Arriving in Havanna, walking through Havanna and soaking in an atmosphere and contrasts, that are hard to grasp. Everyone is moving, doing, talking, laughing, a running system that seems to share something with an old gramophon sitting in the corner still playing throughout history.
– Havanna, Cuba. 2015
24th August 2017
Dog‘s Bay. A place that has taken me by surprise.
We are driving through Ireland in our campervan. Well, I‘m driving – my mum and my sister are sitting next to me and behind me enjoying the scenery, which is passing us outside of our little home on wheels. Two weeks we are on the road alltogether, before we will enjoy another two days in Dublin. It‘s summer back in Germany, hot, really hot, and especially my mum is delighted and glad to be out of the heat. The weather in Ireland has been fresh the past days. We have woken up to some rainy and windy days. Our bodies are craving for some warmth from the sun. Today seems to be a good day. But we know already how quickly this can change in Ireland, we have experienced it ourselves.
We are on our way to the northern part of Ireland. We wanna see Connemara National Park in Co. Galway on the way, and we want to stop at Dog‘s bay before that. I‘ve read about it in a little book, which has a good collection of hiking tracks all around Ireland in it, and Dog‘s bay sounded nice. There is only one picture, so I don‘t know exactly what to expect.
When we arrive, I‘m forming this big smile on my face, my eyes grow big and my heart warm. We get out of the car and I walk down the beach with part of me being in disbelief. I have been to beaches in Ireland before, but this one doesn‘t look typically irish to me. The sand is white and soft, there are beautiful shells, which the ocean has washed to the shore, and the water is just full of colours of blue and green. It‘s like the Atlantic has brought a bit of the Caribbean all over the ocean to this corner of the island. I‘m thinking that this is as Caribbean as it can get on irish soil.
We decide to follow the hiking track, or part of it, and walk across wide meadows with yellow flowers. The breeze from the sea smells good, salty, and wild. Clouds and blue sky share the sky today and we change from being too warm in our clothes to being too cold from the wind as soon as the sun hides. After we have crossed the meadow we arrive at the other side – another bay with the same sand, same colour water and no soul anywhere near. Big rocks are spread around the bay and it looks like someone just dropped them like you would do in a game to design a landscape. I wonder where they come from and how long they‘ve been sitting there. I always had a weak spot for rocks in nature. There is something mystic to them. While nature always comes and goes with the seasons, changes, sometimes dies, before it‘s reborn in spring, the rocks just sit there, solid, watching, and making sure everything is ok. They are peaceful.
We walk back to the first beach to be close to our campervan. When we stroll over the meadow we see some dark clouds in the very distance. As soon as we arrive at the beach we know, it‘s either now in the sun, or never. We quickly walk to the campervan, put our swimmingsuits on, get our towels and find a spot at the beach, to walk down to the waves. The water is totally freezing, but that won‘t stop us. It‘s the warmest day since we arrived in Ireland and the most beautiful beach we might cross during our tour. My legs want to step backwards, but my mind pushes forward and there I stand – in the North Atlantic Ocean.
My mind thinks, this is fantastic! – and – I‘m freezing to death! My sister is tougher than me. She has dreadlocks and wants to give them some nice treatment. Salty water from the ocean is just that, so she breathes in deeply and dives under water with her whole body and head. That also marks the end to her bath session, she quickly gets out of the water to the towels and my mum and myself follow her. Just then the first drops start to hit the warm sand and we rush to the campervan to dry us inside, while the rain drums nature’s songs on the roof and windows of our home.
14th August 2017
The road down to Glendalough and the Wicklow Mountains National Park is beautiful. I‘m tired from the drive, but my mind starts to wake up and I get excited. The weather is fantastic and the views are already wonderful. I try to get a few shots, but know we will stop on our way home to catch the evening light for some photos. It‘s busy at the car park, plenty of people made their way to the National Park today, which is no surprise with the weather being so good and still having summer school holidays in Ireland. I hear a lot of english speaking people, some german and languages I don‘t know. The path to the lakes is busy. There is the Lower Lake and Upper Lake, both surrounded by beautiful mountains and hiking tracks. A couple with him being in the wheelchair is crossing our way and they seem to evaluate the further path and how far they‘ll go. I am impressed, sad and happy at the same time.
