The gorse course: Taking some time away from it all
Bray Head in Ireland, Co Wicklow, is such a lovely hike to try out for both adventure and creative inspiration
Consider it one of the best weeks to have decided to ascend up a tall enough hill by the sea. The sun was out, the trees had already blossomed, and there was a pleasant breeze to balance out the temperature. My last ‘climb’ was Cairn Hill, Co Longford, in May this year, which had a demanding enough uphill trajectory at the beginning, but that became the nice taster for a much more challenging experience.
When you live in midlands Ireland, the journey to the destination is the biggest feat. Getting there on time was the goal to plan out the day in a rewarding manner. To be at Connolly Station for 10am, I had caught the 7:51am train from the Longford station to get to Dublin by 9:40am. It worked out very well in terms of arrival. No delays or anything for the day to not be lived at its fullest. I had packed a mountain rucksack for this specific trip, with plain rice cakes, a 2 litre bottle of water, and even my Canon 1000f camera (yes, it is a film camera!). This was a much-anticipated trip to change up the week. My last trek up Cairn Hill was a solo one, which was enjoyable for contemplative purposes, but I had a nice group of friends for company this time.
So, once you reach Connolly, you have the fun inconvenience of going into the station from the platforms, to tap your leap card on the machine, to head right back to the platform area you just came from, to reach the DART on the far-end platforms. That is what happened there. The Bray DART was on Platform 5, and it was one of the most scenic routes you could ever take on public transport. Eventually, once escaping the cityscape, you were immersed in all the oceans and headlands. It was scenic and vast, building up the whole anticipation of a day-long adventure. This was my first time going to Bray, so I did not know quite what to expect, or how close the hike was from the DART station upon arrival.
Exploring Bray
With everyone gathered, we headed for the seafront, where there is a long promenade. Unlike Majorca’s soft, silky beaches, Bray is pebbly. Yet, there was a beauty to it. In the distance was this high landmass with a cross at the peak. It soared over everything below, and the promenade led directly to the beginning of this hike. There were people there, but the day was still young, so it was not necessarily bustling. Much more life emerged upon descension.
What were my first observations of Bray Head? It is ‘wilder’ than Cairn Hill, even though this location is, perhaps, more ‘commercialised’. The initial part of the hike was the most unexpected feature. After some steps underneath the bowers of trees, the main hurdle was the steep, rocky terrain full of tree roots. There was no direct path. You had to lock your feet onto surfaces to lunge your way up. It was uneven, rugged and daunting, to say the least. Every move had a sort of calculated approach, not that it was dangerous in any way. In fact, the hike had an endearing authenticity to it. The sun broke through the gaps in the leaves. The shade made the heat tolerable. While a friend set up their camera, I deemed it a much-needed snack of a rice cake since, being an early morning commuter, did not make room for breakfast. That light fuel and a drink really burst some additional energy.
How we did it, I do not know. We took a different route to the easier one on the way back down. The path we took meandered through eternal rows of prickly gorse. The thistles tickled. Wearing shorts was both a blessing and a curse. They had not bloomed with their yellow flowers, but they were thick and protruded onto the path quite often. You brushed against them, and there were horseflies around as well. It really gave that touch of proper nature. There was a need for endurance. They prickled a lot, sometimes feeling like a quick nettle sting without the constant throbbing that comes afterwards. It is funny; there are tons of gorse on a usual nature walk that I take, but because they do not impede on the path, never realised how prickly they are until that hike.
It was there and then when I coined the ‘Gorse Course’, saying it aloud we endured. It never seemed to end at one point. It was taller than us at times.
Despite the vegetative obstacles, the gradient was much more forgiving than the beginning. The path meandered and buckled sometimes, but was smoother overall. There was a more recreational manner in the route: stopping to take a photograph; staring back at the group with a jokey comment here and there. It was a new kind of fun, travelling to Dublin not to be around the city centre for a general hang-out, music class or orchestra rehearsal. This was a fresh, reviving experience outdoors, and it felt uplifting and energising despite the physical requirements.
My film camera was so much fun to use, and I will look forward to developing them. I usually buy some Ilford black-and-white rolls from Boots in Dublin’s Jervis Centre whenever around, to fill it up with. Although a digital camera would be nice for the unlimited number of photos that can be taken, something about using less technology is equally pleasant. Of course, I used my phone as well, but older devices have an indescribable way of detaching you from modernity.
The summit
I would safely say that it took a little over an hour to get to the amazing summit. That sight was something else. The sky and the sea blended into each other like a blue gradient. It is hard to describe. It felt like there was eternal space straight up before turning left to look at the cross, which overlooked Bray. We sat there for a while, staring at the openness, snacking and photographing whatever caught our fancy. There are some moments where you are so enchanted by what you see, because in this country, it is usually burdened by rain, drizzle or dull overcasts. This was like being in a different country, but it highlighted that one’s home country has so much beauty if one seeks it.
Despite being by the coastline, the wind was not forceful. It was not colder, either. There was something so pleasant about the heat. Sitting there forever was a possibility. Just living in the moment, appreciating what is there, was necessary. Just stopping to think about nothing important was the gift that the hike gave. Seagulls sang, the wind blew. The blue sky was picturesque and serene. Asking for a better day to do this activity would be impossible.
The descent was much easier. We ended up veering down a much more straightforward route, wondering how or why we veered into the ‘Gorse Course’ which had a more complicated, bendy path. The worst bit was, again, that rocky, rooted terrain because, like with going downhill, a little bit of speed wants to happen. There is a need for careful control, but it was an entertaining kind of puzzle. By then, it became noticeable how the place was becoming busier. People were beginning their hikes. We had finished.
Doing it pretty early in the day meant that we were unaffected by the increasing heat. The sun was bright, and it did seem to get warmer by the early afternoon.
Conclusion
The rest of the day was enjoying Bray itself, from the town for dinner to getting a Gino Gelato by the promenade, to sit on the beach for a while. From the beach, it was amazing to stare back at Bray Head. We had hiked it. It was so tall and mighty, but we had spent an entire morning and into midday experiencing its gradients, bends and foliage. It was a worthwhile adventure.
It is good to go and see these places for oneself, because as they say, real life is the best source of information. Doing a hike means that, if required, I can write about one with more accuracy, using my firsthand perspective. The photos that I took can help me with my watercolour paintings, or be inspiration for my novel settings. By seeing the world for what it is, the possibilities are endless as to what the imagination can do with it to create something.
That was one of, if not the best, experiences to have done in Ireland for a day activity. It was so adventurous and liberating. Would I do it again? Of course! Having a group was a massive bonus. To share the memories is a wonderful concept. Writing about it is a joy.