Travel. Ireland. Nature.
Magic of Southern Ireland
What do algae, foxes, seafoam, and a one-lane road have in common? Under the right circumstances, they become magical
It takes just a moment, just a few seconds or minutes to turn a good trip into an unforgettable one. It’s not sorcery, it’s our ability to truly live in the moment.
Swimming with the stars
At first glance, Lough Hyne in southwestern Ireland seems like an ordinary lake where to lounge and take a swim during summer or enjoy water sports and activities all year round. However, there is more to it than meets the eye. Lough Hyne is Ireland’s first and only marine nature reserve boasting a unique ecosystem. You read it right — a marine reserve since it is a saltwater lake.
A narrow channel called “The Rapids” links the lake with the Atlantic Ocean, causing a tidal difference of about one meter. The warm seawater of Lough Hyne fosters an incredible habitat for marine flora and fauna, for some of them this being the only place of existence in the country. It’s like a small paradise for marine biologists, and they have been studying the lake for more than 100 years.
We arrive late in the evening with the intent to tick off one of our bucket list items. This extraordinary lake is also one of the few places in Ireland where it is possible to observe bioluminescence from April to October. Although bioluminescence may be common on many shores in Europe, it tends to be a fleeting phenomenon and there are very few places where you can reliably go and see it as in Lough Hyne.
While waiting for total darkness, we have plenty of time to walk around, have dinner, and wistfully observe a group of kayakers gathered in a circle on the shore and practicing their paddling skills by brandishing the paddles in the air and trying not to hit each other. There is a starlight kayaking tour offered every evening but due to our last-minute planning, there are no free spots left. Nevertheless, we don’t allow it to dampen our spirits and are determined to experience this natural phenomenon by ourselves.
Soft laugh and splashing of water interrupt our waiting-for-darkness slumber. We get out of the car and are greeted by a couple and their two golden retrievers who have also come to enjoy the light show. It turns out that dogs are even more effective than paddles for observing bioluminescence.
Single-celled algae emit blue light when mechanically stimulated, and dogs are doing a great job by jumping and playing around. Whenever they move, blue sparkles of light come to life all around, and all of us are utterly transfixed by the sight of magical glowing dogs. Unfortunately, our camera is not able to document this fleeting brilliance but this allows us to fully revel in the moment.
Despite some 14°C (57°F) of both air and water, we can’t miss an opportunity to go for a swim. Our previous winter swimming experience comes in handy when an early autumn chill caresses our goosebump-covered bodies as we slowly slide into the water.
Then for a while, the cold is completely forgotten. We are too mesmerized by blue flashes enveloping our bodies and making us feel like decorated Christmas trees strung with flickering lights. Whenever our bodies move, causing the water to sparkle, it feels as if we are bombarded with thousands of minuscule electric shocks, yet we suspect it is our minds that create the sensation, not the small algae.
This enchanting experience is intensified many times over by the breathtakingly vivid Milky Way over our heads. Since there is no light pollution nearby, the dark sky is packed with glittering stars. It is like floating amid our own spiral galaxy. There is no up or down anymore, just sparkles of wonder — extraterrestrial and marine — hovering around us in every direction.
If it wasn’t for the cold, we would swim here the whole night. As it is, we get in a car, set the heater controls to maximum, and try to restore some balance of warmth with a hot cup of tea from a thermos flask.
After the serenity of the magical adventure, the noise of the car sounds too loud and alien and headlights seem too bright and disturbing. It’s like the spell has been broken and we are thrown back into reality — too abruptly for my liking. I keep gazing at the starlit sky all the way to our B&B, but the ethereal bond of wonder dissolves with every passing kilometer.
Furry friends of the Comeragh Mountains
The next morning, we kick off with a short version of the Coumshingaun Lake Walk in the Comeragh Mountains. From the start, the passionate chatter of rustling leaves keeps us company, and every so often, the trees towering above us make such a ruckus that we need to raise our voices to be able to converse.
Soon, the loud swishing is replaced by the constant clack-clack of what sounds like stick-fighting as hundreds of dry spruce branches collide with each other, echoing all around. It seems there is some serious business going on in this forest today.
Only a lonely fox appears indifferent to all the hustle, being so engrossed into choosing the juiciest wild blackberries while avoiding prickly bushes that it doesn’t even notice us. And when it does, it remains nonchalant.
We emerge from the forest and realize that the real climb hasn’t even begun. Our idea of a quick walk to the lake has probably been too hasty but we decidedly start our ascent, marveling at the purple carpet of heather covering the hillside in front of us. When we make it to the top, we feel noticeably discouraged as there is no sight of Coumshingaun Lake but knoll after knoll as far as the eye can see. It definitely took us longer than expected, but after the one last hillock, we see it.
It’s like entering an enormous arena enclosed by massive rocky walls on three sides. The grassy side slopes may as well be rows of green stadium seating and the lake at its center — a glinting field of blue. The distinctive nature-made amphitheater is a characteristic of corries — hollows formed by glacial erosion and found in upland areas.