After walking next to the lakes for a while we follow the pink arrow, which is the Poulanass Route, and get off the busy touristic track. Not too many people seem to head off into the mountains, most of them stay at the very beginning of the park next to the lakes. I‘m glad to be away from the crowd. We follow a track that looks like an old one off the normal path, and are ending up on a little footpath cross-country. We make our way up the mountain next to the water stream and waterfall, walking through the woods until we hit the proper hiking path again. To get back on track we have to climb over a fence. I find a spot to climb down to the water stream and put my hands into the water, which is awesomely cold. I splash some towards my face to cool down my cheeks, they are hot from the steep climb. I love source water from the mountains, it‘s so clean and untouched.
We go further ahead following the pink arrow until we cross the white arrow, which is the Spinc and Glenealo Valley Route. While we know we won‘t be able to do the whole tour, we walk on that path a bit until we decide to turn around. To do the full hike we need more time and energy, which we don‘t have that day. We make our way back down to the lakes, walking on the other side of the stream this time and catch a nice view at the Poulanass Waterfall. When we arrive back at the lakes we find us a peaceful spot at the Upper Lake for a rest while the sun heats our bodies. My legs are tired and I lay down at the stone beach for a bit.
When I close my eyes I can hear the ocean, washing wave after wave to the shore. But it‘s not the ocean, it‘s the irish wind gently moving the lake‘s water into our direction. There is no salt in the air, the sea is far away behind the mountains. My feet are freezing from walking at the lake‘s shore, the water is glass clear and ice cold. The mountains surround us like they want to protect us, and I wonder from what. From time to time they send over a big strong wind, like a wave the sea would send towards the shore to fill the bay. They say hello and the tree‘s leaves sing along. I get the feeling the mountain‘s souls want to remind us where we are and my body shivers.
I see reflections far in the distance running down the mountain walls. Drop after drop they feed the lake, like blood streams are flowing to keep life itself. The heat from the walk is leaving our bodies and the sun starts to hide behind the clouds. I realise that I am still barefoot. It‘s time to go home.
media: oil on canvas
2016
30th of June 2017
A Love Letter
Dear Bay Lough in the Knockmealdown Mountains, dear wonderful place,
I’ve been visiting you quite a few times by now and have stopped counting. I know there will be several more times I will sit next to you in the future.
You are layed in the Knockmealdown Mountains range on the Tipperary side, just between two mountain peaks, filling and connecting the landscape that surrounds you. When it comes to the month of May, you reflect the purple shapes of the Rhododendron forest. I remember quite vividly the day I walked up to you from home, which took me around three hours and led me through little enchanted places next to water streams and purple blossoms. I didn’t feel far from being in a fairytale, I might as well have been in one.
Sometimes we just drive up to the car park and walk down to you for a bit of peace and nature. You are a great place for a break from the daily routines, but offer some good walks as well.
The day I walked all the way up from Cahir was a real summer’s day in May, it was actually so sunny and hot that i burned my skin, and when I arrived next to you, I went for a little swim, which was as rewarding as a swim can get. I tell a lot of people about you and have showed some the way up to you.
Bay Lough, Thanks for being such a wonderful place, may you always stay that way.
Your admirer Ruth.
9th of June 2019
Learning and educating myself while slowly settling in Ireland, I have learned that Rhododendron are not native to Ireland and are invading Ireland’s ecosystems. Superfolk have written an article about this issue and call Rhododendron a „A Terrible Beauty„. If you want to learn more about this situation, head over to their Stories : https://www.superfolk.com/stories, Thanks for educating us Superfolk!
x Ruth
Suport irish Wildlife:
Ground Work is a voluntary environmental organisation, dedicated to the preservation of some of Ireland’s most precious habitats.
http://www.groundwork.ie
Irish Wild Life Trust aims to conserve wildlife and the habitats they depend on throughout Ireland while encouraging a greater understanding and appreciation of the natural world and the need to protect it.
https://iwt.ie/donate/
Media: Oil on paper. Private Collection.
2016
Media: Pencil on paper. Private Collection.
2016
Germany
March 2016
home away
home away