Up on the Mountain: Part 2

I had another excursion in Ireland on a free day I had when the weather was nice, so I took a ferry from Schull Harbor out to an island off the coast called Cape Clear. It could not have been a more perfect day; in fact, I remember saying several times that it was the nicest day of my entire stay in Ireland so far, which was true. I joined some other tourists and Holiday-ers on the ferry and enjoyed about an hour ride across the blue sparkly waters. The tour was guided, so as I surveyed the coast land and other islands we passed along the way, I was well informed about history, interesting facts, and exciting tidbits. Some people tuned out our tour guide and took a nap, but I clung to every word he said, thirsty to learn so many intriguing things about all these beautiful places. We finally arrived at Cape Clear and pulled into a small harbor formed between two cliffs. The tour guide had told us that not many people live on the island (around 100 I think), but many people come to visit often.

After debarking the ferry, I followed signs into the little village on the island. I walked around a couple tiny shops and looked for somewhere to eat lunch. A small little pub a little further outside the main village caught my eye, so I went in to have a look around. The bartender was a guy from New Zealand who had come to work in Ireland for a year. He told me a little about the island and which places I should visit, so I decided to go see some before I ate. My first stop was the lake, only a fifteen minute walk from the pub. The path to the lake led me up a slight hill and through a very rural area, surrounded by nothing but grass, rocks, and a few houses off in the distance. Halfway through the walk, I stopped and looked around in shock. I could not believe where I was.

All through my hike, I had just been walking along, not really realizing what was around me. Once I finally stopped and looked at it for a minute, I felt like the luckiest person in the world. I was walking through rural Ireland, experiencing exactly what I have seen in the movies, exactly what I always imagined Ireland being like, and it was breathtaking. There was nothing particularly special or amazing about it, only the mere fact that I finally realized I was in Ireland. This was it. This was the full Irish experience - the land, the mountains, the green, the breeze, the birds flying overhead - everything anyone would imagine when thinking about Ireland, and I was standing right in the middle of it. What a phenomenal experience.

The lake was just as beautiful too, a small triangle of water with only a short line of trees and a small hill separating it from the vast ocean behind. On the ferry, the tour guide had informed us that this island was a great place for bird watching because many of the birds that lost their course during migration ended up on finding Cape Clear to land and rest on. As a result, there were tons of birds flying around over the lake and sea, every so often dipping down to fish some dinner out of the water. If I knew anything about birds, I probably would have appreciated more what I was seeing, but all I could do was look and think that they seemed pretty cool. From the end of the lake, there was an incredible view of Fastnet Island, home to a famous lighthouse signaling the small rock out in the middle of the ocean. It was only 9 kilometers away.

After my visit to the lake, I went back to the pub for some soup and salad. While I was eating, I made friends with some of the locals working and they eventually convinced me to try this nasty sea creature they were eating called a periwinkle. I told them I would only try it if they took pictures of me eating it. I think the pictures say enough for themselves:

Needless to say, it was pretty gross and tasted just like squid (NOT my favorite food), although I think it was a snail of some sort. 

Before I ran out of time, I wanted to make sure I saw the other half of the island, so I set out from the pub to walk up the hill on the other side of Cape Clear and discover what was over there. The bartenders told me that it was a long walk and I might not have enough time, so they suggested I cut through the mountain on a path that leads right over the top instead of walking along the road that goes all the way around. I set out up the steep mountain road, keeping an eye out for this somewhat hidden path. Out of all the hills and mountains I have had to climb up since being in Ireland, this one was by far the hardest. There were points when I actually considered walking backwards because it might lessen the incline, but I pushed on, reminding myself what a good work out it was. The hill plateaued at the top and continued on a flat level for awhile, allowing me to catch my breath. Eventually I found the path over the top of the mountain and steered onto it, not knowing where it would take me. At first I was led through some trees and a foresty type area. As the trail progressed, the trees cleared and I was left on a small dirt path surrounded by shrubbery and greenness. I paused and turned around to see an ancient castle lining the edge of the mountain in front of me. Only in Ireland... 

The farther up I climbed, the windier it got. I climbed higher and higher and higher, until all of a sudden it got so quiet. I looked below to see all the houses and roads and farms, but I could hear nothing. Nothing except the gentle hum of nature... gusts of wind through the trees, birds calling above, the chirp and buzz of locusts and bugs. I was on top of a mountain, and I felt triumphant being part of the beauty all around me. 

Before I left the island, I made an excursion to see a castle everyone had been talking about. I had to cross fields, fences, bogs, and weeds to get there, but I knew I couldn't leave without seeing it. It's an ancient castle, perched on a cliff at the edge of one of the small fingers of the island, unable to be reached by foot due to the perilous waves and sharp rocks. But man was it cool to look at.  

I'm running out of words to use to describe the beauty and magnificence of all the things I have been able to see. They were all so beautiful, so grandiose, but there are just not enough words in our language to describe them (or at least not enough that I know). All I can say is that when I stood out on a ledge overlooking the crashing waves and the castle in front of me, all I could think of was Eowyn in Lord of the Rings when she stands in a paramount shot outside of her castle at the top of a mountain, blonde hair and white dress whirling in the wind. 

I tried to find a youtube clip with only that scene in the movie, but all I could find was a completely cheesy compilation video someone made with even cheesier music. The only part you should even bother watching starts at 23 seconds and lasts till about 35 seconds.

