Come summer, there is nothing finer than a coastal walk. We’ll hope that the sun is shining, that there are fine views saturated with the blues and greens of both sky and water; if we’re really lucky the wind will blow and that and the ozone all around will really unlock those endorphins. Yes, there is nothing finer than a coastal walk.

A coastal walk in West Cork may well give you all of these things. While there is no continuous coastal path, there is mile after mile of natural, un-disturbed coastline. Think of the wilder parts of the Pembrokeshire Coastal path – only here there is much, much, more of it. While I wasn’t on a walking holiday per se, I was able to take in a couple of fine coastal walks, and I thought I’d produce a trail report on the two of them.

The Sheep’s Head Peninsular

This was the first of my walks, and the most handy as I was staying on the peninsular. On the day I arrived I had a drive down to the tip of the peninsular and a good sniff around. There were a handful of walkers and backpackers to be seen, perhaps un-surprising as the complete Sheep’s Head path runs through stunning scenery and the path is well sign-posted. But when walking, myself, I had the route all to myself.

After looking at various alternatives I decided to follow Paddy Dillon’s route. He’s a clever chap Paddy; he knows how to eek out every last bit from a walk. Paddy’s walk starts from the little café at the end of the walk, near the head of the peninsular. But to start, Paddy sets you off walking away from the headline, a fine tactic which avoids day trippers and those content to just amble from the café to the point and back.

The route climbed high to a ruined signal tower and then followed a spiny ridge overlooking a wonderful bay and a strip of fertile land at the side of the water. After a while the walk descended to some lovely tracks that weaved their way past some stunning little cottages that were perched high above the water. The hedgerows were wonderful, packed full of ripe blackberries, fuchsias and other colourful plants – indeed, those whole of this area of West Cork is blessed with such wonderful boundaries.

Sheep’s Head Hedgerow

But we were only just warming up. After a few miles the route turned inland to cross the narrow peninsular to the northern shire. Here the views were stupendous, looking across a glorious Bantry Bay (and its islands) towards a line of magnificent mountains than ran parallel to the bay.

Bantry Bay – I would have needed a panoramic camera to have done it justice

The route turned back towards the head of the peninsular and suddenly the walking was through much wilder country. This is a lonely spot with little fertile land. Despite the name there are few sheep here. The EU no longer dispenses subsidies to sheep farmers but, these days, prefers to encourage them not to over-farm. Regulations also forbid the grazing of sheep on mountains during the winter. The combination of these things means that the lad is returning to a more natural state. In many ways the flora is less diverse as the heather and bracken re-asserts itself. But the effect is, nonetheless dramatic.

Sheep Head ruin – and waymark!

It must have been a hard life farming here. Later in my stay I heard from a farmer of retirement age who was – these days – concentrating on a rather fine B&B. Water was so sparse on the Sheep’s Head that he had to make a choice; it was either the B&B or the farm – there was no enough water for both.

I came to a small, ruined, settlement that was also a reminder of how hard life was. This settlement was abandoned in the 1940s. Each of the stone ruins presented solid walls to the bay and the sea, their only windows looking inland to the side of the hill. Winter weather here must be harsh, very harsh indeed.

Coastal walks can often present themselves as wilderness but the evidence of settlement is never far away. I next came to the remains of a small copper mine. Paddy’s book told me that there are copper mines across all of the headlands of this area. This particular mine was developed by a Cornish entrepreneur and mined by Cornish men, but there was only ever one shipment of ore than left this place.

Beyond a tiny cluster of settlements the path became truly wild as it headed towards the tip of the peninsular. The walking became harder, the land boggier, but the views remained just as spectacular. After twelve miles of walking I came across the small lighthouse and picked my way through crags to scramble to a grassy ledge at the very end of the land and the beginning of the ocean. There was nothing between me and North America.

It was a fine, fine, afternoon, the dipping sun shimmering and shining on the see. Now I was joined by leisure walkers who’d strolled down from the car park. We all sat and marvelled at this vast expanse of vivd blue ocean. We were rewarded by the site of a school of dolphins jumping high and playing quite close to the shore.

Walkers gazing out from the Sheep’s Head

Bear Island

There are many islands along the coastline of West Cork, many of them being so substantial as to present the hiker with many hours of walking.

Bear Island Standing Stone

My second coastal walk was on Bear Island which sits only a 15 minute ferry ride off the mainland of the Bera peninsular. There’s quite a community here and the walk starts by traversing a tarmac road of the north east, passing lovely cottages and farms along the way. Soon the path cut away from the sheltered north of the island and headed upland towards the rugged cliffs of the un-prtected south side of the island. There was nothing particularly special about this walk but for four or five hours I meandered through a treeless landscape captivated, once again, by this stupendous blue and green vista.

This was carefree walking at its best, although on a really blustery day I guess it would have been quite a challenge.

Ruined Tower at a high point on Bear Island

My walk was just eight miles but if I’d felt disposed I could have taken a longer route that would have been nearer eighteen, but which would have included a lot more road walking.

I could have spent my whole holiday meandering along this coast and across the many islands of the area. On my last day I took a ferry to Cape Clear, an island that has bounced back from a tragic past. This whole area had been decimated by the great famine. The emigrants left for the new world from the coastline and the Fastnet lighthouse was the last bit of Ireland that they saw, hence the local nickname for the Fastnet rock – “Ireland’s Teardrop”.

Stone wall on Cape Clear

Today tourism treats Cape Clear well. There is a fair amount to see here without the island ever feeling that it has been spoilt. Cape Clear survives as a centre for the Gallic language and while I was on the island an international festival of storytelling was just getting underway.

I was on Cape Clear for nothing more than a stroll, to amble down gentle lanes, along stunning hedgerows and to gaze out to sea. I could though have tackled a twelve mile walk which – I’m certain – would have been quite spectacular. As it was I was happy to settle for a wonderful strawberry ice cream that was made from goats milk.

This is wonderful coastal path country. There is so much of it that it would take months to explore properly. If you like walking near the see, then you’ll love this place.