Ireland – Writing With My Mouth Full

Biking to Maghera Beach and to Sligo (2004 Archives)

At first I doubted that my body could do a second bike tour–cold and wet while fighting strong winds and pedaling downhill. When I saw the itineraryâ€”fifteen miles from Glencolumbkille to Maghera Beach, passing through Glengesh Passâ€”I was prepared to accept the helpful van rides along the bike route. But it was probably our guide Johnny Daly’s infectious laugh that brought the sun out the morning of our first meeting in Glencolumbkille. For the first time during my week-long trip to Ireland, I thought that the sun would stay out, and it actually did!

From Millstone B&B, I biked on concrete and dirt tracks, passed by flocks of sheep, and had an amazing view of open bog, dotted only by a handful of small houses and miles and miles of dry stone walls. At times, I stopped to take photographs or to stay out of the way of some of the most aggressive sheep I’ve ever encountered. (I still laugh every time I think about how they tried to scare me off track!) Only once did I have to walk my bike, and that was uphill near Maghera Beach.

We walked the rest of the way to the dunes and the caves of Maghera. The slabs of quartzite rocks were spectacularâ€”a testament to the power of erosionâ€”and the water was calm enough to let us walk on rippled sand.

Irish Cycling Safaris is unlike any other bike tour because you’re not forced to bike with a group. Much like Irish Cycle Tours, I was handed a map with directions to follow, and I was free to bike at my own pace. It was during this bike tour that I was able to experience quiet time, allowing myself to appreciate and take in Ireland the way I never expected after the first few days of mist and rain.

The Glencolumbkille Pilgrimage and the Slieve League (2004 Archives)

I’ve always been turned off by tour guides because from what I’ve experienced, they talk like broken records and they really just do it because it’s their job. Enter Sean Mullan of Walking and Talking in Ireland. He has been walking the walk and talking the talk for about five years, and it showed. Tours turn into experiences when you’re accompanied by someone who actually has a passion for the place you’re visiting. There are new lessons learned when your guide can answer every question you have without consulting any prepared speeches. Sean Mullan opened my eyes to this country I knew nothing about. An enlightening two-day tour, Walking and Talking in Ireland made me wish all tour companies operated Sean Mullan’s way.

We hiked Slieve League on the West Coast of Donegal, the highest sea cliffs in Europe known not only for its elevation but also its color: a range of brown to rust to orange and beautiful shades of green. Right from the beginning of our hike, we had an inspiring view of the cliffs, displaying miles of quartzites and slates that make up the mountain. We walked by unusual stacks of rocks known as the Giant’s Desk and Chair while the waves violently crashed against the cliffs thousands of feet below us.

From where we stood, we saw other groups continuing the hike along One Man’s Path to the summit. The Atlantic Ocean stretched miles beyond what our eyes could see. At times, I had to be careful when taking photographs because of the strong winds, but the hike was as exhilirating as anyone can imagine. Sean Mullan let us take in the viewâ€”a view I thought only the top of Waimea Canyon in Hawaii could provide. Thankfully, I was proven wrong.

We also traced the pilgrimage of one of Ireland’s three patron saints, Colm Cille, or St. Columba, believed to have driven away the demons of Donegal from the valley to the sea around 500 A.D. Gleann Cholm Cille, or Glencolumbkille, translates to the “valley of Colm Cille”, and every 9th of June, devotees stop at fifteen stations along the north side of the valley to touch the ancient inscribed stones and marked iron plaques for penance. We stopped by an old church and paid our respects at the small cemetery outside.

Among our other stops were the Folk Village Museum and the Napoleonic Tower. The Folk Village Museum exhibits rural Donegal lifestyle and was started by a local priest named Father James MacDyer in the 1950s. He provided jobs to the locals by encouraging them to set up craft cooperatives. It sells local wares and souvenirs and also houses the Tea House, where we took a break after walking along the beach. The Napoleonic Tower was built by the British to protect their country from an invasion by France through Ireland. The hike up to the tower took only under two hours, but we stayed a few extra minutes to rest and watch the sun go down. In true Irish fashion, we witnessed a dark cloud pour rain over the valley below us while we were simultaneously enjoying the soft glow of the afternoon sun on top.

