Howth: A Personal Adventure

Since I’m leaving again for Ireland in a few short days, I feel the need to wrap up the report of my last visit.

After a few days in the city, it was time for an adventure on my own on the outside. Howth is a favorite place of my friend Ronan, so he typed me up a set of directions and a map (which were quite amusing in and of themselves), and I set off on the train for the day.

I met some interesting characters on the train who took a liking to me, and there was fair chance they were crackheads. They also told me I was “very brown.” But this has very little to do with my trip to Howth, and is really just an amusing side note.

Now. Howth is a small little fishing town a few miles north of Dublin. I got off the train, and had awesome lunch that involved fresh shrimp salad on “Guinness bread.” It was more than excellent. Then I set off to the trail head that follows the cliffs of the coast all around a smallish peninsula.

Within a few minutes of walking, I was bursting with gratitude towards Ronan for sending me there. It was perfect. High, misty, green cliffs and a cold sea wind.

It was an overcast day, and there was a light drizzle, but I didn’t mind. In fact, at one point, a thick, white mist literally came rolling up the cliffs from the sea into the hills.

It was so goddamn beautiful.

Now in the amusing set of directions Ronan had given me, he warned me that peninsula was pretty big, and that I’d probably be better off walking to a point along the perimeter and then turning back. But I was enjoying the hike so much. Just to be out on my own, enjoying the hills, and getting the exercise. I kept thinking “just a little further, then I’ll turn back.” All the other hikers vanished eventually, and the isolation made it all the more appealing.

At some point, I had to cross a dirt road that led into what looked like a private finger of the jagged coast, with a little house on it. So I checked the map. Oops. I was about half way around.

So why the hell not? I’ll the walk the whole damn thing!

I kept going, and the scenery just got more and more beautiful. The light drizzle kept on, but the hiking kept me warm. Even there was always a distinct train lining the cliffs, the land seemed to get more and more private. I started passing lines of hedges and little fences and stone staircases and the like.

Then, after a looong while, my feet really began to hurt. It hit me that I was out here in the middle of nowhere, with no cell phone reception, alone, walking along sheer cliffs that dropped to rocks and a very cold ocean. Hmm. But questioning the intelligence of my decision to continue at that point was moot. I was more than half way around, and it only made sense to keep going. The scenery was still gorgeous, after all.

At one point, there was this incredible stone wall that ran for ages along the cliffs. It was made up of crushed seashells and mortar, and ran in a pattern as jagged as the coast itself. But by that point, I was nervous and wanted to move as quickly as possible, so I had put the camera away. I’m still kicking myself for it.

At some point, I finally saw a path that seemed to cut up into the hills. I decided that it must run into a road eventually, and took the chance. As I followed it, I ran into two elderly ladies that confirmed my suspicion about the existence of a road, but they said it was a bit of a walk. Fine. I can do that.

At that point, it started raining much harder, and I was getting quite wet. Finally, a real, honest-to-God paved road appeared before me.

…Ok. Now what?

I saw a man tending flowers in the back of a van, and approached him for directions. I told him I wanted to get to the nearest train station, and he informed me that it was actually in a different town than the one I started in. I had walked the distance between two fucking towns.

So I took off in the direction he pointed, in the now pouring rain. It was about two or three miles to the station. I walked, or rather trudged at that point, and I was sure my feet were about to fall off; they were certainly going numb. Finally, after what seemed like the longest damn walk of my life, I slouched down against the wall of the train platform and waited for it to come take me home.

The best part? It felt fucking great. I was beyond elated at the outcome of my adventure, and wouldn’t have had it any other way. Ronan collected me and we met the rest of the gang at the Longstone for beer and a huge platter of fried food. It was awesome.

The full set of Howth pictures is here.

Now I need to do it all over again, just so I can get a picture of that great wall. :)