Ireland: Zoe Nelson (Everyday and Favorite Places)

Program: University College Dublin Business, Fall

Early on a Saturday morning, the trains are still quiet. They rumble through Dublin and out towards the coast, heading to the small town of Howth. Howth was once an island in Dublin’s bay but now connects to the mainland through a sandy isthmus. The sun gleams off the water as we pass by.

The train drops you off in the heart of Howth. It’s a fishing village, and when you listen, you can hear the sounds of the day’s catch being hauled up. Seagulls wait patiently along the docks, hoping to snatch a bit of fish whenever the fishermen turn away. The smarter birds fly across the street to the row of shops and restaurants to steal tourists’ fish-and-chips baskets. They eye me hopefully as I pass by.

In the harbor, boats cruise in and out, their brightly painted frames practically glowing against the blue of the water and sky. After a few minutes, I notice even more exciting guests: a pair of seals moving between the boats. They poke their heads up to watch before diving back under.

With that, I set out for what I originally came to Howth for: the cliff walk. Howth has four trails of various lengths that take you along the rugged coastline, treating its guests to a variety of sights along the way. I’ve chosen the Bog of Frogs loop, the longest of the four. It’s about 12.5 km and goes across most of the peninsula’s coastline before cutting through the center back towards the start. You start in town before climbing upwards. The view of the coastline and accompanying lighthouse is remarkable. It’s a clear day, a rare sight in Ireland. I’m not the only one enjoying the sun, and I find myself talking with many of the people hiking by. Everyone is chatty and happy, buoyed by the great weather and even better scenery. Some parts of the coastline drop away steeply, while others sink down into beaches. I find myself taking picture after picture, trying to remember every inch of it.

From one point, you can see Dublin’s industrial district, which rests on the edge of the city. After that, the hike begins to curve back inward, cutting across the middle. The view changes from cliffs and oceans to pastures and forests, all while following the little purple arrows that serve as my guide. At several points, free-range goats and sheep wander by. With one final curve through a golf course, the hike drops you back into the city. Colorful murals line parts of the path, highlighting the city’s past. Vikings, pirates, and other more mythological elements feature heavily. There’s a depth of history embedded within everything. You’ll pass by a building only to discover it’s been around for hundreds of years. It’s a very different feeling than a place like Madison.

On the last stretch of the hike, I did almost get mowed over by someone on an electric scooter. Some things, I guess, are the same everywhere.

The hiking in Ireland has been one of my favorite parts so far of the country. It blends the natural beauty of the island with its history. As you hike past castles and cliffs, you learn the battles and joys that shaped the land. And more than anything else, you get to meet the people. Many people from Howth were up on the cliffs, walking their dogs or hiking with their family. As soon as they heard I was visiting, they would give me recommendations on the best places to get fresh fish, and other hikes they liked. I ended up taking up their recommendations, and I have to say, I don’t know if I’ve ever tried better cod.            

I’ve always struggled to pick favorites when I visit new places. I think most things are worth visiting, each for their own reasons. Ireland has been no different. Already on this program, I’ve seen several cities, traveled across picturesque landscapes, and seen dozens of historical monuments. Castles, prisons, even Killamore Abbey, a beautiful estate run by nuns. But while these were all worth seeing, the Howth hike was particularly special. It felt like the spirit of the country: beautiful yet rugged, ancient cliffs and castles against the fresh growth of green. I find myself watching it shrink as the train pulls away, smaller and smaller until it’s hidden once more.