These bowl-shaped depressions are often filled with water, creating corrie lakes, and Coumshingaun Lake is one of the finest examples in Europe. The sheer cliff-face encircling the lake reaches the height of 365 meters, and the long version of this walk takes you along the ridge up to a panoramic vantage point and down again. We are not ready for such an endeavor and slowly head back.
As we approach the lower part of the hill where spiky shrubs of gorse have claimed a substantial section of the available space, we are surprised by another fox boldly approaching us. Since early childhood, I have been taught that wild animals don’t come close to humans but if they do, there is a high chance of them being infected.
I stand still and frantically try to remember signs of a rabid animal while reaching for my camera. There are no obvious red flags, so I start to relax and within seconds, this graceful animal has won me over. Its curious manner, intelligent look, and stunning coat keep me enthralled for a good while, and I mentally pin another magical moment to this trip.
Not even three minutes have passed since the furry animal has resumed its exploration and left when the third fox of the day crosses our path and sits down in the middle of our walking trail. This one appears a little bit ruffled. You know that feeling on a Monday morning when you tumble out of bed and realize there is a whole week of hard work ahead of you — that’s how it looks.
We slowly bypass the fox, and I can hardly keep quiet with all the excitement of this unusual experience. It’s possible that the animals here are used to regular human visits or these are this year’s youngsters learning to live on their own and curiously exploring every opportunity to obtain the food — even trying their luck with occasional tourists. Either way, it’s not often that I have had the chance to look in the eye of a wild animal and it strikes the deep strings of my soul, giving rise to a heartwarming melody that resounds long after.
Defying gravity
The majestic southern slopes of the Comeragh Mountains, which have guided our drive, disappear for a moment as we turn into yet another one-lane road. Besides the fact that my usual anxiety of narrow Irish roads kicks in, it looks utterly inconspicuous. It is lined with lush trees and shrubs that are soon replaced by a uniform tapestry of dense ferns. The only noteworthy thing is a half-dead tree on one side — midway down a segment of the road marked by an engraved rock at each end. The engraving reads, “Magic Road”.
The tree — half green and half gray — is also not an ordinary one. It is a Fairy Tree and is believed to serve as a gateway between our world and that of the wee folk. These are usually hawthorn or ash trees that stand alone, and the Irish are very particular about the magic of the Otherworld surrounding such places. It is common to leave a personal token — a prayer written on a piece of paper, ribbon, hairband, picture, or money — on the tree’s branches or at its base in a hope of good luck.
A few lonely straps of blue fabric fluttering in the lowest branch of the Fairy Tree do not create the impression of a particularly special location but we suspect it is common trickery of the fay. How else would you disguise a place brimming with supernatural power so strong as to refute the laws of physics known to man? We are used to things rolling downhill, but on the Magic Road, it’s the other way around.
Oh my, we probably look like a pair of wackies, rolling a bottle of water and thermos flask down the road and giggling with childlike amazement as they clearly defy the gravity and roll uphill.
Next, we get back in the car, put it in neutral, and wait for the magic to happen. Our whoops of delight ring in the silence as the car reaches the top of the small hill on its own, and we can’t resist repeating the process at least five more times. For a good 40 minutes, we are utterly enthralled by the Magic Road. Then, the next car of tourists arrives to test the laws of gravity, and we allow them to be silly in private. And it’s up to them to believe in fairy magic or settle for an optical illusion.
It’s party time
The Copper Coast UNESCO Global Geopark covers some 17 kilometers along the southern coast of Ireland in County Waterford. It’s a rugged coastal area with imposing cliffs, wide beaches, striking sea stacks, hidden coves, and magnificent views.
At this point, to call our travel progress driving would be an overstatement. We move at snail’s pace, pausing at every beach and every designated viewpoint to explore the remaining evidence of the once-thriving copper mining industry and marvel at the scenery. Buckling up and unbuckling our seat belts take the same amount of time as driving to the next point of interest.
A sight of velvety cliffs on the opposite side of a small bay forces us to stop for some seventh time at one of the countless headlands. A patch of vividly green grass in front of us looks like any other chunk of land in the country — nothing to catch the eye. But it only takes us one step to discover a natural trampoline park.
It seems like the top of this cliff hasn’t been grazed for years, and layers upon layers of old grass have accumulated over time, creating a soft and flexible cover. I can’t resist the pull and do what every sensible adult would do — start bouncing on a mass of vegetation, smiling from ear to ear. Each jump is more exhilarating than the previous, and soon I feel like a seven-year-old, discovering the enthrallment of a trampoline for the first time.
Just when I think it can’t get better than this, the relentless Atlantic wind surprises us with an improvised foam party — an unfulfilled dream of mine since my teenage years.
Even though we are standing at the top of a reasonably high cliff, the wind is so strong that chunks of seafoam, piled up at the water’s edge way down, are being lifted up, swirling and fluttering over our heads.
Within seconds, our trampoline park is transformed into a magical dance floor bordering a swelling sea on one side and a plot of mayweed on the other. The churning of water, howling of the wind, and occasional seabirds provide perfect music, and we are swinging in the rhythm of nature. It’s all there is to happiness — just moments truly lived and embraced.
Sign up for our newsletter to stay informed with up-to-date curations from our editors:👇
We now offer exclusive writing services for our members. Discover how you can take advantage of our editing services and more.
