The Irish Times is on the hunt for Ireland’s best visitor attractions, and we’ve asked our readers to help, by recommending great ways to spend a day in Ireland. Marie Monnelly will never forget a visit to the skelligs, off Co Kerry . . .
My family and I often talked of visiting Skellig Michael and we finally realised our dream last summer.
The sun beamed, the sky was brilliant blue and the water glistened as our boat departed from Port Magee. We bobbed along, enjoying a roller coaster sensation and Skellig Michael loomed large as we approached. It was dark with green patches, ominous in its Gothic majesty.
I was riveted by its rugged presence, its height and grandeur dwarfing our small boat as we docked at the pier in Blind man’s Cove.
A guide greeted us and warned us to take care as we ascended its precipitous steps, hewn from the bare rock by the monks who had come to live here from the sixth century onwards.
In single file we made it to Christ’s Saddle, and with a final push we reached the monastic settlement. I splayed my body upon a rock, tired but exhilarated, listening to another guide explain the history and lore of this incredible place.
We took photographs of the beehive huts and crosses and of ourselves framed by church windows with the ocean far beneath us. I felt the sea campion which carpeted bare rock and I saw a fledgling wheatear flutter on a hillock. I fed crumbs to a bold and beautiful herring gull which stood beside me, looking me straight in the eye as I snacked by the Wailing Woman stone.
But I had come mostly to see the puffins. It was nesting season so the females were deep in their burrows, hatching eggs. The males were on patrol, fearless, confident and magnificent in their full breeding colours.
We saw guillemots and razor bills standing on lower ledges near the restless sea. We were on the island for two and a half hours.
On the return journey, our boatman drew close to Skellig Beag, home to a gannet colony. Approximately 32,000 pairs live on this rocky outcrop. We watched those large and elegant birds glide and wheel high into the air and plunge like dive bombers to spear fish. The air was thronged with moving masses. .
As we departed from the Skelligs, I felt sad that such an outstanding adventure was over, but like Wordsworth in The Daffodils, the memory lights up my “inward eye”, and I often relive that heavenly day.
Marie Monnelly
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