'I can't wait to stand on Curracloe Beach again'

When you find a haven that satisfies body and soul, then common sense prevails - you keep going there.

Curracloe Beach is one such place that has ingrained itself in the psyche of generations of families, including mine and I can’t wait to stand on it again someday soon.

The moment I pull up outside ‘The Winning Post’ I can reimagine how my children used to sit on the back seat, little bags of coins clutched in their sweaty hands as they jostled to make a fortune on the machines.

The ‘Surf Shack’ has been gaining momentum in recent years. You’d often meet a group of teenagers teeth-chattering their way back down the boardwalk after an exhilarating experience on the waves.

Once you get to the top of the slope, the panoramic view is breathtaking, stretching from Blackwater through to Ballinesker and on to Rosslare Port.

Red fishing trawlers plying their trade appear minuscule compared with the sparkling white ferries heading off to France or Wales.

As my dog chased seagulls or snuffled the seaweed, I used to reflect on all the different footprints on the sand. The horse hooves of early morning gallops were almost erased by adults’ plodding and children’s urgent pounding; pawprints trailed the different bird patterns, which I wished I could identify.

Soft dunes

Curracloe doesn’t boast craggy cliffs, but the soft sand dunes that undulate to the beach are enough to take the rough edge off your everyday problems.

I would quickly fall into a soothing rhythm of bend, pick, throw as the dog charged into the froth to retrieve a stick.

Alternatively, you might choose to walk or cycle through the forest at Ravens Point, checking out the rare orchids and red squirrels that inhabit the area.

Tantalising glimpses of the sea can tempt you to veer off course and return to the beach. However, if you continued to the end of the “spit” to observe the Brent geese on the North Slobs, a Robinson Crusoe-like landscape would be revealed; scattered with flotsam and sculpted branches.

Broody clouds might hasten your stroll or a motley family group enshrouded in a square of windbreakers would amuse with scandalous tales

Afterwards, I loved to walk back to the ‘Surf Shack’ and claim a reward of good-quality coffee before leaving my favourite spot.

No two visits were ever the same: broody clouds might hasten your stroll or a motley family group enshrouded in a square of windbreakers would amuse with scandalous tales as you lay close by on a towel. It never ceased to amaze me how sunglasses provide anonymity to an eavesdropper.

My last trek, before COVID-19 descended on our world, was an interesting one. I noticed an old lady in the distance as she tackled the incline at the forest end of the beach.

Her son attempted to take her arm, but she flapped him away. I could see the slight shrug of his shoulders as his wife turned round in mild irritation.

Memories

Deciding to walk further on to allow her find her way up slowly, I turned back some minutes later. There she was, sitting alone - crouched under marram grass, a wizened arm sinking like a tripod in the sand. Her eyes never left the horizon as I went past.

“Great place for memories,” I smiled.

“Aye, it is, thank God.”

I hope it won’t be long before she and I get back there to create some more.