Thursday 1 July 2010

Doolin, Clare

On Tuesday the rains had come so we decided to head south.

Talking it slowly we first made Clifden: the town has certainly exploded in the past few years. We paused for a cup of coffee in what had been the railway yard but was now a complex of apartments, shops, cafe, pub, hotel, museum, you name it. The yard must have had several multi-storey warehouses which have now been converted into apartment blocks. Looks very civilised now but despite their efforts it has completly lost the feel of a railway yard: the pub looks like the old station building but feels more like a theme pub rather than an historical building.

Continued round the coast heading south into the Gaeltacht from Maam Cross expecting to arrive at Spiddal to over-night in the campsite there. Nothing much has changed on this route: the barren limestone lanscape is still largely barren and limestone. The approach to Spiddal has seen some development but it looks most money has gone into the area after the town and the approach to Galway. Booked a date with Cath and Peter for lunch in the town on Wedneday.

The campsite here has suffered an influx of static vans like most of the touring sites we have seen so far. Not very pleasant though the rain likely didn't help. So miserable we paid for electric ostensibly to recharge batteries but I suspect it was as much so we could put on the telly and vegetate for a while. 'Spose Ireland ain't up to much when it rains in the country.

Next day, Galway - as always - was brilliant and seems to improve each time we visit. This time C&P took us to a little Bistro place near the Spanish Arch where we had a spectacular lunch. A mere description of Hake on a bed of rissotto does not come close to the wonderful flavours; I even gobbled up the salad to savour the flavour. Afterward we browsed the book shops to update our collection and finally set off about 4 o'clock heading for a site half-way down the Clare coast at Doonin.

Although we avoided the road through the Burren, prefering to follow the coast to Lisdoonvarna, the limestone landscape was still quite evident. Often the mountains were just plain grey stone. Fileds strewn with boulders of all sizes. Also, from the moment we entered Clare there were castles or monuments all over the place in various states of repair. I suppose with the vast quantities of stone just laying about, it was not necessary to pillage these old structures for building stone and they have just decayed at their own pace. Everywhere in Ireland must have had this or better density of Norman settlement; still, it is great to see the number of building that do survive.

We finally arrived at Doonin passing through the village right down to the hardbour where boats left for the Aran Islands - just about visible through the rain and mist - and the Cliffs of Moher further down the coast. The wind had picked up since Galway and there was a big sea buffeting the hardbour; all boats had been cancelled till Saturday though occasional ferries were scheduled to the island at least once a day (rather than multiple times even at this quieter part of the tourist season).

We had not intended taking a boat just now anyhow. Still we wandered about the harbour headland marvelling at the sea crashing onto the limestone rock; the wind whistling and howling about us even though the air had little of a chill. The power of the sea - at times eerily grey and frothing white - was truely awsome. Quite hypnotic watching the sea pour over the craggy outcrops and drain away with the persistent sounds and smell of ozone overloading our senses. We spent quite a while just watching the sea and opted then for Nagle's camp site right beside the harbour (rather than the one inland at Doonin itself - handier to the pubs). It was a good choice though as it must be the best site we have ever visited and amazingly only rated 3-stars with fee accordingly low.

After settling down and a bite to eat we could barely wait to get out for a walk along the coast and experience the sea again. Although the effects of the sea on the limestone were quite obvious by the pier, as we walked round the headland more, the nature of the Karst scenery was even more evident. Clints and grikes forming a fractured limestone pavement stretching in all directions. Some of the cracks were quite deep sucking me in at least once - painfully so - not watching where I was going. Most of the gaps were full of various plants huddling together for shelter and barely putting the flowery heads above the pavement. Other evidence of weathering were the round holes often with broken edges where pools had dissolved the rock. By now it was well almost 11 and getting dim with pinkish hues hinting at better weather tomorrow.

