The sea and the sky are battling to be the boldest shade of blue. Under my feet the water swirls into miniature whirlpools, smashing into rocks and sweeping a huge lion’s mane jellyfish back and forth. Best of all, the shelter of the cliffs is turning this wave-bashed little corner of Northern Ireland into something of a suntrap.
This is the Gobbins Cliff Path, a trail that clings to the edge of the cliffs lining the Irish Sea, weaving around the coast, across sleek silver bridges, crooked stone steps and tiny tunnels. It’s effectively hardcore rock climbing with none of the effort.
The gulls nesting among the rocks above my head are incredibly noisy, their screams ripping through the air. Some of them are protecting tiny bundles of grey fluff that occasionally poke their heads out (presumably to see what this noise is all about). Cute as the chicks are, they are not what I’m hoping to see.
Someone passes me a pair of binoculars and, as luck would have it, as soon as I point them to the edge of the rock a puffin flies into its nest. The quick flitter of an orange beak and wonky little face is enough to make me smile.
A 30-minute drive from Belfast, the Gobbins is the first big-ticket item on the Causeway Coastal Route, a 153-mile road trip that winds along the rugged shoreline of Northern Ireland. It really is a beauty of a drive. The roadside is thick with tangles of nettles and ferns, wild poppies and blankets of buttercups. And there’s barely another car on the road, which twists and turns past the jagged, rocky outcrops and choppy little bays between Belfast and Londonderry.
Advertisement
Luck is on my side at the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge. As I pull into the car park I’m told that it has only just reopened after the morning’s rough winds. In all honesty, it doesn’t seem much calmer when I get down there. The rickety bridge swings and bounces with every step, leading some of my fellow walkers to panic and declare that there is no way on earth they’re going over.
In the quitters’ defence, the rope bridge would test the nerve of even the biggest showboater. It stands almost 100ft over the water and the wind that whips through the gaps is enough to make you question your life choices. However, the views are stonkingly beautiful (if you can bring yourself to look down).
Just a 15-minute drive along the coast you will find the only Unesco World Heritage site in Northern Ireland (and the namesake of this route). I’ll claim that the Giant’s Causeway — a formation of hexagonal basalt columns formed by volcanic activity — is best seen as the afternoon sunshine dwindles, but it is important to get there before 5pm.
Round the corner is Maegden, a retro caravan where two women dole out epic grilled cheese sandwiches. I get there just before they close and order a toastie that drips with molten farmhouse cheeses, the overspill hardening like shards of cheesy crackling. It’s the stuff of wonder and I eat it as I amble around the columns of the Giant’s Causeway, all my senses sated.
The Causeway Coast isn’t a long drive, so I’m soon at my next stop, Portrush. As I pull into Whiterocks beach I see the screens, marquees and grandstands in place at the Royal Portrush Golf Club, for the 148th Open, which took place earlier this month. This really is a golfer’s coast — Portstewart is just up the road, with an equally impressive course. However, it’s not the golf that has brought me here. Down on the beach is Harry’s Shack, a seafood restaurant set up in a former National Trust shed on the dunes. It has a legion of loyal fans and reservations are a must.
Advertisement
And oh, the food is dreamy. Fat langoustines drowning in garlic butter; slippery haddock encased in a perfect batter. The restaurant even has its own beer, a zesty pale ale called Shacked. If you eat only one meal in Northern Ireland, it should be here.
I’m almost tempted to skip past Downhill Demesne, a ruined mansion over-looking the beach, and head straight on to Londonderry. However, when I walk into the estate’s Mussenden Temple, tottering high above the sea, I’m instantly enamoured.
Ostensibly a library, but, depending on whose story you believe, also a hideaway for scandalous affairs, Mussenden Temple is the kind of cosy sanctuary I would build were I the 18th-century Earl-Bishop of Derry. Its rounded walls were once lined with books and the tall windows overlook the waves as they pound the sands below.
It’s the kind of place that makes me long for a glass of whiskey, a roaring fire and a blanket to snuggle under. Throw in another cheese toastie and I’d probably never leave.
Need to know
Nicola Brady was a guest of Tourism Ireland (ireland.com). The Bushmills Inn has four-poster beds and a tiny cinema. B&B doubles cost from £230 a night (bushmillsinn.com). Entry to the Gobbins Cliff Path (thegobbinscliffpath.com) costs £15; to the Giant’s Causeway, £12.50; Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge, £9; and Downhill Demesne and Mussenden Temple, £6.20 (nationaltrust.org.uk)
