Going There #2: The Crossing
I picked the place on a map where my book’s desperate character would make the Crossing to the next island, but I didn’t know the significance of the town called Bray when I chose the site.
Young Irish goldsmith Levaen faces betrayal by her clan mother and her own father when they insist she save the island’s sacred peace by taking as her mate a man who threatens war unless she submits. She has fled her home, desperate to escape her plight. There’s a narrower Crossing to the north, but that’s a longer walk and her father may pursue her–with their dog to track her. She opts for the longer passage despite her fears of the long journey across the water. She has gone this way once before with her father. She must do it now on her own.
My journey to Bray was my second excursion on this trip to Ireland and unlike the tour to Newgrange described in “Going There: #1” here, I would do this one on my own.
I had researched the site on Google Maps and ways to get there, but I wanted to check with local sources for the best way to go. I had planned to explore Dublin over the weekend and go to Bray on Monday. But the forecast was for great weather on the weekend, so I decided to bump that plan up, given the iffy weather I’d experienced on the Friday tour to Newgrange.
On Saturday morning I stopped at the front desk in the hotel to ask one of the friendly people there what was the best way to get to Bray on Sunday. His face lit up. “Oh! It’ll be a perfect day in Bray tomorrow!”
I want to say here how much I loved my hotel in Dublin, the Castle Hotel where I stayed for eight nights. I didn’t think to take a photo of it, but their website is here with many photos. It’s an old Georgian building “set within nine elegantly restored Georgian townhouses.” The restoration has spiffed everything up while leaving the charm of finely molded woodwork, gracious windows and staircases (but with a modern lift).
Even more than the beauty of the building, though, I loved the friendliness of the staff–from the front desk to the two restaurants, and everyone else. The upstairs restaurant offered an amazing array of pastries, cereals, fruits, and more for breakfast. In the main downstairs restaurant, the Vault, Irish balladeers entertained us every night of the week. I dined there each night and enjoyed their music nearly every time so the wait staff soon began to treat me like a regular. One delightful young woman on the staff even gave me a hug when we happened to meet on busy O’Connell Street the morning I left.
So! Back to my visit to Bray! The man at the front desk of the hotel drew out a map and recommended that I take the train. He showed me the way to the train station and told me, “Watch for the spire.You won’t get lost on the main streets of Dublin if you watch for the spire.”
See that tall Spire rising into the sky behind the tree? This is O’Connell Street, the main thoroughfare of Dublin and that Spire can be seen from all around. It’s 390 feet high, made of bright, shiny stainless steel, and in a city where street signs are often obscure and street names may change from one block to the next, it can orient you when you might otherwise be unsure of your location.
I easily found the train station on Saturday and bought a ticket. The woman who sold it to me smiled and said Sunday would be a lovely day to visit Bray with the weather being so nice. What was it about Bray?
The train had the advantage over the bus because of the train route along the seashore. A lovely ride.
I caught the above shot from the train window. When the train finally pulled into Bray, last stop on the line, we still had a walk to get into the center of Bray and my Crossing on the far side. My hope was to climb up to the peak of Bray Head where a cross stood looking over the broad sea. If you look closely you can see it in the next two photos.
A seafront promenade followed the pebbly beach. That peak with the cross looked far.
No question how to find the way. The promenade moved right up the hill at the curve in the coastline. The cross still looked far.
Higher up, people were picnicking, and I got the full impression of what my character Levaen must have felt looking out on that wide sea she had decided to cross. Not in a ship. Not even a big boat. Just a simple currach. The currach in Levaen’s day was a narrow Irish boat with a frame of wood, like hazel rods and brush twigs, covered by animal skins, the raised pointed bow designed to take on the swells of the sea. Sometimes they carried a small sail to use if the wind was fair. Such boats were probably used by Neolithic settlers who crossed to the island long before. These hardy craft are still used today, but usually with wooden frames covered in canvas.
Just beside the green area shown in the previous photo I found this cove that fit my description, with a little rewording. Modern influences had no doubt changed it but this offered the impression of what might have been.
There was still the high point where that cross stood. Did I really need to go up there when I already had the feel of the place? I had worn my new running/walking shoes for this, and I found a staircase leading up in the right direction. Stairs and more stairs, and steep paths. I wasn’t even sure they led to that peak, but I supposed they must. I kept climbing.
I met a couple coming down and asked them, “Where do these steps go?”
“To the cross.”
Ah! “Is it far?”
He smiled. “Yes, it’s long.”
I kept going and found the wooded area above the Crossing where my protagonist Levaen might have camped out the night before she went down to the shore to meet the men who took passengers across. I stepped in among the gnarly trees, glad I had come this far. Yes, such a lovely woodland could have been here then. I could almost sense her there–afraid, determined.
Then I continued up the slope until I came to this.
That trail looked like an ankle turner. Maybe if I’d worn my high-top hiking boots I left at home because they’re too heavy. But not the low tops. I turned back. Would Levaen have had the good sense to skirt the peak and avoid such a landscape? Or was the landscape significantly altered in the 2800 years since the story’s timeline? It didn’t matter. The story doesn’t show that part. Her scene at this coast opens the morning she leaves her campsite in the woods to go to the sharp-edged dropoff and down a narrow trail to the cove.
I had found what I needed at Bray. It was time to work my way back to the train. The afternoon had warmed and I took off layers. An absolutely gorgeous day. It was after 2 o’clock by this time and I was getting hungry and thirsty. I’d seen ice cream and snacks along the beach. But I had reached the train station before I saw anything that appealed to me. There at the station a small shop had one raspberry scone left. I bought it and a drink to go with it. Scones were beginning to look like my Irish special lunch.
Back at the hotel I was so glad to find the man at the desk who had given me advice on getting to Bray and could tell him what a wonderful excursion it was and thank him for his advice. He was delighted and his eyes lit up as he commented, a bit wistfully, on what a fine day it was to go there.
That night at dinner I didn’t stay to the end of the music. I apologized to the head waiter and told him I had been to Bray so it was a long day for me. Then his eyes lit up and he asked if it was nice at Bray and when I told him how lovely the day was his whole expression warmed as if he could feel that sun shining on his own face. I was beginning to see that Bray was far more special to the Irish than I had supposed.
I’d just picked Bray to provide a coastal setting for the Crossing in my story, not knowing I had chosen a favorite getaway for Dubliners, if not the Irish from far about. I would later learn that Bray was one of the first seaside resorts in the country, going back to the Victorian era.
These pretty houses at Bray overlook that fine coast and give a glimpse of the historic nature of the place, if not as far back in history as I was imagining for my story. So it turned out to be kind of a twofer. I found what I needed for my story, and enjoyed a historic Irish resort as well.
