The horses and traps lining the road in the town centre are perhaps the most visible sign that things are not as they should be in Killarney this summer.
The drivers of the jaunting cars - known as jarveys - try to rustle up business from passers-by but with visitor numbers way down they'll need more than just slick sales patter to make a healthy profit this season.
Their cloth caps serve to keep off the rain on a damp Monday afternoon; even the horses look dejected despite the colourful carnations stuck in their bridles.
"It's a disaster," says Billy Tangney, looking over to where around 20 jaunting cars stand waiting to give tours of the area. "I have been doing this for 35 years and I've never seen business as bad. Never."
The cost of insurance for the season is €1,119. "Ridiculous," says Billy, who has been doing the job since he was 10 years old.
As we drive towards Killarney National Park - it's €30 for an hour-long jaunt through the rolling countryside with a stop at Ross's Castle - he motions to a ferris wheel that is being dismantled. "Sure there was no one to go on it," he says.
Once in the park, passing the breathtaking mountains and stunning lakeside scenery, he compares this year's season to times past. "Normally you would have crowds of walkers here," he says as we trot down a quiet country lane.
"We would be pulling over all the time to let other jaunting cars past."
Just then, a crowd of French students appears. "Bonjour," he shouts.
"At least there are still some people coming here."
The jarveys celebrated 250 years in business last season. "It's totally unique to Killarney," says Billy.
"The service started when men would go and pick up passengers from the train station." He points out the meadow where a love scene from Ryan's Daughter was filmed, before conducting a brief lecture on the lichen that covers the trees. "It only grows where the air is 90 per cent pure," he says.
The Killarney Races are being held next week, but even that event, says Billy, is of little consolation for his colleagues in the tourism industry.
"Since the breathalyser was introduced nobody stays around in the pubs afterwards. They all leave," he complains.
On the way back into town, he raises his hand to greet a man in a suit who smiles and waves back.
"That's the bank manager," says Billy.
"The way things are, I'll have to keep in with him."