Well, shit.

The problem with writing about a place like the Giant’s Causeway on the northern coast of Ireland* is that I started by looking back through my pictures. Pictures, of which, I snapped about a billion in a week in Ireland.

The reason for this? Everywhere I turned, there was something so damn majestic or pastoral or just teeming with romantic Irish badassness, that it would have felt positively sinful not to picture it. This describes most of Ireland. If you could possibly resist the fuzzy allure of the baby sheep or the haphazard stumbling-upon of castles, you would then have to reckon with the people.

Irish people will teach you some things about personality. A good chunk of the ones I’ve met are feisty and witty, talkative and charming but with serious, sensible tendencies. Or maybe I just so love the cadence and play used in their daily language, that I project those qualities on everyone there.  Either way, I have seriously enjoyed both my visits.

Therefore, I present to you Dunluce Castle / Giant’s Causeway in pictures. (I have tried to pare down the quantity, but I hope you will be sympathetic to the difficulty of the task.)


Scene: Sir Mao the Elder Gnome (Mao) and I so love our first night in the northern bits of Ireland, that we adjust our travel plans to spend an extra day there. With ferry schedule restrictions and one small afternoon to see Giant’s Causeway, we explore with furious excitement.

CASTLE ON A CLIFF OVERLOOKING THE OCEAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!

This was the dream house of my young imagination (though this one has slightly fewer ceilings and fireplaces). That little bridge right there…it used to be a damn drawbridge.

See – I’m not joking. It’s on a cliff. So much so, that signs said the kitchen fell off once, taking with it various kitchen staff. I say that’s a small price to pay for this location.

This is the view from one of my windows. Hello, picturesque cows!

This is the view from another window. Probably the window I would look for when I’m sailing back home from a long trip at sea.

And this is looking out from my collapsed kitchen. I think the fact that the walls fell off really just made for a better view.

My family crest highlights my skills of doing the hand jive, killing vampires, burning boats and riding sea creatures.

This is my taxidermied fox friend who is highly-skilled in surprising and terrifying shorter gnome-like people (like Mao).

The next photos are a 3-part zoom.

See those little humans on the pathway?

A spit of basalt columns (or Finn McCool’s path to Scotland)….


I believe that here, Mao, who has been admiring the ocean, castles, farmland and greenery, is commenting on how utterly ridiculous this place is. She is seeping happiness.

About to cross Lough Foyle on the ferry from Magilligan strand to Greencastle after a couple pints at the Point Bar. Yay us.

A quick stop here for fish and chips then back to the Sandrock Holiday Hostel.

Here’s a map of the jaunt. If you look at that map, please note the names of most of the towns….which we would read aloud off highway signs during our car trips. And there was much chuckling.

In conclusion, please join me next week for another destination from a list I have randomized of places I visited and then neglected writing about.


*Technically Northern Ireland, U.K.


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