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Wednesday, 30 April 2014

The World’s Most Romantic Place - Page 2

Written by Hanna Martin
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      After a reasonably smooth voyage from sea to rock, we debarked on a concrete slab and stood in the shadow of the mountain in awe, heedlessly splashed by the chilly salt spray. Our climb began, and we rose out of the shadow into the warm sunlight, encountering thousands of wild and pristine puffins as we went. 618 steps later, we arrived at the summit to see the small 6th century monastery, a small rock enclosure filled with sturdy beehive-shaped huts. From the peak, we were able to see the plummeting cliffs on the coast of Ireland, and the smaller but no less incredible Little Skellig, which is a bird sanctuary, white due to the thousands of mating pairs of Northern Gunnets that have made the craggy rock their roost. I fell in love in this moment with the truly majestic beauty of Ireland. 



      After a lunch consisting of Tuc and cheese that we ate in the midst of a damp clover patch, each droplet of water on each delicate, green leaf shrinking in the glory of the rare sun, we descended again to our one small boat, and greeted our one-toothed captain once more. Sailing away, I looked back for one more glimpse of Skellig Michael, already longing to return. My heart had been indescribably changed on this one day, and it seemed as if it would break knowing that it would most likely be years before I could experience the raw and romantic beauty of Ireland one more time. 



©Hanna Martin


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Last modified on Wednesday, 30 April 2014

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