Very few things in life make me feel small. And not just small – inconsequential. It is hard to stand at the edge of these cliffs and not be completely in awe. From the unpredictable weather to the 214 meter (750 ft) drop to the ocean below – these cliffs are a mother nature power trip.
The morning started early in Dublin. After dropping the in-laws off at the airport, Jared and I headed to pick up something which was the biggest source of anxiety in the weeks leading up to our trip – the rental car. As you’re probably aware, the Irish sit on the wrong side of the car and drive on the wrong side of the road. Jared and I developed a couple of rules of the road: (1) every time Jared made a turn I would yell “left”, and (2) if Jared veered too far left I would yell “curb check”. I’m pleased to say it was a success: we arrived in one piece.
The weather was misty and a bit windy. With scarves wrapped tight and hoods pulled down, we made our way up and out to the cliff path. On this day, we had the paths mostly to ourselves. A few groups of people would occasionally pass by, but once we got far enough away from the entry point, it was silent with the exception of the wind. We spent a couple of hours walking up and down the paths, marveling at the height of the cliffs and the sneaky pull of the wind. Over time, the rain started to fall a little heavier and the wind blow even stronger. The camera lenses took on a perpetual cloud that became harder and harder to wipe away. Soaked to the bones, we trekked back up the path to the safety and warmth of our car.