After fighting to stand my ground and not be tossed into the ocean by the violent wind, I scampered back down from the cliff I had been standing on and hurried back to catch the ferry. Completely tuckered out from all the hiking and steep climbing, I took a nap on the way home. :)

The next day, I had brunch with a friend that I met at one of the local pubs and we headed out to another part of Schull I had yet to discover and went snorkeling. Well, I didn't go snorkeling, but I took a really nice walk while my friend did. When it's only 65 degrees out and the water is quite a bit colder than that, there's no chance of me getting in. Plus, I didn't have a wet suit. Even still, I enjoyed the scenic drive to our destination and observing the whole process of how snorkeling works. I didn't realize there was so much set up that is involved, but maybe that's just when it's cold outside.

Driving up to the small harbor where the snorkeling took place, we came across one of my favorite views in all of Ireland. The road we were driving on, a single-lane dirt road like all the rest in the country, abruptly ended in front of us leaving nothing beyond it except an incredibly clear sea. It almost seemed to drop off into nothingness, but logic could overshadow illusion. Next to the road was a small, rickety fence, with ramshackle posts crookedly sticking out of the ground. Off in the distance, an old castle stood prominently on a hilltop. As my friend splashed through the water, I wandered up and down the roads, disappearing behind tall weeds and shrubs lining the lanes. It was a wonderful and refreshing way to start my morning.

Before traveling to Ireland, I looked at pictures from the Connell family's former au pair. In one of her pictures, I saw a cool white cone looking thing propped on a hill. I didn't know what it was, but I was excited thinking about the fact that I might be able to go visit it once I got to Ireland. After my entire month stay there, I still did not know where this white cone thing was or how to get there. During a conversation with Amanda one day, I told her that I wanted to go to a town on one of the other peninsulas called Baltimore, since I had heard really great things about it. Amanda said that would be a great idea and then mentioned the light beacon that I could visit while I was there. Even though I had never heard the proper name before, I knew that the light beacon she was referring to was the white cone I saw in the picture. I was thrilled that during my last week in Ireland, I would finally get to visit something I had been hoping to see for the last month and a half! 

I drove out to Baltimore, about 45 minutes away, with the windows down and the sun shining on my face. Since our little old "West Cork car" has no radio, I brought my iPod along so that I could jam to some tunes along the way. I pulled into the town of Baltimore and attempted to parallel park the car but failed miserably. Apparently I looked pretty pathetic, because a nice couple on the street offered to help me park. I took them up on it. After squeezing the car into an impossibly small space, I meandered through the town a bit, stopping to ask how to get to the light beacon. I found out that I could have driven up there, but it was a nice day so a leisurely walk seemed enjoyable. I walked about a kilometer or two, up a hill, following signs towards the light beacon. Along the way, I passed the harbor that was full of boats tied up, waiting for the next adventurer to come take them out into the shimmering ocean. Out at sea, sailboats were racing against the backdrop of rich, green mountains in the distance. Once again, I turned around and took in the view.

There's something about being up on a mountain. You feel exhilarated. You feel triumphant, a conqueror of steep slopes and burning legs. The world is at your feet, the beauty of the earth surrounding you. Any direction you turn leaves you in awe of the greatness around you and constantly reminds you of your meager, tiny size. And the wind is never lacking, provoking you to keep fighting for your position of victory, not to be dominated by that which is stronger.

I reached the top and finally fell right into the shadow of the light beacon, still pondering what its purposed and placement were on that mountain top. For one last time in Ireland, I stood out at the cliff edge (might I tell you that there was absolutely no protection or fencing lining the edge to prevent falls) and embraced the freshness of the Irish air. The moment didn't last long because in a matter of seconds I was already starting to feel a little queasy from fear of heights... but I felt quite fearless for actually having the courage to walk right up to an unprotected three hundred foot drop off! 

Up on the top of the mountain, there were a few trails to walk around. I had flip flops on and new that they weren't the best option for hiking, but I figured I'd try anyways. I took one step and fell flat on my butt. Unfortunately, my hand immediately went out behind me to brace the fall and was placed right into some kind of nasty Irish plant. After brushing off and settling myself for a few minutes, I looked down and realized my hand was not only covered in blood, but welts as well. And the closer I looked at the welts, I saw that each one had a tiny thistle or miniature thorn at the center of it. I had no idea if this was a poisonous plant or something terrible, but I tried not to freak out. I attempted to ask another family I came across if they new anything about plants in the area, but they turned out to be Spanish and not a whole lot of help. As I started the hike back down the road, I asked a woman with red hair pushing a stroller what it might have been. We ended up walking together and talking the entire way back. I learned that what I had was a common reaction of a nettle bush, some type of bush that is known to cause welts, thorns, and itchiness in people. Great. I guess if you're a country with no poisonous snakes or spiders and no poison ivy, you've got to have something that makes people miserable.

My hand cleared up fairly quickly and I continued my wanderings through the town. I walked through the main square area where everyone was outside eating lunch. Ironically enough, I ran into a girl I knew through Meg and a security guard I had met at Cape Clear a few days earlier (that one was pretty random). Right in front of all the main restaurants, a small castle had been built on a hill so I took some pictures and tried to check it out, but it was expensive. It was still great to see from the outside though!

I got back into my car, narrowly creeping out of the tight space I was parked in, and hopped back on the road home. Along the way, I saw a really cool looking castle in the distance and of course had to try and figure out how to get there. Sadly, I could never find a path to get there, so I never found the way. At least I still got a great picture of it though, a nice reminder to have of my last adventure in Ireland.