After renting a spiffy black Corsa, Sean and I set off for the Republic of Ireland’s west coast and the Aran Islands. There we caught a stomach churning, 50-minute ferry to Inishmore, the largest of the three islands. Home to those lovely Irish, wool, knitted sweaters and to such movies as “Man of Aran,” Inishmore is likewise renowned for its rugged landscape, blustery winds and rocks, rocks and more rocks.
While most tourists opt to take a tour bus, hop a ride on a horse cart or rent a bike to see the island, we decided to hike. Little did I know that the hike would be ALL uphill. Huff. Puff. Huff. Puff. Why is it that I never can find a taxi when I need one?
Our destination was Dun Aenghus, a semi-circular, prehistoric fort perched precariously on the edge of a 90-meter cliff. This was only one of several prehistoric sites on Inishmore but, as the others were even further away, Dun Aenghus was where we went. Fortunately, Dun Aenghus is reputed to be the best site on the island so my laziness didn’t impinge upon our activities too much.
Along the way to Dun Aenghus we stopped to have a picnic of white cheddar cheese, buttermilk wheat scones, apples and soda on one of the many flat rocks covering the landscape. As we ate, the wind picked up and the sky turned an ominous gray. Miraculously, the rain never came. That might be a first for us, Inishmore and Ireland.
Lunch finished, we trudged up the narrow, winding road, passing grazing cows and calves, sleeping baby goats, a horse and her foal, seals sunbathing in an inlet, ruins of an old church, two thatch-roofed houses, and, of course, the ever present rock walls. We also strolled past more than a few bicyclists pushing their bikes up the hill. Hey, at least I didn’t have to haul a bicycle — and me — across the island!
About a mile from the fort a tour bus driver stopped and asked if we’d like a lift. Would we ever! After over two hours of walking I was more than happy to accept that free ride. In less than five minutes we arrived at the admissions gate and the driver set off to pick up some paying tourists. Rats! Here I thought that he was driving us all the way to the top of the cliff.
From the base it was a 15-minute climb up a rocky path to the summit. There we had a breathtaking view of the island, ocean and all the poor souls struggling up to Dun Aenghus. We also explored the three concentric, stone circles that make up the mysterious fort, mysterious because no one knows who lived there or why there were only three sides to the structure. My guess about the latter is that part of the cliff fell away, taking the fourth side with it. Then again, maybe not.