Downpatrick Head. In the far northern reaches of County Mayo. Not too far off the main road. A simple walk from the car park. Only fifteen minutes required to take it all in, if you’re in a hurry. But don’t be; it’s breathtaking.
It was barely a mention in Fodor’s Essential Ireland, but it called to me. I knew that despite it being a wee bit off the beaten path, I had to see it. My instincts were right. It is one of the most stunning visuals I have yet to experience on this beautiful island. But then, I always have been a sucker for a sea stack.
As we crossed the field on our walk up to the cliffs, we encountered several blowholes where the rock has eroded from underneath as a result of the Atlantic’s relentless barrage. You can look down into these holes—100 or more feet deep—and see ocean. One day our solitary sea stack may have company.
While Marcus was walking the cliffs, he heard voices but no one was nearby. Intrigued, he walked in the direction of the voices and discovered this blowhole, without so much as a warning sign near it. Good thing he was watching where he was walking—thanks to the many sheep that had recently visited the field. He peered into the yawning hole and saw people below swimming.
Downpatrick Head, or Dún Briste (Broken Fort) in Irish, was once a part of the mainland. It now stands 262 feet offshore. The rock that once bridged the gap was gradually undermined by the wild Atlantic and finally gave up the ghost in hurricane-force winds in 1393.
It’s recorded that “several families” were isolated on the stack as a result of the collapse and had to be rescued with ropes. From 164 feet above the sea. In the 14th century. We’re not talking helicopter rescue here. Ay, yi, yi! Just the thought makes my knees ache.
Almost as impressive as this beautiful sea stack is the vegetation that grows on the cliffs. I have never seen or felt anything like it. It grows in soft, spongy mounds that made me want to spring from one to the next like a kid on a trampoline. The foliage is compact with pliable, yew-like “needles” rather than leaves or blades. Wee pink flowers were just starting to bloom on the surfaces. I think they may be sea pinks or thrift, as it’s called in Ireland, an indigenous wildflower often found on sea cliffs. I’d never realized foliage could be so much fun!
Downpatrick’s Head was an incredible find. So glad I’d stumbled across it in Fodor’s before our trip, or we may have missed it.
I got a chuckle out of the sign on this food truck at the car park. Can’t you just hear Lionel serenading tourists as they pass by?
Oh Lionel, still dancing on the ceiling. Gorgeous spot, so primal
Ya know, hadn’t thought about him in decades. Was a wee bit nostalgic… Whatever happened to him? Such an icon for so long.
Wow, this is one of my favorite of your posts. What a beautiful and magical place. The danger makes it a little more intriguing – so glad you were careful!!! Lots to take in and imagine how people have traveled and perhaps lived there before. What a cool adventure!
What in the world were people doing living out on that little spit of a cliff??? I couldn’t believe it when I read it. Seems to me that they would have chosen a safer location a little more inland, right? So interesting to see what has gone on in this amazing country.
Cindy and Marcus, Barbara and I are enjoying your adventures immensely!!
Thanks, Curtis! It’s good to have you two along!