Being a tourist in such a small country has really opened my eyes to the culture of Ireland and its influence on a surplus of different principles. The very beauty of the green country and its natural splendor. At Giant’s Causeway, we were introduced to the magnificent majesty of the seaside and cliffs that Ireland are known for. Shaped by magma, as well as mythology, the marvel of the cliffs dagger over the clear water blues. Such wonder can only be summed up in the culture of storytelling, with a snarky giant’s antics forming the sensational sight. I sat on the cliffs overlooking the natural finery, meditated by the gentle breeze and consistent sense of spectacle.
The Dunluce castle, once owned by the MacDonald clan, was just a short drive from the cliffs. The once astonishing castle now lay in ruins, a call back to the way Ireland once was. Ruins, themselves, act as a means of communication. They are a physical manifestation of storytelling about culture, family, and art. We stood in the graveyard of rocks overlooking the choppy waters below. I wondered what the owners of the decrepit castle would think about tourists waltzing through their home with cameras and grins. What would we think of our architectural wonders reduced to mere rubble? The past is always exciting. History is emboldened in story. The cliffs of Ireland has endless stories to tell. The lush countryside is home to some of the most amazing sights I have ever seen. I too, will pass on the stories and legends I have learned today.