Biking from Ballycastle to Portballintrae (2004 Archives)

We spent our first night in Ballycastle. During dinner, Ian from Irish Cycle Tours stopped by to introduce himself. The next morning, after my first Irish “brekkie” of bacon, eggs, grilled tomatoes, and black and white pudding, we biked from Ballycastle to Portballintrae and made our first stop at the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge off Ballintoy.

For my first bike tour ever, I was pretty surprised (and pleased) that all I had to do was rideâ€”I was free to follow the map that was given to me and pedal at my own pace. Everything was provided for, including a helmet and a small bag for our cameras and water bottles. The map mentioned a mile of uphill biking, but it failed to say that the next four miles had more than a dozen smaller hills! I was forced to walk my bike most of the time because I was not prepared for a full workout. My big Irish breakfast just went through me. The weather did not make it any easier; rain pelted my face, my raincoat was soaking wet against my back, and I was fighting 65-mile per hour winds. We were all pedaling downhill to make it to Carrick-a-Rede, which became the trip’s joke for the next seven days. I was disappointed with myself for not being strong enough to bike the entire way. I felt better, though, when I realized that no one in their right mind would push on with that weather, but I did!

From the parking lot, I had to walk about a mile downhill to catch a glimpse of the rope bridge, only to be stopped by one of the National Trust guards because of the strong winds. I saw how high and angry the surf was thousands of feet below, and it was probably best that they’d closed the gates. I walked back uphill to meet the rest of the group for tea instead. During tea, we all rested our butts off and read about Carrick-a-Rede. The rope bridge is eighty feet above the sea, and it provides access to the tiny island across the chasm for salmon fishermen. Carrick-a-Rede translates to “rock in the road,” the road being the sea migration route of the salmon. Across is Puffin Island, which supported a colony of puffin birds but has since been renamed Sheep Island because it was used to graze sheep after the birds moved on. We also saw from afar Rathlin Island, which is still inhabited by less than a hundred people whose ancestors have resided on Rathlin for hundreds of years.

The weather was not getting any better, so we all decided to give up our bikes and end our bike tour. We stored them in Ian’s van and instead drove by what is left of Dunseverick Castle, a castle from the 1500s said to have been visited by St. Patrick. We could have seen other small ruins on the island, but the call of a pint of Guinness was louder than any other tourist stop around us.

Hiking the Mourne Mountains (2004 Archives)

After a couple of hours of sleep in a hotel in Dublin, we set off for the Mourne Mountains in Newcastle. Martin McGuigan met us for tea and sandwiches to talk to us about Walk on the Wild Side and to tell us about the day’s itinerary. He has been running his company for about three years, but he has been involved in outdoor activities all his life. Who better to take you to walk up the Mourne than an active Northerner?

It had been drizzling on and off, so we made sure we packed our raincoats. During our drive, Martin sang the famous Mountain of Mourne song for us by Percy French. It was very appropriate because our drive along the coast consisted of dips and uphills, allowing us to catch a glimpse of the small-town lifestyle against the Irish Sea. I had a smile on my face when he was singingâ€”it was what I expected from the people I was to meet during this trip. I hadn’t been in the country for more than twenty-four hours, and I was already pleased.

We started our hike along the Bloody River, and Martin talked to us about the Mourne. Its highest peak is called the Slieve Donard, and it goes up to about 2,700 feet. The mountains only occupy a small part of the county of Down in Newcastle, but there are over twenty hikes to be done in the area, from short walks and strolls to longer treks. The Mourne is also known for the dry stone walls that encase the two reservoirs in the Silent Valley, which provides water for most of Northern Ireland.

I saw my first rainbow in Ireland, but we did not make it too far up because the rain would not let up. We paused to share the cake and tea that Martin packed, and we began our descent back to our car.