We knew that finding a place to park at the touristy Narin beach might be chancy but sometimes you just have to try. When I spotted a car leaving the next to last spot in a long row of parked cars I went for it, somehow squeezing Escape Velocity straight in. What would it be if you didn’t even try? You can’t plan for luck like that, you just stick out your racket and something good might happen. It was far from level and extricating EV out of here will not be fun but I decided to worry about that later. In the meantime the broad expanse of beach in front of us was truly beautiful.
It’s on a scale of beaches in Australia except this strand is filled with shivering Irish families covered up under their expensive Dry Robes, instead of lobster-red nearly naked Aussies baking in the sun. Suffice it to say it’s on the blustery, nippy side here in the Emerald Isle but they’re determined to have fun amidst the general beach brouhaha, and they really do.
The racket coming from the little cafe, across the narrow lane right behind us was shouting “party” but on further inspection was quietly found to have linen tablecloth prices, a strange juxtaposition for a beach vendor. You can drop a lot of coin for a burger and chips here at Narin beach.
It turns out we are going to have to wait until 3:30pm for low tide. What happens at low tide you ask? That’s when the water recedes down to the level where you can wade across Greebarra Bay to Inishkeel Island which features ancient monastery ruins, giving you something to wade to, so to speak.
Most conversation that day went something like, “Is it low enough?” “Not yet, Marce.” I’d seen a couple of people get bowled over in the swirling frigid current so I saw no reason to push it. The water level seemed to drop at a glacial pace all day until suddenly it looked like the beginning of the wading window was at hand. The receding tide exposed so much more sandy beach that now it was quite a hike just to get to the water.
As we entered the bay, we could immediately feel the cold current tugging at our legs.
Small waves that wrap around Inishkeel Island from the left and the right meet in the middle of the sandy bar creating a standing wave.
Gaining ground we negotiated some rocks hidden by seaweed and pressed on to a sandy cove where a handsome sloop was anchored.
At the end of the beach, high on a bluff overlooking the cove, we could see the ancient ruins of St. Connell church and St. Mary’s church, built in the 13th century.
There really wasn’t a path so you just have to force your way up through the overgrown weeds.
For a change we knew who they were and what they were doing there.
It certainly is picturesque.
The breeze is really freshening and the tide is swiftly swirling in, so we have a change of plans and quickly make our way down to the crossing bar.
We may have left it a little too long because the current is stronger and up to our knees this time.
The tide may be rising but it’s still a long walk up the beach to Escape Velocity.
Spent but happy describes this sunset.
Marce was in need of some quiet time away from the beach hub-bub which we found in spades the next day at the Ballyiriston parkup.
There were some nice walking trails through the hills. EV is up there somewhere.
Peace to you all.