Next day we headed for the Cliffs of Moher. The site includes a visitor centre and O'Brien's Tower - an 19th century version of a visitor centre built by the local family landowner. The modern visitor centre is quite impressise with some interesting displays and a "virtual reality" room: basically a video display trying to create a 3D experience in air (flying with the birds), an land *nesting with the birds) and underwater (following adiving bird then swimming with seals, whales, sharks, dilphins, etc). It almost works really well, at times causing vertigo unfortunately more because of the conflicting imagery rather than the virtual motion. A rather odd distraction was details of the first ever submarine designed by a local engineer rejected by the British Navy but taken up by the US Navy.

The building itself is mostly buried into the hillside with an entrance and wall constructed of layered limestone; quite the local fashion in building and decorative stone work in many of the local building. Very attractive it is too: the locally quarried limestone is quite dark in colour and not at all grainy like a sandstone or chalk. But it does split well into long paving slabs or narrower brick shaped stones. Even inside the centre, the stone is evident especially in the sky light to the museum part which forces its way through the hillside.

Outside, the extensive path, retaining walls and guidestones leading from the centre to the 3 viewing platforms all use local stone in various ways: the stone use to build O'Brien's Tower, the paving around it and on the main paths, the kerb stones on the edge of steps here and there are a darker stone riddled with white fossils all brightly polished by wear and or weathering, dry stone boundary walls and finally big slabs mounted vertically at the cliff edge.

Not a glorious day to see the site but after an hour or so in the visitor centre and the weather had calmed a little to allow us to get a decent view. In some respects, the wind and threatening sky suited the wildness of the cliffs; certainly discouraged everyone from approaching to close to the edge.

The grey day made it difficult to get decent photographs though. Looking south along the cliffs the final headland with its Napoleonic lookout tower almost disappeared in the mist of rain and sea spray combined. At their tallest, the cliffs are over 700 ft from base to cliff top (at O'Brien's Tower) and none of the photos do justice to the sheer scale of these cliffs - the tallest in Ireland. Watching the lumpy sea batter the foot of the cliffs with the huge sea spraying high into the air looks rather tame at this distance but in reality, sometimes the sea must have been splashing over 100 foot into the air especially in some of the coves already carved into the cliff with caves and stacks towering out of the sea.

There are several large stacks remaining from rock falls but the biggest crag is Goat Island, Between it and its enclosing cliffs are ideal habitats for the many sea birds wheeling above our heads in the wind and occasionally splashing into the sea to catch a fish. This location is reckoned to be the largest colony of puffins  on the mainland of the British Isles; I suppose that rules out both Lundy and Rathlin. Unfortunately it is not possible to see down to the foot of the crag and most of the birds are lost to view. Now and again it was possible to spot the energetic flapping of a puffin buzzing the surface of the sea as it raced away from the island.


The next day we took a bike ride up to the nearest Norman tower-house. The approach road was too narrow for the van - or so the signs said. It was quite a steep climb and disappointingly the tower is currently in use as a private residence so we could not get closer than the gate. We continued along the hillside for a bit to catch amazing views over the harbour. With a clearer day it was just about possible to see the lighthouse and dwellings on Insheer, the smallest of the Aran Islands. In the photo the wild sea can be seen as almost completely white as it rages aroung the headland protecting the harbour. The villages of Fisher Street and Doolin can be made out too but above them a solitary white wave towering into the sky; this must have been an enormous wave.


Although this was the best site we would encounter on the trip, we decided to move on hoping the weather would hold and we could find a beach for the canoe. Passed through Lahinch just after the cliffs and it did have a fine beach with huge breakers encouraging surfers. We continued on, passing through Dunbeg, Kilkee and eventually arrrving at Kilrush to catch the ferry over to Tarbert in Kerry. The drive was uneventful with the landscape deteriorating reminiscent of the poorer parts of Lewis. Indeed, Scotland was seldom far away from our thoughts as various aspects of last years trip were often reflected in the scenery we saw on this trip.

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