As I embarked on my 1,400-mile journey around Ireland, I was driven by a desire to traverse the landscape and connect with the land of my ancestors. At 50 years old, some might view this as a mid-life crisis, but for me, it was a pilgrimage in search of meaning and connection.
I had grown up visiting relatives in small cottages on soda bread-fueled afternoons, but despite frequent visits, I knew Ireland only fragmentarily. So, I set out to run around the entire island, starting in Dublin, making my way down through the Wicklow mountains, and ending in Cork before exploring the Wild Atlantic Way.
During my journey, I found myself running alongside locals who would often invite me into their homes for food or offer a bed for the night. It was as if Ireland had an open-door policy, where you could turn up unannounced and be welcomed with a cup of tea and a chat. Even when my motorhome's fuse blew on a stormy evening, I wasn't put off – I simply knocked on the door of a hardware shop, which miraculously had the right fuse in its drawer.
As I ran through towns and villages, I would often stumble upon traditional pubs with wood-panelled walls, adorned with random objects and pictures. The highlight of every visit was finding the handwritten sign in the pub window advertising a 'Trad session tonight'. It wasn't a performance, per se, but rather whoever turned up that evening, sitting in one corner, playing their fiddles, guitars, or accordions.
Ireland is known for its wild landscapes, but I discovered it also has plenty of hidden gems. The Beara peninsula, straddling Cork and Kerry, boasts stunning scenery, including the Glengarriff nature reserve with native Irish forest. And then there were the beaches – like Derrynane Beach in Kerry, which on a less windy day could pass as a tropical beach.
Running through Northern Ireland's north Antrim coast was a highlight of my journey, particularly when I encountered Ballintoy Point, an array of rocky outcrops and hidden sandy coves. There were also numerous lakes and waterfalls where I could dip in to cool off – including the serene Poulanassy waterfall in Kilkenny.
Throughout my 1,400-mile run, I never dwelt long in any one place, which meant that my experiences felt fleeting – more like an impressionistic image of Ireland than a comprehensive exploration. And yet, the impression I got was one of a country at ease, letting the world come to it for a cup of tea and a chat.
On my final day, as I ran into Dublin, I was joined by 30 runners from across the country. We sang Molly Malone at the tops of our voices alongside the River Liffey before finishing at Ha'Penny Bridge, where we all headed to the pub afterwards for a well-deserved Guinness. For me, that moment summed up my journey – it was about being taken in and looked after by Ireland.
I had grown up visiting relatives in small cottages on soda bread-fueled afternoons, but despite frequent visits, I knew Ireland only fragmentarily. So, I set out to run around the entire island, starting in Dublin, making my way down through the Wicklow mountains, and ending in Cork before exploring the Wild Atlantic Way.
During my journey, I found myself running alongside locals who would often invite me into their homes for food or offer a bed for the night. It was as if Ireland had an open-door policy, where you could turn up unannounced and be welcomed with a cup of tea and a chat. Even when my motorhome's fuse blew on a stormy evening, I wasn't put off – I simply knocked on the door of a hardware shop, which miraculously had the right fuse in its drawer.
As I ran through towns and villages, I would often stumble upon traditional pubs with wood-panelled walls, adorned with random objects and pictures. The highlight of every visit was finding the handwritten sign in the pub window advertising a 'Trad session tonight'. It wasn't a performance, per se, but rather whoever turned up that evening, sitting in one corner, playing their fiddles, guitars, or accordions.
Ireland is known for its wild landscapes, but I discovered it also has plenty of hidden gems. The Beara peninsula, straddling Cork and Kerry, boasts stunning scenery, including the Glengarriff nature reserve with native Irish forest. And then there were the beaches – like Derrynane Beach in Kerry, which on a less windy day could pass as a tropical beach.
Running through Northern Ireland's north Antrim coast was a highlight of my journey, particularly when I encountered Ballintoy Point, an array of rocky outcrops and hidden sandy coves. There were also numerous lakes and waterfalls where I could dip in to cool off – including the serene Poulanassy waterfall in Kilkenny.
Throughout my 1,400-mile run, I never dwelt long in any one place, which meant that my experiences felt fleeting – more like an impressionistic image of Ireland than a comprehensive exploration. And yet, the impression I got was one of a country at ease, letting the world come to it for a cup of tea and a chat.
On my final day, as I ran into Dublin, I was joined by 30 runners from across the country. We sang Molly Malone at the tops of our voices alongside the River Liffey before finishing at Ha'Penny Bridge, where we all headed to the pub afterwards for a well-deserved Guinness. For me, that moment summed up my journey – it was about being taken in and looked after by Ireland.