We rode bicycles through the clear early morning air to Dun Ducathair. Our innkeeper warned us that the day trippers would rush to the more famous Dun Aonghasa as they hurried to visit “the most magnificent barbaric monument in Europe” before the ferry departed for Doolin or Galway Bay. Having visited both Duns in the space of a day, I submit that if faced with a choice, you should abandon your ferry, your friends, and your guidebook and walk the many miles over rough karst boundary markers to Dun Ducathair, the Black Fort.
There are high fences there now, but when I was little the chainlink only reached a foot above my head. My dad would pick me up and we would gaze at the manmade waterfall in awe. I never feared falling into those depths since I wanted to badly to explore them. When I was a teenager I scooted under the fence and wandered along above the falls and under the road but not too far as it’s a busy road and a small enough town that someone would have recognized me and call my parents, my pastor, or both.