traversed.
As I leave the hotel later that afternoon, light already beginning to fade, I think again of my childhood here, of how much magic lay under my feet. The Aherlow Winter Walking Festival does not try to reinvent the valley or dress it up for visitors. Instead, it invites people to meet it on its own terms, at its quietest and most honest. Winter, it turns out, does not close Aherlow down. It opens it up, to those willing to willing to walk against the wind and listen.
The Aherlow Winter Walking Festival takes place over three days from January 30, 2026. Limited twin or double rooms in the Aherlow House Hotel are available at the special rate of €168 per night for 2 people including breakfast and dinner. For full festival details, walk descriptions and booking information, visit aherlow.com or contact Aherlow House Hotel directly at aherlowhouse.ie
