Tag: Cliffs of Moher

A Tale of Two Natural Sites: Cliffs of Moher and Hill of Tara

Looking online, it seems that whatever tiny town in the most remote region of Ireland you find yourself in, you can take a day trip to the Cliffs of Moher. I’m kidding, but just barely.

It makes perfect sense, because the Cliffs certainly provide a breathtaking backdrop (literally, if you’re not careful) to any trip to West Ireland. This summer, Marilynn and I met Atlanta friends for a weekend in the West. We spent that week in Galway: Marilynn in the University of Galway library and me in the university swimming pool. A two-hour bus ride along some of the tiniest roads on the Island brought us to Lisdoonvarna, where we stayed at the Rathbaun Hotel, which we highly recommend.

The hotelier told us about the free seasonal shuttle the Cliffs operates to relieve vehicular congestion around the site, which includes free admission. Our friends drove from their accommodations in a nearby town and parked free in Lisdoonvarna, then we all piled onto the shuttle, which saved us $55-plus in total.

Regardless of the time of day, time of year, pissing rain, dense fog, locusts or whatever else Mother Natures throws your way, the Cliffs of Moher will likely be the highlight of your Ireland trip. This time the weather was clear and the grass along the top as green as I’ve ever seen it in three total visits (see contrasting photo from our 2017 visit). The views are dramatic and well worth the effort required to get there.

Two slight quibbles from a veteran visitor, however. One, the paths in either direction along the Cliffs have been severely reduced, which corrals visitors into an ever-smaller space. The reasoning is solid, because two people fell to their deaths in 2024, and longer paths were closed until trails could be made safer. Formerly, one could walk from Doolin along the Cliffs all the way to the visitor center, a hike but worth it to those who didn’t want to pay the entrance fee.

As a result of the safety concerns, bollards and appropriate signage have been put up in certain places to deter visitors from straying close to the cliff edge. My second quibble concerned the idiots who ignored the signs and crossed over, along with those who ignored the signs about not flying drones in the area.

Let’s respect the rules, everyone.

Hill of Tara Amid the Raindrops

No problems with crowds on our package day trip to the Hill of Tara and thereabouts in County Meath, about an hour drive north of Dublin. The site dates from the Neolithic to the Iron Age and includes a ceremonial avenue, burial mounds, round towers, a passage tomb (Mound of the Hostages) and a standing stone believed to designate a true king of Ireland.

(Left: Not a few you’ll get.)

I discovered the Hill of Tara in a small book in the sitting room at the Rathbaun Hotel and was particularly taken by the aerial photographs of the site. To my disappointment, walking the grounds does nothing to reveal the topography, much like walking through a corn maze does not reveal its larger pattern. However, Marilynn and I enjoyed the day, despite wet fields and the constant threat of rain.

It wouldn’t seem phallic if not for that head.
Church of St. Fechin
Trim Castle

The views from the top were obscured by low-lying clouds, so we’ll have to take the word of our tour guide that one can see for miles in any direction. Marilynn had a go at the Lia Fáil (Stone of Destiny), and it’s no surprise that it didn’t cry out for her as a true king.

Other sites of the day trip included:

  • Trim Castle, a preserved Anglo-Norman castle best known for its role in “Braveheart.”
  • Loughcrew Cairns, Neolithic passage tombs that date to 3,000 B.C.
  • Fore Abbey, where St. Fechin founded a Christian monastery in the 7th century. The ruins include St. Fechin’s church, which dates to about 900.

A Soggy (Though Glorious) Time Had by All

When we last parted, gentle reader, it was pissing rain in Cork. While bouts of rain continued to pelt us over the next several days, we soldiered on with single-night stays in Dingle and Doolin, before hitting Newgrange on the way back to Belfast on Sunday.

I never thought I’d think this, but the Cliffs of Moher could have been a bit more overcast. While the UNESCO heritage site is among the most beautiful things I’ve ever laid eyes on, it’s even more stunning through a bit of cloud. Marilynn and I last visited here with Walker in 2002, and it was on our short list of things to show Declan during our trip.

Back in Cork, though, the rain was driving down amid 20-plus mph winds when we headed out to eat Thursday night. We waited as long as possible before leaving, but hunger prevailed. By the time we got to the restaurant, our trousers were soaked from jacket bottom to knees. I tried to dry my trousers using the hand dryer in the bathroom, to little avail. The tapas meal was among the best I’ve ever had, but that’s fodder for a future column.

The Ring of Dingle

Hiring the car allowed us the leisure to explore after Marilynn’s talk in Cork. Rather than drive the Ring of Kerry, which I hear is beautiful but is also too touristy for our tastes, we went to the Dingle peninsula, staying in Dingle Friday night.

The drive along the ocean was stunning, and very, very treacherous. At least the road was paved, in sharp contrast to our last vacation to Flagstaff when Marilynn wanted to take the Apache Trail from Phoenix instead of the interstate. As the single ribbon of increasingly rough asphalt turned to gravel and sand (for the next 23 miles, the sign said), two things happened simultaneously: 1) the mountainous road became more twisty; and 2) the dualie pickups hauling boats started appearing around what seemed to be every bend.

So, pavement good. But straining to see around every curve from the wrong seat in the car while grasping the steering wheel with enough force to bend iron (and in the rain, nonetheless) not so good. However, we arrived in one piece and even managed to snare an ocean view room at a local hotel.

On Saturday morning, we drove the “ring of Dingle,” which is what Marilynn called it. Officially, it’s the Slea Head drive, a 50-kilometer loop that goes through Dingle. Our name is better, though. The ocean views were gorgeous, and in most cases we had the road (and the sights) to ourselves. One of the highlights was the Gallarus Oratory, a 1,300-year old triangular stone worship building that remains watertight despite the lack of mortar between the stones.

Natural, man-made wonders await

Then we drove to the Cliffs of Moher, a dramatic cliff face worn away by millions of years of ocean wind and rain. It’s truly beyond words, as breathtaking as the Grand Canyon in its own way. So I’ll shut up about it.

And then yesterday, we stopped by Newgrange, also a UNESCO heritage site. It was built an estimated 5,200 years ago and features intricate Irish swirls and patterns that still inform art today.

It’s only a guess what went on there, our guide says, although a few sets of bones were discovered when the site was excavated, strengthening the argument for religious temple. The most distinguishing feature of Newgrange is its alignment with the winter solstice. A light box above the entrance is perfectly aligned with the horizon, allowing sunlight to enter the temple at sunrise for about six days around the winter solstice. When that occurs, the chamber is awash in light, our eager guide says, shining off the walls in the alcove farthest away.

Newgrange is a feat of neolithic engineering for not only the know-how required to move massive kerbstones from more than 12 kilometers away and create a watertight structure but for the precise measurements required to capture the morning light of the winter solstice.

Two awe-inspiring, renowned ancient wonders in two days. Not a bad way to end a trip to the south and west of Ireland.

About the photo: Cliffs of Moher, nearing sunset on 1/28.