Joys of our Wild Atlantic Way - Take on Nature

I recently walked the well-trodden Rougey Cliff Walk at Bundoran’s east end starting off overlooking the long expanse of Tullan Strand. In the bracing westerly wind, the Atlantic Ocean heaved and swelled as rowdy, angry waves crashed against the rocks and spilled onto the golden sandy shoreline.

Part of Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way, the walk affords magnificent views out across Donegal Bay towards Saint John’s Point and the imposing cliffs of Slieve League. Visible too beyond the popular seaside town is Mullaghmore Head jutting out, before gently sloping towards the sea.

Just yards into the walk, the famous ‘fairy bridges’ appear where limestones and shales have been exposed by cycles of erosion and abrasion from the powerful waters beneath. The present sea arches probably began as a roof for caves which were gouged out by strong currents finding weaknesses and carving out underlying rock.

Over time and with the pressure of high tides and stormy waters, sections of the roof would also have been loosened before eventually collapsing to form blowholes which have expanded to shape the arches of today. On particularly stormy days, massive waves driven under the rocks are forced skyward in dramatic spray through the holes, giving rise to the belief by locals the area was inhabited by fairies.

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In Scenes of Ireland (1834), Dublin-born Anglican clergyman the Rev George Wright wrote of the main arch as “a single arch... perfectly formed and detached from all un-architectural encumbrances” and that: “Although it is securely passable by simple mortals, visitors are advised to avoid its unhallowed surface as troops of fairies are constantly heard, and sometimes seen... flying hastily from end to end.”

Ballyshannon poet William Allingham also featured the place in his famous work, The Winding Banks of Erne, where he wrote: “From Dooran to the Fairy Bridge and round by Tullen Strand, Level and long, and white with waves, where gull and curlew stand.”

On particularly stormy days, massive waves driven under the rocks are forced skyward in dramatic spray through the holes, giving rise to the belief by locals the area was inhabited by fairies

Further along the route, small clusters of eider duck became visible in the rough waters below as they rode the swells and dived through the waves before they broke. Just specks in the vast turbulent waters, the males’ white backs and black caps could be picked out, not though, the light green on their necks. This sturdy sea duck, Éador or Colc, ‘quilt’ in Irish, known for providing soft feathers for quilts and ‘eiderdowns’, is a resident bird and can be seen along our north and northwestern coasts.

In Northumberland and around north east England, the bird is affectionately known as the ‘Cuddy duck’, named after St Cuthbert, who gave eiders special protection on his monastic island of Inner Farne.

After being rewarded with fine views, spectacular cliff rock formations and seeing the resilient ducks, I moved further on along the coast to the village of Drumcliff where, “Under bare Ben Bulben’s head, In Drumcliff churchyard Yeats is laid”. Here, where the Drumcliff river flows into the Atlantic, I observed two little egrets foraging in shallow pools, their clean white plumage contrasting with surrounding earthy shades.

This smallish white heron, éigrit bheag, with its long black legs, yellow feet, and attractive plumes, first bred in Co Cork in 1997, after centuries of absence in Ireland due in part to hunting, and now breeds in many of our coastal counties. The birds were eaten at banquets and their plumes in great demand for use in the decoration of hats.

After leaving the tranquillity of Drumcliff, heading home through Bundoran, I thought of other Allingham lines about the fairies and their whereabouts: “Wee folk, good folk/Trooping all together... Down along the rocky shore/Some make their home.”