Jan 26, 2024

Wild Atlantic Way

Words & Photos By Tyler Cunningham
Wild Atlantic Way

It felt a lot like home, Ireland. I suppose in a bizarre way it is, as my ancestors planted their roots in county Sligo on the North West coast of the country in the early 1700's after immigrating from Scotland. Ireland has been at the top of my travel list since long before I found out there was surf there. I formed images in my head of what the landscape would look like from seeing pictures, videos and hearing stories of infamous rocky basalt point breaks and shallow heaving slabs. Every image I had crafted fell short in comparison to seeing it all in person for the first time.

We touched down in Dublin after about 20 hours of travel. With almost no sleep, we jumped into the right side of our rental car, a Peugeot wagon. I tried to gain my bearings as I attempted to drive on the opposite side of the road for the first time with a foggy brain and tired eyes. My wife, Shelby and our daughter, West, made it to our hotel room after about a half hour drive from the airport and slept for nearly 14 hours to shake the jet lag. We explored the vibrant downtown of Dublin, ate delicious food, listened to some incredibly talented street musicians and of course, drank several pints of ice cold Guinness. The next day we made our way across the country to the coast I had so long been waiting to see.

Passing through each small village, we were awestruck by the endless miles of hand stacked stone walls dividing fields that hosted clusters of soaking wet sheep and cattle. The centuries old churches, homes, barns and of course Castles scattered the rich green rolling hillsides. We found out quickly that most of these small towns shut down right after New Years. Many of the quaint cafes, bakeries and restaurants close for a month or so after the new year. To be honest, it's something I wish we did here at home too. The Irish value time together, and the main meeting place is the pub. We spent some time sitting in small pubs over hearing friends of varying ages laughing and telling stories I'm confident have been told many times before.

I spent several hours the first morning we were on the coast just driving up & down small gravel roads between farms. Each dead end seemed to showcase a staggering amount of mind bending set ups. Left and right points, framed by ominous black cliffs. Random craggy slabs, some of which pulled bone dry before exploding on flat rock pads. Cobblestone bays that had peeling waves mirroring each other on either side. I couldn't believe the number of outlandish geographic features that offered so many different kinds of waves. I got so carried away exploring I almost forgot to even get in the water that first day. I surfed alone the next two weeks that we were there aside from one session at a fairly popular right-hand point. There were about 10 guys out. Everyone was so friendly, trading off on waves and hooting and hollering at each other when you'd make a good section. I got to talking with this one guy who appeared to be in his mid to late 50's. A good surfer and clearly knew everyone in the lineup. I could tell he didn't have an Irish accent. As we talked on the cliff after getting out of the water, he told me he came to visit from his home in Australia and had never gone back. That was 30 years ago, and to be honest I felt like doing the same. The country had a deep magnetism for me. I have never seen so much visible history. As a builder myself, I was dumbfounded by the numerous stone structures dating back to as early as the beginning of the 13th century. I couldn't help but imagine people from that time period watching these incredible waves rolling through these points.

Traveling with my family is one of my greatest joys. We make it a top priority to leave home a couple times a year to spend time together away from the demands of everyday life and work. It's also really important to us to get our daughter to see places and meet people of different cultures, beliefs and backgrounds. There also is truly something so relatable within the cold water culture even from one continent to another. As much as I love stepping into warm clear water in board shorts, wearing a wetsuit is just fine by me. It's how I've spent the significant majority of my time in the ocean over the last 20 years I've been surfing. You can always feel this sort of a kinship with other surfers when stuffed into 5mm's of neoprene. I am confident we will be back to Ireland. The country's vast beauty feels nearly supernatural. The people we met were so kind and inviting. The waves were just the icing on the cake of what was one of my favorite trips I've ever been on. I'll never forget the time spent traversing this stunning coastline and can't wait for the next chance to return to it.

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It felt a lot like home, Ireland. I suppose in a bizarre way it is, as my ancestors planted their roots in county Sligo on the North West coast of the country in the early 1700's after immigrating from Scotland. Ireland has been at the top of my travel list since long before I found out there was surf there. I formed images in my head of what the landscape would look like from seeing pictures, videos and hearing stories of infamous rocky basalt point breaks and shallow heaving slabs. Every image I had crafted fell short in comparison to seeing it all in person for the first time.