Two friends. Two days. Twenty-four miles of the International Appalachian Trail in Ireland…

DAY 1:

Our adventure begins as all great adventures should, with a hearty breakfast and mugs of tea. We had put the date on our calendars two months before and here we were, getting ready to embark on a 2-day journey from Portballintrae to Ballycastle along the Causeway Coastal Route in Northern Ireland, and our excitement is palpable as we order our breakfast and tell the waitress at The Bilberry Mill in Bushmills all about our plans.

The forecast had predicted heavy rain and strong winds for the first day of our trip, but upon arrival in Portballintrae, we are greeted with bright blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, beautiful sunshine and a mild breeze. For mid-October in Ireland we really couldn’t have hoped for better and feeling the odds stacked in our favour for the two days ahead, we enthusiastically set out towards Runkerry Beach.

This journey is important to us both. We haven’t travelled from overseas. We were both born and raised on this island, this is home. We’ve walked these cliffs and trails all our lives and yet it feels like we are embarking upon a pilgrimage along this wild stretch of jutting, jagged coastline that is steeped in history and folklore. So many have sailed and walked this coastline before us, giants even! So many stories are etched and woven into this landscape, you can sense the richness of it, taste it in the salty air as it tangles your hair and lures you in, invites you to become fully immersed in all that it holds.

No sooner do we set foot on the sand, waves rushing to greet us, creating foam around our feet, than the first rainbow sighting of the day appears arched across the sky, causing us to pause in our tracks and breathe it all in. So much beauty, so much wonder, even in a world that feels overwhelmingly exhausting, noisy and filled with tragedy at times. We view the rainbow as a sign to move more slowly through this landscape, to slow down the pace, to pay attention, to notice with eyes and hearts wide-open to all that it wishes to reveal to us.

We had decided that given we have two full days together we will take it in turns to share our own stories as we walk, to lay down alongside our footprints our own personal histories – childhoods, teenage years, travels, jobs, relationships, experiences of childbirth and motherhood – those defining moments that had made us the women we are today.

It feels wonderful to hold space for one another, to really listen and feel heard and it also feels brave to share those most vulnerable of life experiences. The undulating cliff path mirroring so symbolically the highs and lows of life, the natural pauses for reflection and to take in the view.

On one of the higher cliff ledges we lie on our bellies and watch the waves crashing over the rocks far below. Rain showers roll in and out, rainbows appear one after another, astonishing us with their perfect synchronicity to our story-sharing. Eventually, we lose count of how many rainbows we see, soon just laughing and pointing: “Look, another one!”

We scramble down some slippery rocks to a cave that’s hidden from view when on the high path and watch the sea foam rolling in and out over the scattered boulders, feeling like the only people who have ever stood in that spot, like explorers happening upon a whole new world.

We are actively choosing to put ourselves in the way of beauty this weekend, seeking out nourishment for our bodies, minds and souls in this vast and astonishing wild place. Only a few miles in and it already feels like the whole weekend is a gift, that we were in fact standing in a thin place, on sacred ground, that we walk in both the past and the present, in another place altogether it seems at times too. There is a gentle magic in the air, lace-thin and delicate, yet unbreakable and powerful.

With each step forwards it is so easy to see why this place attracts people from all around the world; visitors, creatives, movie directors, those tracing their family roots and so on. The scenery is breath-taking, unspoilt, untamed, yet also warm and inviting. It draws you into its beauty, inspires you to come and sit in it, to inhale and fill your lungs with refreshing sea air and allow expansiveness to spread through every cell of your being, to exhale and let go of worries, fears, old stories that no longer serve. We can sense ourselves uncoiling and softening, leaning into the experience the further we go.

It’s funny how quickly you can adapt to a simple, gentle way of being and moving through the world, to shake off distractions and noise, as if it is encoded in our DNA to unhurriedly walk through the land, making connections with each other and the space around us. How fast chores and lists and scrolling and demands on our time are forgotten. Time loses all sense of meaning and we enter a state of easy flow. Our bodies are comfortable with this softer pace, our bones remembering an ancient way of being.

Soon, we arrive at the Giant’s Causeway, the impressive basalt columns abuzz with tourists taking photos and following tour guides. We pass through the busiest area, and on a higher path stop to chat with a lovely woman from Argentina who tells us she has fallen in love with our country. It’s hard not to feel a wave of pride.

We don’t linger long at the causeway, not wanting to interrupt the flow of our adventure, and so climb the many steps back up to the cliffs before ducking into a hidden dip out of the breeze, eating our lunch lying in the grass while overlooking the sea and marvelling at how clear Scotland is on the other side.

Towards the end of our first day’s trekking we pass through a huge hole in the cliff, a portal to Whitepark Bay and our home for the night, a rainbow welcoming us onto the sand of course. The campervan is parked up behind the sand dunes with views around the cliff trail we have just walked. Snuggled into our sleeping bags with hot water bottles we are lulled to sleep that night by the sound of the sea. A perfect, exhausted state of bliss washing over us.

DAY 2:

Feeling energised after a good night’s rest, eggs and sausages cooked in the camper, huge mugs of tea, and a change of clothes, we are ready to head off for the second day of our adventure. We retrace our steps down through the sand dunes onto the beautiful, undisturbed sands of Whitepark Bay that lead around to Ballintoy Harbour.

A little uphill section takes us onto a grassy trail to Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge. Neither of us are a fan of heights, but the sun is shining, there’s barely a cloud in the sky, we’ve peeled off our coats and hats and tucked them into our backpacks, there’s only the faintest whisper of a breeze, so really it is too good an opportunity to miss. We decide we will face our fear together, and so cross the rope bridge, the water below so crystal clear. It’s a special moment.

A quick tea and biscuit break settles the adrenaline rush and fuels us for the next steep uphill climb alongside a main road and then onto a country lane towards our final destination of Ballycastle.

For several miles we walk a traffic-free lane between hedgerows of hawthorn and ivy, Knocklayde Mountain and Ballycastle Forest in the distance. We cannot quite believe we are sauntering along in t-shirts, simultaneously excited to complete our 2-day walk and sad too that the end is within sight. We agree that it feels like we’ve been away for much longer and that the whole weekend the scenery has made it seem like we are on a movie set! To our left Rathlin Island sits proud in the Irish Sea, houses and lighthouses so clear, beyond there the tiny island of Ailsa Craig appears like a slumbering sea monster, and layer upon layer of Scottish Mountains beyond that is stunning.

We pass a few farmhouses and the inhabitants smile and wave while dogs rush to gates to bark at us passing strangers. It feels like a time gone by, simple and honest, and a privilege to be part of. Our shoulders have relaxed, our cheeks are sunburnt, the conversation ebbs and flows with ease and before we know it, we are winding down the final hill into Ballycastle Harbour, our end point. We celebrate with whipped ice-creams on the sea wall, watching the Rathlin Ferry load-up, the hum of life in a seaside town making the most of the unexpected good spell of weather the perfect backdrop to finishing. We’ve spent two blissful days wandering over beaches, around cliff paths, through caves, over bridges, along country lanes, scrambling up and down boulders, putting ourselves in the way of beauty and finding that we belong there.