JOIN USThere is nothing like an eerie ghost story that excites a traveller on a road trip, especially if it is on a bitterly cold and windswept morning. The wind is howling through the trees like wailing banshees. The sky is grey and the temperature slides below 0°C.
I am standing in front of a gaunt mansion that looks straight out of Downtown Abbey. The meadows spread out in front of me, overlooking the Irish sea and the Morne Mountains. But today, everything is cast in a veil. I am in a 300-year-old country house called Ardigallan Castle, located between Balbriggan and Skerries, outside Dublin.
On a windy day...
It is a windswept morning. The sea is angry and the skies are grey. And the mood is right for melancholy. A tragic ghost story awaits us as we sit down for tea, which is almost a traditional ritual here. Biting into delicious scones and cakes, I take a tour of the castle and its beautiful gardens. And that is where I hear of Lady’s Stairs, a bridge that connects the railway line between Dublin and Belfast near the Irish sea. An ideal place for train spotting, it is haunted by a lady, who was a guest at the castle. Unfortunately, the sea swallowed her while she was swimming and her body was later brought back to the castle. Even today, the story goes that her spirit hangs around Lady’s Stairs and her apparition has been seen in the castle as well. “You can see her reflection in one of these photographs,” says our tour guide, as I see a trace of a spectre in one of them.
I shiver a bit as the winds tear through the trees. We continue on our journey to Skerries, a seaside town near Dublin with a history that dates back to the 4th century. The Vikings had landed here eons ago, giving the town its name, “Sciers” or sharp rocks.
It is the harbour that first draws our attention. Perhaps this beckoned the Vikings too who later recognised the significance and settled here. Skerries’s origins began as a fishing port but with steam ships docking here, it eventually became a trading port. Passengers used to sail here from nearby Dublin and a pier was built much later. Standing there, I am smitten by the charms of this pretty fishing hamlet. It is a lazy afternoon as boats lie anchored to the shores and the town is cast in a deep slumber.
Skerries is filled with churches — St Patrick’s is the first that I see on Church Street. But the one that grabs my attention is the Holmpatrick Church of Ireland that stands in an ornate style, while the ruins of an older church stand adjacent to it, in deep contrast.
But it is not monuments and museums that fascinate me. The symbol of Skerries is not the towering obelisk of the Skerries Monument but a 5 sail windmill called the Great Windmill of Skerries that greets the torrential winds and touch the sky. I am at one of the oldest and quaint mills in the town. Although flour has been milled here since the 12th century, the 2 restored windmills in Skerries Mills go back to the 16th and the 18th centuries. There is a water mill and a bakery here that takes you back to an era of old world charm.
The sea calls out to us. I can barely see the outline of the craggy cliffs however, as I stand along the shore and look at the oceans, mired in mist. There are several islands here, of which Shennick is one of the largest and can be accessed during low tide. All I can see through the haze is a large tower built by the paranoid British during the 19th century to defend themselves from Napoleon. The British built several of these coastal fortresses, assuming that Napoleon may invade Ireland and one of them is in Red Island, which is a misnomer for an island. It is very much a part of the mainland. Fascinated by the name, I ask the guide about it and he explains that the freshly painted red sails tinged the soil with the dye, giving a crimson hue to the island.
Religious flavour
Our tryst with Skerries is, however, mystical. On this cold windswept day, we are here to follow in the footsteps of Ireland’s patron saint, St Patrick, who visited here as early as the 7th century. He landed in the island that is now called St Patrick’s Island. All that remains here, however, are ruins of an old monastery raided by the Vikings and churches built by the saint and his followers. But our guide takes us to Red Island where an interesting relic of his life awaits us.
Walking along the edge of the cliff, we were literally blown by the wind. A flock of seagulls fly in from nowhere and dip into the cold waters forming a fabric of white. Legends and myths have always fascinated me and here is one on a rainy day.
Locals say that St Patrick was accompanied by a goat when he landed here. However, the people killed it one day and denied any knowledge of it. A livid saint literally leapt to the mainland, striding across 2 islands — with one foot on Colt Island and another on Red Island. Even today people come from far and near to see the mystical footprint of the saint in the latter island.
Standing along the rocky environs where some bushes and shrubs are scattered around, I see the impression filled with water. “Close your eyes, put a shamrock there and make a wish,” says my guide and I promptly do, hoping for another date with this charming town soon.
Fact file
How to get there
Skerries is a little seaside town, which is 20 km from Dublin. It can be either a day trip or a weekend getaway by road. The islands are accessible by boat.
Activities
From golf courses to sailing clubs, Skerries offers sporting and adventurous activities. Skerries is a great destination for bird watchers as well.
Stay
Accommodation is available in the form of gold retreats, bed and breakfasts and boutique hotels.