Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland
I am not a religious person. I am not even particularly spiritual. However, certain places will draw that sense of oneness from you.
Giant’s Causeway is a world heritage site on the northern coast of Northern Ireland, which at first can be a bit daunting to get to, but the buses are pretty easy to navigate if you want to avoid the expensive tours. I flew from Glasgow to Belfast, then took a couple of buses to get to the causeway. There is one major hotel, one hostel, and a lesser-known bed and breakfast in the area, and the nearest proper town is Bushmills. I loved the bed and breakfast. It had a beautiful view, a reasonable price, and was within walking distance of the causeway (I went twice).
The proximity to the causeway was one of the greatest benefits because I found out after my first time that there wasn’t a charge. At the main entrance, they funnel guests toward the visitor’s center, making it seem as if that was the only way to view the famed hexagonal basalt columns. While the center was lovely, and I learned a lot about the volcanic activity necessary to create the rare hexagonal patterns, it was a paywall to be circumnavigated. I learned from some locals that after the center closes and the tour buses stop coming, you can see the causeway with far fewer people, resulting in some epic, unobstructed sunset pictures, which is why I went twice.
On the first trip, I got the lay of the land, found a trail that walked the cliff, and was always within arms’ reach of another traveler.
The second trip was spiritual and enlightening. It sounds extreme, but I can’t express enough gratitude for my time there. I decided to head northeast to the start of the clifftop trail, which was about a 4-mile walk. Once there, I did not see another soul for the remainder of the hike; another 4 miles—golden hour shimmered off the cliffs, balanced with deep shadows created by the sharp angles of the columns. It gave me time to reflect and helped me clarify my goals. Walking can be like meditating, bringing epiphanies. I would have been content, but I still had the causeway ahead of me.
I’d already seen it, but it gained a new level of permanence and majesty in the fading light, with only a handful of people hanging out to see the sunset. The stones still stood, looking like a land cracked by an angry god. I sat atop one of the higher mounds and watched the sun slide below the horizon. I could feel the energy, the oneness of the place. I didn’t realize how much I’d been transported until I stood. I felt detached outside my body and couldn’t make my limbs work as expected.
No, I was not passing out. I’ve had the happen, and this wasn’t it. I did frighten the French family below me, but I was back fast enough to catch a rock before completely tumbling. In my reading later, I realized that I had something akin to a psychedelic experience despite my sobriety. A lot of the folklore from the visitors’ center felt very real at that point. Many factors could scientifically explain my experience, but I don’t want to get into that. I want to live with that time as it was. Magical. Transcendent.
