Aran Islands

A marked change of scenery this morning as we disembarked early to ride Zodiacs into the harbor of Kilronan, port of entry to the largest of the three Aran Islands that garland the entrance to Galway Bay. The scenery is a type of limestone scenery that takes it name from the karst region of the Balkans, lime stone blocks fissured with clints and grykes supporting a distinctive flora of sea thrift and campion, marsh orchids and gentians all in Spring bloom as we hiked up to the cliff-top hill-fort of Dun Aengus. It is the distinctive society that this landscape supported, however, that has always made a lasting impression on visitors.

In continuous occupation since Neolithic times, earlier societies that prized subsistence and security above surplus – an alien concept to most of us – actually found this a desirable location, for a living could be made in a relatively benign climate, on an island fortress where there were no predators and where enemies could be readily seen. There were fish in the sea, and a pastoral economy supplemented with marginal arable crops enabled the islands to support their population. The massive scale of the Dun Aengus site, occupied since Neolithic times, speaks eloquently of its primacy; the chevaux de frise that in similar sites in Burgundy is interpreted as a defensive feature against enemy cavalry charges must here be a status symbol – it is not possible to envisage a donkey trot let alone a cavalry charge in this terrain! Views from the top of the fort were breathtaking and the sound of the Atlantic breakers hitting the cliff was impressive, even on a calm day. Back in Kilronan, there was great interest in the distinctive Aran knitwear and some joined the colorful roosters waiting for the Lucky Star Bar to open.

The Aran Islands occupy a notable place in twentieth-century culture. At the end of the nineteenth century W.B. Yeats urged the young J.M Synge to go west and rediscover an old way of life that had not yet found expression. He welcomed the opportunity to perfect his spoken Irish in a community that remains Irish-speaking to this day. His one-act tragedy Riders to the Sea encapsulated both the heroism and stoicism of the islanders in the face of the powers of nature pitted against them. An early twentieth century movie by Robert O’Faherty, Man of Aran, splendidly explored similar territory.

In the afternoon, we seized the moment and lowered Zodiacs to explore some of the highest cliffs in Ireland, now active at the start of the Atlantic seabird breeding season: razorbills, guillemots, kittiwakes and fulmars much in evidence. The sandstone and shale Cliffs of Moher stretch for some five miles making an impressive Atlantic wall over 600 feet high. Perched on the top of the cliffs, the Moher Tower and the O’Brien Tower stood guard as we turned and headed northward for County Donegal.