Galway to Baltimore

Today, 19:00 on BBC Two (England, Northern Ireland only)

The Coast experts explore the wild west coast of Ireland, from Galway Bay to the Fastnet Rock, Ireland's most southerly point.

Neil Oliver traces the inspiration behind Columbus's journey to America and hears how an Irishman could have reached the New World nine hundred years before him. Alice Roberts explores the botanical puzzle of the Burren, a limestone landscape where Arctic plants grow next to Mediterranean flowers, and visits the monastery on the tiny island of Skellig Michael. Miranda Krestovnikoff finds dolphins in the Shannon estuary and reveals the secret ingredient in seaweed.

Those of you who regularly follow my blog will recall the visit made to The Skelligs on Midsummer day this year. Not quite the best of conditions, unlike the trip made Midsummer day last year where we had perfect conditions. Two trips to the Skelligs and I still haven't made it to the top of Skellig Michael to see the fantastic beehive huts so I have to rely on Alice Roberts from the BBC Coast programme to fill me in with what I have missed.

Although these programmes have done the rounds before, they always provide a fascinating watch and if you would like to see more of the Skelligs along with parts of West Cork, then I recommend you catch up with the programme tonight, 19.00 BBC2

Skellig Michael

Little Skellig

The programme ends up at the Fastnet Lighthouse - the 'teardrop of Ireland' - the last landmass of Ireland before America.
I can't wait to be back in West Cork at the weekend where fortunately for me, I can enjoy the reassuring flash of the 17-mile-distant, Fastnet Lighthouse from the comfort of my own bed, rather than a boat.

Sunset over the Fastnet Lighthouse

Tuesday, 21 June 2011

Midsummer Puffin Madness

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

A return trip to the Skelligs off the Kerry coast in Ireland was to be a must after we had spent the most wonderful but all too short, two-hour visit to the Island last Midsummer day, getting to know it's most famous residents, the puffins.

And so it was, this morning, we set out on the trip that had been planned for twelve months. We had had perfect conditions last year with a calm sea, blue sky and sunshine, so to hope for the same this year would of course, be a tall order. Although we left the quay in sunshine, the 'brisk' sea and descending cloud base meant that the Skellig Islands actually became less clear as we drew closer. What had started out as promising began to look vaguely fool-hardy as we jumped-ship for the slippery harbour wall, on the first of the six-hundred odd ancient steps that would take us to the top of this monastic settlement. As we had failed to make it to the top on the previous visit (too many puffin distractions), we set out to conquer the summit of Skellig Michael before settling down to more puffin delights.

Soaked through before we even started, the stiff breeze and near horizontal rain soon made us think again. With the warning words still fresh in our minds, we didn't wish to become third, fourth and fifth fatalities on this pimple in the Atlantic in as many years. We called it a day and retreated to a small covered walkway to take shelter for the remaining time of this all too long, two-hour visit. By way of compensation we were able to observe the comings and goings of a few of these clown-faced birds from our shelter, snatching a few shots on my p&s, the only piece of kit I dared pull from my camera bag.

Driving home, daringly wearing far fewer clothes than we had started out in, (the rest being in a soggy pile in the back of the vehicle) we sat recalling our previous years encounter and realised that it had been a vain hope to expect an equally wonderful visit this Midsummer day. After all, this IS Ireland.

Thank goodness for the sweetness of the turf fire.