When I was nine or ten the family toured the wild, remote Atlantic west coast of Ireland, from Cork to Kerry and the far western point of Europe on the Dingle Peninsula.

I had vague memories and a grainy scan of a print of an outlandish road winding down steep storm-shaped rocky cliffs to a concrete pier.

So when I was in Kerry last month I had to ride out there to re-find and shoot again this fantastical landscape.

Out along the Slea Head Drive clinging to the cliffs along Dingle Bay, past ancient houses, ruined farms, and random roadside religious shrines.

As the sun slowly moved into position over the Blasket Islands in the west.

And over a small rise, Dunquin appeared, possibly more preposterous than I remembered it.

An enjoyable hour was spent watching the weather develop and waiting for the light to be just right for the shot.

And for just a couple of minutes the sun broke through below the scattered clouds and shone through the grass for the picture I was looking for.

And then the light was gone and it was time for a swift night ride back to Dingle along the deserted clifftop road above the breaking waves.


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