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Grabbed by the Cooley's

By Tracey Davies

From cultural to carousal Dublin is a Mecca for many, but venture away from the bright lights of this cosmopolitan hub to the neighbouring counties of Louth and Meath and you can discover some of Ireland’s finest countryside, a legendary coastline and its oldest and most popular monument, no, not Terry Wogan, but the 5,000 year old ‘fairy mound’ of Newgrange, all within a nymphs’ breath of the capital.

‘O’er the hills and far away’ a refrain used by poets and authors the world over, but here in Ireland the phrase has never seemed more appropriate. Just a twenty minute drive from Dublin airport and you are in the heart of the glorious emerald countryside. Rolling reams of green, green hills are laced with liquorice snakes of winding tarmac, each village a multicoloured scatter of houses and hostelries evoking stereotypical images of the west coast.

On this delightful summer’s day we are blessed with the finest weather Ireland has seen in years. Driving through one of the many picture-postcard villages we pass a series of monochromatic pubs filled with rouge-cheeked, twinkle-eyed locals, the faint trill of chatter in the background and a lungful of fresh, grassy air and I am temporarily whisked back to a fairy-tale Ireland with leprechauns, legends and a stone called Blarney.

We’re heading north towards the town of Dundalk in Irelands smallest County, Louth. Dundalk lies halfway between Dublin and Belfast and apart from being home to The Corrs, the towns main attraction is its proximity to the Cooley Peninsular. Nestling in the crease of the Cooley Mountains, the sinister shadow of the sleeping giant gives the town a cosy, protected feel.

Dundalk, although not without its history, serves as a perfect base for exploring the region. Carlingford and Omeath are popular spots with some spectacular views of the Carlingford Lough and the nearby Mourne Mountains just north of the border.

A fine place to rest up is the Ballymascanlon Hotel, known as the Ballymac, on the outskirts of town. Steeped in history going back to the early 800’s, this hotel is well worth a visit. What really makes this place special is its very own piece of megalithic history. The Ballymac grounds are home to the Proleek Dolmen, an ancient burial ground marked by large, stone, mushroom-shaped monument. The ‘capstone’ of the Dolmen is perched eight feet high on three legs and weighs over forty tons. Legend has it that if you land a pebble on the top your wishes will come true.

Heading back southerly towards the County of Meath, we drop in on Slane Castle. Renowned more for its rock concerts than its historical importance it is a must-see for me. As a schoolgirl in the mid Eighties, all I ever dreamed of was seeing U2 at Slane Castle, so with ‘The Joshua Tree’ blasting out of the car stereo I am almost realising my dream. Driving up through the leafy and cavernous entrance, the stark, ominous grey of the castle peeps through. Set in the natural amphitheatre of the Boyne valley, you can almost hear Bono’s Irish brogue ringing through the countryside.

Although the castle is a magnificent building, the interiors are more shabby than chic and wandering through takes me back to the bi-annual stately home drags of my childhood. Sadly, the reality of finally being here at this iconic place is no match for my schoolgirl dreams.

Driving through the meandering byways of Meath is a Clarkson dream, and the hired VW enjoys the ride as much as we do. We pass through some fantastically named villages such as Termonfeckin and Clogherhead on our way to Bettystown on the coast. The south beach is a vast stretch of greying sands, strewn with tubular razor clam shells and the expired rounds of jellyfish which edge the shores like discarded breast implants. Rural and unpretentious with plenty of natural charm and popular with dog walkers, kite flyers and budding Yeats’. For more of a ‘kiss-me-quick’ experience visit central Bettystown just three miles up the coast. Filled with crusty amusement arcades, the standard chippers and ice-cream shops and the ever-present bucket and spade emporiums, and do not be alarmed by a local penchant for parking on the beach and then picnicking alongside your car, it seems to be the norm here on the east coast.

Drogheda, pronounced Draw-da, straddles the border of counties, Meath and Louth and is one of Ireland’s oldest and most historical towns. If something of archival importance was to happen, you can bet your boots Drogheda was somehow involved. It is most famous for being the site of the Battle of the Boyne, the 1690 scuffle which decided the fate of Ireland and shaped the country we now know.

The bunting-clad main street has the usual abundance of high street stores all nestling around an imposing St Peters Cathedral. Home to the decapitated head of Saint Oliver Plunkett, enshrined and on show with his forearms, a grisly sight, but this doesn’t seem to put folk off enjoying a nice sandwich on the sun-soaked steps of the cathedral.

A major pull to this area is Irelands’ most famous monument, the megalithic masterpiece of Newgrange. A huge kidney-shaped passage grave or as legend tells it ‘fairy mound’ which at over 5000 years, is older than the Great Wall of China, Stonehenge and the Pyramids.

Newgrange is an awesome sight to see, but it really comes into its own during the winter solstice. During the five days of the mid-December solstice, the sun shines through the roofbox into the dark cavern of the grave, illuminating the abstract intricacy of the ancient stone carvings. But before you pack your mittens, hat and box brownie, only fifty lucky souls are allowed in the grave during the solstice each year. Invitation is by lottery only and just ten people on each of the five mornings are allowed entrance to witness this extraordinary event.

Our final night is spent in the sprawling, lush green gardens of the Boyne Valley Hotel. With the roar of its namesake river in our ears and cool pints of the black stuff in our hands, we reflect on this short trip to the Emerald Isle. With a flight time of less than an hour, a more rural Irish experience is more accessible than you may think. So, to misquote a famous Irish character, there is much of the east coast of Ireland to see outside of the bright lights of Dublin city, so just visit it, ah go on, go on, go on, go on.

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