Days without getting soaked to the bone: zero.

Wednesday saw me on a bus through County Clare and the Burren, bound towards the Cliffs of Moher, towering more than a hundred metres over the Atlantic ocean. I’ve gotten used to forecasts like “Maximum of 0ºC, humidity at 100%,” but the wind off the Atlantic was still a surprise. It was strong enough to drag spray up the cliff face and onto us poor, shivering tourists. Still, a beautiful sight, and it was lovely to reacquaint myself with the Atlantic.

The Burren is a limestone karst landscape covering a few hundred square kilometres of Co. Clare, packed full of neolithic tombs, livestock and little else. According to Edmund Ludlow the Burren is “country where there is not enough water to drown a man, wood enough to hang one, nor earth enough to bury him…… and yet their cattle are very fat; for the grass growing in turfs of earth, of two or three foot square, that lie between the rocks, which are of limestone, is very sweet and nourishing.”

Photoset for Galway and Co. Clare is here.