EIRE - JANUARY 1990

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In late January 1990 I headed off to the west coast of Eire, via Stranraer, Belfast, Newry and Kells where I stayed overnight to see a peaceful morning the next day. Off across country - destination was the Burren area of County Clare because a) I wanted to see it, b) I wanted to say hello to the Atlantic and c) I wanted to hang out in pubs and listen to the music (last but not least!)..... So it was straight over to Limerick then up through Lisdoonvarna ending up at a small coastal place called Doolin. I wasn't into weather photography as such back then, so the results here were by good fortune. The whole week was characterised by gale to storm-force winds and squally showers.....
.....the first morning at high tide and some real growlers were hitting the low cliffs to the north of Doolin, prompting a closer look....
...so here goes! Sky turning more ominous by the minute....
.....clearer to the south but with another squall in the distance so a walk to the Cliffs of Moher was suggested, despite the fact that conditions were obviously very wild indeed...
....there seems to be a lot of spray exiting the high clifftops - what's going on?? Time for a closer look....
...foamy water being hurled across the clifftop fields......
....oystercatchers sheltering from the storm in the fields....
...getting closer to one of the big spray-clouds, looking down into the maelstrom...
.....aha! It's so windy that streams falling off the high cliffs are being picked up and hurled back inland. Weird! Of course the next thing was to have to walk through the spray so it was a case of heads down & get through it.....
...arriving on the Cliffs of Moher in another squall as the Atlantic boiled hundreds of feet below. One of those days you could lean over the cliffs and be held there by the wind (if you wanted!).....
....the squall clears to a stormy sunset, illuminating the tremendous swells rolling in....
Some days the weather was too much and sitting in the pub was the preferred option. Late one afternoon we climbed Black Head at the N end of the Burren in thick clag and heavy rain: on nearing the top a small break appeared in the cloud....
...and within a few seconds the rain-washed limestone pavements of the Burren lit up in the sunlight, almost metallic in their appearance. What a magical place - it ought to be spot-on as a stormchasing venue when an unstable NW-erly is bringing in lots of convection from the Atlantic. I'll have to go back again sometime to find out! A day or two later the return trip was made via Rosslare to Fishguard in a spectacular overnight crossing in which waves were breaking over the bows of the ferry, things were falling off shelves in the bar and the drive back up to Mid-Wales was something out of a nightmare. This was the beginning of the famous Burns' Day Storm.
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