The Cliffs of Moher

The dirt track that winds from
Doolin Beach up to the Cliffs of Moher
County Clare, Ireland

One day I was having breakfast with some of the others in the hostel and it looked like it was going to be an especially nice day (not as common as we might have liked). A Dutch guy who spoke almost no English asked (with the help of another Dutch traveler who spoke English) if anyone would like to take a walk up the Cliffs of Moher and a couple of us agreed to go. The group was Jens (the Dutchmen) who spoke only Dutch; Silvie, a French woman who spoke only French, and myself who could manage a little German.

The Cliffs of Moher
County Clare, Ireland

The Cliffs of Moher are a popular tourist attraction, with a road that winds out of Doolin leading to a lookout point on the top of the cliffs. There is another way to go though, which the owner of the hostel had recommended to us. From the beach at the end of the road that looks out toward Aran, start walking up through the cow pastures along the shore. The cliffs rise up slowly over the course of a couple of miles while you pick your way through numerous farmers pasture land (just remember to close any gates you open and repair any walls you topple so the sheep and cows don't get out).

Hurdling small streams
by the cliffs
County Clare, Ireland

The walk did take all day, but it was one of the most beautiful days of my life. Since we couldn't actually talk with each other in a single language the three of us said little all day. We pointed and made hand gestures, but exchanged few words. This gave the day an almost religious silence. The gradual rising of the land beneath our feet and the increasingly beautiful views around each corner was beyond words anyway, so it hardly mattered.

The abandoned farm house
County Clare, Ireland

At one point we came upon one of the many abandoned cottages which litter the Irish countryside; it's thatched roof long since fallen to the ground and rotted away, it's privy hole hidden somewhere in the tall grass nearby. Standing in the old front room of that cottage by the cold hearth I imagined the family who had lived there. Why did they leave and where did they go? More than likely their descendants are alive somewhere in America, Canada or Australia. The beauty of Ireland must only have intensified the homesickness those immigrants must have felt in the Irish ghetto slums they first came to in America.

Falling water blown in a circle
by the wind off the Atlantic
County Clare, Ireland

As we reached the top of the cliffs we marveled at the strength of the wind that blew in from the Atlantic and straight up the sides of the cliffs. I think we were crazy now, but we took turns holding each other from behind while we stood at the edge of the cliff, 800 feet above the surf crashing on the rocks below, and let our bodies fall slowly forward off the cliff only to have that wind push us firmly back to the land. I shudder that I could have done something so foolish as to lean my 200+ pound frame out over certain death for the wind to hold up, but on that day it made perfect sense.