THE CLIFFS OF INSANITY

Otherwise known as Aillte an Mhothair, or the Cliffs of Moher.  I considered calling this blog 50 Shades of the Cliffs of Moher and then posting the 50 photos of the cliffs that I took as the weather changed from overcast and windy to rainy and windy, to sunny and windy, and back to overcast and windy with a bit of rain here and there. But I might disenfranchise my 5 fans if I did that, so decided to tell a story instead. 😊

If you are familiar with The Princess Bride movie (and if you aren’t, we can’t be friends), this is where Fezzik, played by Andre the Giant, hauls his two partners-in-crime and Princess Buttercup up the side of a rugged cliff from the ocean below. The Cliffs of Moher are also featured in the cave scene in Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince where Dumbledore weakens himself to acquire a horcrux which turns out to be fake. (I'm assuming it's too late for a spoiler alert.)

Of course, the Cliffs of Moher have featured prominently in Irish tourism much longer than either of those movies have been around. Millenia, in fact. Squillenia, if it comes to it.  The simple story is that somewhere around 320 million years ago, layers of sand and silt were compacted into the sedimentary layers of shale and sandstone that make up the Cliffs of Moher.  The cliffs rise at about 120 metres (390 feet) above the sea at Hag’s Head point and reach a staggering height of 214 (702 feet) at O’Brien’s tower at the other end.  The cliffs run for approximately 15 kms end to end and are a sheer drop from the top. Unless of course, you are at the wrong spot and hit the sea stack on the way down.

We were repeatedly advised to see them from the water, so booked ourselves on the Doolin Ferry Co. boat to do just that (photo of the ferry taken from their website). The power of the Atlantic Ocean heaving and swelling under us meant we not only got a tour, but a carnival ride too!  As far as I know, everyone made the journey without any heaving of their own.  We boarded the vessel at the pier and saw the Aran islands on our way out.  The turnabout point was Hag’s Head and from there the tour guide told the story of the cliffs (as noted above).  I still don’t see the Hag’s Head, even though he explained it. Perhaps I just didn’t want to be compared.  There is also a massive sea stack, formed by the ocean eroding the rock into an arch. Eventually, the arch weakens and drops into the sea, creating a standing stack of stone that will continue to be whittled away by the wind and waves.  We were once more awe-struck by the power of nature and the sheer magnitude of the cliffs. 

A fort was built at Hag’s Head sometime in the 16th century, but was eventually dismantled in the early 1800s to provide some of the material for building a series of watch towers along the cliffs. England, who was in control of Ireland at the time, was afraid Napoleon would use Ireland as a path to invade England.  If a French fleet appeared, the watchman could light a fire at the top of the tower, which would alert the next tower, who would light a fire there, and so on, so that troops would be prepared for battle.  That never happened, but the remnants of a tower or two remain.  It would seem logical that O’Brien’s Tower, located at the highest point of the Cliffs of Moher would have been built for the same purpose. The truth is that it was built by the landlord of the area in 1835 as an observation point for tourists and continues with that purpose today.

Having been impressed from below, we sought to be as impressed from above, so made our way to the visitor’s centre to walk the tops of the cliff.  There is a large, paved viewing area with lots of steps and stunning photo ops from O’Brien’s tower to the Aran Islands and the lengths of the Cliffs of Moher. I was fascinated by the fossilized coral and shells in the stones of the steps and had to keep stopping and taking a photo.  The massive slate slabs lining the trail also had fossil evidence, having been a sea bed at some point. In many of them, you could see the wave pattern from the water that shaped the sand before it was compressed into rock.  A long, winding path leads the intrepid hiker along the 9 km trail to Hag’s Head.  It is definitely an “L” path, bordered on one side by the aforementioned immense vertical slate slabs to encourage folks not to wander onto the cliff’s edge, and on the other by a farmer’s barbed wire and electric fence!  As with “L” roads, it is single file only at many points, though it is unavoidable that at some point, you will have to pass others coming the opposite way.  The fence wasn’t actually electrified, but it was terribly tempting to wait for a large group coming the other way, step aside to the fence and yell and jerk convulsively as though being electrocuted.  On the other hand, someone might have been scared out of their wits, jumped over the slate slabs in alarm and fallen into the sea, and I would be responsible. I therefore restrained myself. 

Yours truly being fairly out of shape, the hike was reasonably rigorous with lots of uphill and downhill, so we turned around at the halfway point and headed back down. At the bottom of the cliffs there is a visitor’s centre and a few gift shops built into the side of the hill.  It is pretty neat and I wandered through but resisted the urge to pick up swag. Particularly since I didn’t make it out of the picturesque little town of Doolin on the way in without dropping a fair few euros on a sweater from the Aran Islands.

We arrived back in Croom and stopped at the local grocery store for an oven supper. There, by the front door, ensuring I would see them on the way in, the big meanies had oreo-filled donuts, and jam-filled donuts, and chocolate-filled donuts. I spent a good 48 seconds deciding on the chocolate-filled ones. Then home to have dinner (yes, I waited for dessert) and put our feet up while Nature decided to reward our strenuous day with a gorgeous sunset across the back yard. The reminder that the world will turn and the sun will rise and set no matter the problems of mice and men.