I didn’t think I’d like Northern Ireland. It’s probably because of my Irish grandmother’s disdain for the British. What could the North possibly have to offer that’s worth leaving the Republic? Kinbane, that’s what.
I took my family to Ireland for three weeks in 2024. I’d been twice before — for a month in a house swap when I was seven, and for a month a decade later travelling with friends on the Irish Experience for my Grade 11 English credit. I wanted to retrace my steps with my wife and kids — and we sure did, all the way up to recreating photos and visiting dozens of precise spots that had been seared into my soul on previous trips.
Ireland is a primordial part of my being. When I still had an afro, I would describe my ethnic background as having Bajan hair, a Polish nose, and a Celtic heart. There’s something about the place that beckons me, something about the land that places my whole past and future before me — like I’m feeling 30 years back, 50 years forward, and 1000 years in either direction all at once. The yearning of my heartspace is fundamentally Irish — a longing for Mhuínse (and we almost went there too — believe me I looked it up and tried to make it happen).
So much of this trip was retracing my steps with my heart as a homing beacon. But the place that most captured my heart was a place I’d never been before on the Antrim coast.
Northern Ireland was an afterthought in my trip planning. Why bother leaving the South? I suppose I was also scared off because it was a different place during the Troubles, so we did not visit in 1994. But Keith from theirishroadtrip.com — who became a dear but distant partner in planning this trip — made a compelling case for an Antrim Coast road trip, and I figured we could make a day trip from Dublin to Belfast, up the Antrim Coast road, and back. What seemed like a detour to the Giant’s Causeway ended up causing me to mark my map for the place I most want to return.
After an early morning departure from Dublin, first breakfast at Insomnia, and second breakfast (or was it lunch?) at a Belfast McDonald’s, we set off further north — on the left side of the road, and in miles per hour — making for Dunluce and the Giant’s Causeway, after which we’d head back on the inland highway and stop for dinner in Belfast en route back to Dublin (we fell in love with the Zizzi Italian restaurant chain). I marked OpenStreetMap with a couple dozen spots along the coastal drive so we could visit as many as time would allow. Dunluce is hard to forget, with jagged ruins like teeth on the edge of the cliff, and the legend of the kitchen that fell into the sea. Carrick-a-Rede was also worth a stop, and we just did quick drivebys at many other stops like Dunseverick and Carrickfergus. There was too much ground to cover in one short day trip from Dublin, and the drive itself was half the draw. But at Kinbane, we stopped and left the car to walk, because we couldn’t see the castle from the road.
My kids say there’s been a different theme for each of our road trips — waterfalls through Western Canada (“another waterfall??”), museums through the US northeast (we started with a blitz of Smithsonians and cemented the theme by watching Night at the Museum in the evenings), and, well, playgrounds through the Maritimes (the kids were younger and many things were closed during the pandemic). In Ireland, the theme was castles.
Castle after castle, we’d constantly ask each other: Which is your favourite castle now? What are your top three? How do your rankings compare with Keith’s? Muckross Abbey was otherworldly, like a place from the Ocarina of Time or Breath of the Wild, or really like Rivendell or Lothlórien or someplace Elvish. Bunratty Castle was a childhood favourite — I’m a McNamara and I remember flashes of exploring it from my visit at age seven. (It’s what I always think of when I think of a medieval castle.) But nothing compares to the experience of first laying eyes on Kinbane.
From the parking lot, you can’t see the castle. You take a walking trail a brief way round the rocky cliffside and towards the water. There are ruins somewhere ahead, but you can’t see them — until, suddenly, you can. As you round the bend, you see it all at once: the path dives down steeply, and far below and a bit back up the other side, on a narrow extension of the rocky coastline, lie the ruins of Kinbane Castle. Scotland visible in the distance, the rocky edge of Ireland holds the little that remains of the castle. To experience the transformation of a rather ordinary coastal trail into a bridge to the ruins down below and out into the water felt like walking through a portal. It’s like a rocky hand is stretching out into the sea — relaxed, palm facing upwards — and the ruins of Kinbane lie out towards the end of Ireland’s index finger. As you step round the bend, past the palm of the land’s hand, you must first descend steeply along the base of the finger and across the joint below, before beginning a much smaller but still steep ascent towards what’s left of the castle at the upper joint. Like the hand of Ireland delicately balances Kinbane on its finger to show you something precious and fragile.
After our high school trip to Ireland, my best friend and bandmate wrote in our song, Halton’s Post, about our visit to Kinsale at the opposite edge of the island, almost kitty-corner to Kinbane.
And in Kinsale, on the lonely coast of Ireland
Just past the harbour, where a dozen bright sails soar
Once stood a castle, but now lies only ruins
It strikes me odd that only cold wind calls it home
Except, it wasn’t actually a castle in Kinsale — it struck me odd as I realized on this past trip that it was a British fort. Yet at Kinbane Head lies the trace of a castle on the lonely coast of Ireland. To reach Kinbane Castle, you must first round the bend, and then descend below, before you can rise up the other side. Down below, at the edge of the finite, once stood a castle, practically hidden from the mainland. Now, at this place that feels like a secret, lies only ruins. Only cold wind calls it home — yet, with just one look, I felt like I belonged there too.
Keith may have ranked it #22, but Kinbane is first among castles on my list and in my heart.
(Photo credit: Chris Brooks CC BY-ND)
