The Cliffs of Moher

Great day. Not necessarily weatherwise—when is it?—though rain seemed to hold off long enough for us to get a great view of the Cliffs of Moher.

The trip was a lot more than that, though: we had a hired bus for all 10 students, and Professors McCallister and Lyons joined us. Professor McCallister's wife and five kids, who are now in Ireland visiting their father, also tagged along. Our bus driver doubled as a tour guide, and mentioned historical tidbits about such-and-such castle as we drove by it.

We stopped first at a smaller castle, and then to the remains of one of the best-preserved stone circular forts built by inhabitants of Ireland during the early Bronze age. Not long after we stopped at the "Burrens," a craggy area stipped naked to the rock at the end of the last ice age, which also featured an iconic tomb.




Next, we drove around the scenic Galway bay (north of Limerick) and stopped to take photos. Lunching in Doolin, the town nearest the Cliffs, I ate a fantastic seafood chowder—big chunks of Salmon and other, all native fish, made the dish quite filling. I also had a couple King Prawns, which were equally fantastic.



We then hiked up to the Cliffs of Moher, which is quite the tourist attraction—Europeans of all stripes crowded around viewing points, and walking around we heard Spanish, German, Italian, some miscellaneous Slavic languages, and saw both Irish and British tourists as well. Not many Americans, though, except for a couple girls whose picture we took.

The cliffs, as the pictures suggest, were breathtaking—just an enormous cut off in the land, to a huge drop at the sea—like God had grown tired of making the island at once, and immediately moved on to another project. The official part of the area has a large wall separating you from much danger. On the other side, though—where, I'll admit, my pictures come from—there is a winding dirt path, ground down by so many feet, on "private property," allowing you to get a better look at everything. We took both paths. The unofficial part has no protecting wall or anything—it was quite scary in some parts, and would have been more so if the wind had kicked up like it apparently usually does. Not too many other tourists had much compunction in "trespassing." I suspect that the signs are essentially legal shelters, allowing the landowner to treat any drunk or careless person who nosedives off the side as a "trespasser" and therefore—assuming that, given Ireland's common law status, the law is relatively similar—a lower legal standard of care in tort.