cliff walk

Psst! Hey, you! Yeah, you. I’m going to let you in on one of the best kept secrets in Ireland. Come a little closer. We don’t want this getting out or it will become another over-populated tourist destination. You want to see the Cliffs of Moher without all the traffic and a horde of tourists? I’m going to tell you about a little car park, well off the beaten path, that can only accommodate about forty cars, max. You drop a couple euro in the cashbox…yeah, two euro for the whole day… and in fifteen minutes you’ve got your own personal gander at the Cliffs of Moher, Ireland’s most iconic view. No, no, don’t thank me. Just keep it to yourself, okay kid?

Sound too good to be true? Well, it isn’t. Thanks to our Airbnb hosts in Limerick who let us in on the location of the car park, we’ve been there and done that. It’s not even a car park; it’s a farmer’s field. And the two euro is ostensibly to cover his insurance for allowing thousands of tourists to cross his land each year. But if he’s making a little money off of it, I don’t have a problem with that. It’s a generous service he offers.

The farm is outside the don’t-blink-or-you’ll-miss-it village of Liscannor on the southern coast of County Clare, and it provides access to an incredible, 13-kilometer cliff walk to the village of Doolin north of the cliffs. We actually saw signs for the cliff walk parking as we approached Liscannor, yet almost no one seems to know about or take advantage of this opportunity to take in one of the most beautiful sights in Ireland from a unique vantage point.

The rain had started just as we checked out of our Airbnb that morning. I eyed the thick, black rainclouds apprehensively as we drove through Limerick and past Shannon Airport. It didn’t look like a very good day for viewing the cliffs. Our Limerick hosts had told us not to bother in the rain. But my forecast called for sun, so we pressed on.

I don’t know how or when it happened, but as we approached Liscannor I pulled my nose out of a map to find blue sky with a low line of chubby, cumulus clouds just above the horizon. I looked behind and all around us—not a raincloud to be seen! The weather gods were smiling upon us, perhaps in apology for our first four days in Limerick. What a great day to be outdoors! What an amazing view!

After our walk we drove past the ginormous car park at the official cliffs visitor center. I watched the parade of people making their way up to the cliffs.

I wanted to tell them to get back in their cars and head to Liscannor or Doolin instead.

Don’t go for the canned version! Get outside and walk it!

But I held my tongue.

Let’s just keep it our little secret, okay?

birds nesting in the cliffs
natural cairn
the cliffs

It was a gloriously sunny day, and I wanted to be outside. I had read about a cliff walk in the nearby town of Ardmore. There are no two words in the English language more compelling together than “cliff” and “walk,” are there?

We stopped in the town of Lismore first, walked around a bit and had lunch. Then we drove on to Ardmore. It was 3:30 in the afternoon by the time we got there. We drove to the spot that Google Maps identifies as the trailhead. A hotel? We drove into the long, narrow car park, but couldn’t find an available spot. Obviously we were not the only ones wanting to get outside on this beautiful day. We wiggled our way back out and snagged a spot on the street where a car was just pulling out. Score!

We were walking back toward the hotel when I spotted a sign pointing up the hill that read “Cliff Walk.” How fortuitous! We trudged up the hill.

As is typical, we’ve found, there were no further signs. We saw a local woman walking her dog and asked if we were on the path to the cliff walk. She looked at us, confused for a second, then said, Yes, they’ve plowed up a field, but you can take the next street.

Kinda vague: Field? Street? Maybe it will be obvious when we get there. We walked on.

We spotted several plowed fields, multiple streets, and a castle-looking building that appeared to be at world’s end. Perhaps it’s on a cliff! We tried to get to it, but every street led to a plowed field that blocked our path. “If the next street doesn’t lead to a cliff walk,” I told Marcus, “we’re giving up.” Twenty minutes later we were returning to the car.

As we came back down the hill, I had a thought. “I’m just going over to the hotel for a minute.” I had seen something at the end of the car park that I want to check out. There was a path marked “St. Declan’s Hermitage.” No mention of a cliff walk, but maybe… I started down the path, and, sure enough, it led beyond the hermitage to some cliffs overlooking the Celtic Sea.

I ran back to get Marcus. It was 4:30 by this time. We had no idea how long the path was. Should we just call it a day? Of course not! Have I taught you nothing? [Backtracking in the Wicklow Mountains]

I would like to say that, confident in our decision, we walked with abandon, but that’s not us. At every bend in the path we stopped to reassess: What time is it? Should we turn back now? Is it getting dark? (We have an obsession with time, and a tendency toward overthinking.)

Fortunately, every bend revealed something intriguing that propelled us to the next one until we had completed the entire walk. It took us 35 minutes to walk out, but only 15 to return. And we still had hours of daylight ahead of us.

Spinning Compass

Tag Archives: cliff walk

The Moher of all cliff walks