Today’s walk along the shore at Greystones was something special — the kind of day where nature reminds you who’s in charge. The wind was wild and persistent, the rain pouring down, waves crashing with a powerful drama. Even in that rawness, there was beauty: I spotted a few seals bobbing through the surf, birds riding the gusts, and the sea in moods of grey, silver, and foam.
Some days I just feel like walking through Dublin with no plan, letting the city take me where it wants. Today I started at Trinity College, right in the heart of the city. The square there is always alive—students rushing to classes, tourists trying to find their bearings. Trinity itself is one of Dublin’s oldest landmarks, but for me, it’s simply a place where I like to stand for a moment and watch people move.
From there I headed to Dublin Castle. The courtyard feels different—quieter, more open—though you can still sense the weight of history around the stone walls. I’ve passed this place countless times over the years, but every time I take a photo here, I notice some small detail I’d never paid attention to before.
Nestled in a serene field just north of Greystones, between tidy suburban homes and the glimmering Irish Sea, lies a little-known gem of history: St. Crispin’s Cell and the crumbling remains of Captain Tarrant’s Farmhouse. Although both share the same patch of land, they tell dramatically contrasting stories—one of preservation, the other of quiet decay.
Walking through the gap beside that modest pedestrian gate, you're greeted first by St. Crispin’s Cell, a compact yet beautifully preserved single-celled stone chapel built around 1530. Its sturdy walls, upstanding to the eaves, constructed from rubble and granite, instantly evoke reverence.Not much further on, almost hidden in the undergrowth, stand the thick, overgrown walls of Captain Tarrant’s Farmhouse—a two-storey L-shaped structure dating back to about 1710. You could nearly miss it if not watching carefully: vines and wild foliage cloak its stones, leaving you wondering whether another ruin lies just footsteps away.
Nestled in the heart of County Wicklow, often called the “Garden of Ireland,” lies the Glen of the Downs, a dramatic wooded valley carved out by glacial action thousands of years ago. Just a short drive from Dublin, this natural haven offers visitors a perfect escape into nature, steeped in history and brimming with wildlife.
The Glen of the Downs stretches for around 2.5 kilometres between the towns of Bray and Kilmacanogue, with the main Dublin–Wexford road (N11) running through its heart. Its steep, tree-clad slopes rise on either side of the valley, creating a striking natural corridor that has fascinated travellers for centuries.
The glen’s name comes from the Irish “Gleann Dá Ghrua” – meaning “valley of the two brows,” referring to the two ridges of hills that guard the valley. In the 19th century, the area became a popular stop for tourists exploring Wicklow, and its beauty was immortalised in paintings and writings of the time. Today, it remains a protected nature reserve under the care of the National Parks and Wildlife Service.
