A coastal diversion from the books
If I could pick Cavan up and situate it along the coast I would. Last Wednesday, after hefty debate, I decided to hop into the car and head for the west coast. There were many cons to my decision - the looming deadline for my English assignment chief among them (Unfortunately, my Raymond Carver essay will not write itself).
However, I decided I could do with some inspiration, or so I told myself anyway. The current price of diesel too was on my mind as I asked myself could I really afford to take a pointless 70-odd kilometre journey? Not really but, if I don’t fill up until morning when excise duty will be reduced, I won’t be too badly off. Mother nature also said no, as the day was dull and drizzly in Limerick. For once, Met Éireann was on my side as the weather in Kilkee was due to clear up, bringing a long and sunny evening. Talk about mixed messages, but this is my thought process for literally every decision I make.
So, after thorough consideration, I threw a few things into a bag and headed on my way. The four courts taunted me on the journey, showing prices of diesel at €1.98 per litre and even €2.20 in one place. Sure enough, the further west I travelled, the brighter it got to reveal a beautiful afternoon. At least some of the elements were in my favour. As I drove into the stunning seaside town of Kilkee, I couldn’t help but crane my neck out towards the water. Rolling waves and contrasting blues of the sea and sky for as far as you could see. What a place to live.
I parked my car at the Diamond Rocks café, which was closed for the winter months. One of my friends from college works here. Being a tourist hotspot, many businesses close for the winter months and will re-open for the peak season. My car was the only one in the carpark, but apparently from Easter break onwards you wouldn’t, as we say in Cavan, be fit to swing a cat there. I’m sure for the locals, the inconsistency in tourism is quite the annoyance but, for me, “the tourist” as my roommates now call me, it didn’t bother me in the slightest. I liked the idea of having the place to myself, with only a few locals and the odd dog in sight.
I embarked on the Kilkee Cliff Walk at around 3pm. I’m not completely irresponsible, I did make a start on my English essay before I left Limerick. The first thing I noticed upon arrival was how friendly everybody was. Even as I drove into the town, everybody smiled and waved. On the walk, friendly 'hellos' and even conversations. I can assure you, not one of these people knew who I was.
As I made my way along the path, I couldn’t believe how extraordinary the views were. Honestly, I couldn’t take 10 steps without stopping to take photographs, videos or simply just to stand in amazement. Slightly exerted from the upward trek, the light breeze and gentle spray of the water was warmly welcomed as was the promised sunshine. I couldn’t have picked a better day to do the walk.
Around 3km in, I came to a sign, which showed a blue and red arrow. Upon brief reading online before I left, I knew that there was a short route and a longer one. The shorter route went left, which was the red arrow if I remembered correctly.
It was at this point that my roommate facetimed me, wondering where the hell I was. After she got over her rage that I went to her hometown without her (I did ask but she had too many assignments) she told me that left would bring me back into the town. However, I hadn't my full fix of the sea and cliffs just yet, therefore I decided to go right. I walked along a quiet country road, only meeting about three cars along the way. The lane was along the cliff's edge and several times I ventured off (disclaimer: don’t walk off the track) for a better view of the sea arches and sea stacks. Never did I think the monotony of learning about coastal erosion could translate to this.
After what felt like half an hour along the Wild Atlantic Way, I looked down at my watch. I had been walking for eight kilometres. I checked maps on my phone, which had noted the location of the car. I could turn around the way I came or take a loop through the Clare countryside. I went with the latter.
I could almost guarantee you, a girl with brown hair, a green top and carrying a black coat is on every text alert in the county. Even though I still got a wave, a look of confusion crossed each face I met.
My walk finished up at Kilkee beach, where I was greeted with a beautiful sunset. The distance finished up at 17.2 kilometres. If you’re not into distance, don’t let this put you off.
There are shorter routes, I just got carried away and easily so. I cannot recommend the Killkee Cliff walk enough. The views are spectacular and I was truly in awe. I felt like a child at Christmas, you’d know Cavan was landlocked.
* Gemma Good is from Killeshandra and a second year journalism student in University of Limerick.
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