A single streetlight glowed brightly in the darkening evening as I approached a small wooden door. As it grew closer, the silhouette of a familiar figure emerged. It wasn’t a man, but rather a faun, bowing down to shake my hand – and all at once I’d stepped into the pages of my favourite childhood books containing the fantastical world of Narnia.
Yet this was no imagined place. It was, instead, a fittingly magical introduction to the lakeside (or, rather, loughside) village of Rostrevor, situated on the coast of Carlingford Lough in County Down.
I was standing outside the Rostrevor Inn (pre-beer, I should add), at dusk, where a wall mural of the aforementioned Mr Tumnus – created by author CS Lewis, who based his fictional world in the wardrobe on this village and surrounding area – greets visitors.
It took me a little by surprise, as until that point I’d been following in the footsteps of another equally thrilling character – though one that most scholars agree actually did exist – that of Ireland’s charismatic patron saint.
The St Patrick’s Way is a 132km (82 mile) walking route, first planned 10 years ago, then officially opened in 2015 by the late artist Alan Graham who was inspired by his experience walking the Camino de Santiago in Spain. The idea, wrote Graham, was to link key sites relating to Patrick bringing Christianity to Ireland and, by doing so, create a pilgrimage “of many colours, feelings and memories to cherish”. It runs between the city of Armagh (64km southwest of Belfast), AKA the ecclesiastical capital of Ireland (more on that later) and ends at Downpatrick, the place where the saint is purportedly buried.
I arrived at Rostrevor at dusk at the end of day three of this six-day trail. Along for the ride was my 11-month-old son, who, I figured, would never be too young to learn about the joys of a long-distance walk. So far I’d discovered that Patrick had banished snakes from the country, raised 33 people from the dead and – perhaps the most plausibly – taught the concept of the Holy Trinity to the Pagans using the shamrock. All these events felt as if they could easily have been lifted from the oft-theorised Christian allegorical tale of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, so it seemed fitting that part of this walk now also ran in tandem with the story of Narnia itself.
Up until this point the trail had largely followed an existing cycle route on quiet country roads. Highlights had included Navan Fort – the site of a Celtic temple from the year 95BC, which is now a grassy mound said to be the birthplace of kings and queens (which, it must be noted, felt very Cair Paravel to a Narnia aficionado), and the twin hilltop cathedrals of St Patrick in Armagh – the simple stone Anglican one said to be the site where he built his first stone church in 445 and the imposing double-spired, grey Catholic number, built 1,400 years later. Then there was the towpath along the Newry Canal from Scarva to Newry – AKA the oldest summit level canal in Great Britain and Ireland, which, since its retirement as a trade route, has become something of a wildlife corridor featuring otters, mink, an abundance of birds, 19 species of butterflies, damselflies and dragonflies; and the views from Carlingford Lough of the nearby Cooley Mountains.
Despite enjoying walking through the landscapes and pre- and post-Christian sites, as we began day four, our pilgrim passports filling up nicely with stamps – from 10 different outdoor locations along the route – I was hungry to feel terrain beneath my feet that wasn’t tarmac.
This day’s section would see me head up into Kilbroney Park – known fondly in mountain bike circles for its many trails. We entered the woodland. Almost immediately the distinct scent of damp pine trees filled my nose, and the soft squelch of a muddy footpath sucked at my boots. As we climbed higher on the path I stopped to admire oak, cedar, beech and sycamore specimens. Eventually the trees thinned and we emerged on to a faint, boot-beaten trail on the flanks of the lower Mourne Mountains.
“I have seen landscapes, notably in the Mourne Mountains and southwards which under a particular light made me feel that at any moment a giant might raise his head over the next ridge,” wrote CS Lewis of these peaks. As we broached the saddle between Rocky Mountain and Tornamrock I was inclined to agree. Though I’d been to the top of the Mournes before, I’d never seen them from this angle. There wasn’t another soul around, the cloud shrouded the higher tops like a pilgrim’s cowl, but as we descended my son shrieked in delight as it began to evaporate to reveal the pronged summit of Hen Mountain ahead. I stopped to feed him, and, looking at his cosy waterproof all-in-one, marvelled at how difficult this passage would have been for St Patrick back in the days before Gore-Tex and pre-bookable accommodation.
Speaking of which, as the St Patrick’s Way didn’t spawn naturally as a pilgrim route like its Spanish equivalent, which meanders through handily placed towns and villages, but rather as a desire to link sites using existing footpaths, logistics can be an issue. As such I’d pre-booked a taxi to pick us up at Spelga Pass, splitting up this fairly remote 38km section, so that we could overnight in nearby Newcastle, before returning to the trail the next morning to pick up where we left off.
Fish and chips were the easiest pilgrim feast to grab on arrival at the seaside town and, followed by an early night, I awoke to the view of Northern Ireland’s highest point, Slieve Donard, just peeking out from the mist. I took it as a good sign as it’s said a hermit’s cell lingers in the cairn of this mountain as well as the remains of a small chapel that was frequented by Donart, one of Patrick’s disciple-cum-Pagan converts.
That day was one of the best: we summited the deliciously named Butter Mountain, where we caught a glimpse of the taller peaks, before descending into Tollymore Forest Park, where the proliferation of giant redwoods, old stone bridges, rocky outcrops, grottos, caves and stepping stones made me feel as if I had, once more, returned to Narnia.
We only met one other pilgrim on the entire walk – a local woman called Donna, from Armagh who, with her friend, had begun completing short sections of it during lockdown. “Of course I was raised a Catholic,” she explained as she leafed through her well-used pilgrim passport, “but that’s not why I’m doing it. For me it’s about discovering my own country. But the walk itself is very calming and somehow spiritual.”
The final stretch on my last day was calming, as Donna had described: a walk along the beach, passing through Murlough Nature Reserve, on what’s also known as the Lecale Way (which colloquially was once called the St Patrick’s Way as it was believed he travelled along the coast).
With sore legs from hours treading on sand, and the last leg on tarmac through quiet farm roads, I ended my exploration in the saint’s footsteps, fittingly, at the place where he ended his life’s journey. Here a stone is simply marked “Patrick”.
When we approached the adjacent St Patrick Centre, which marks the official end of the pilgrimage, we were greeted by a familiar figure once more – but this time it was the larger-than-life image of the man I had been following. Inside, I proudly swapped our fully stamped passports for “Compostelas” (pilgrim’s certificates) and mused how this pilgrimage as mum and son had been something of a baptism of fire. Exhausted (me) but elated (definitely him), we sat down to watch a short film on the history of St Patrick’s arrival to Ireland, first as a slave and then as a missionary, and his work including the many miracles and the banishment of all snakes.
As a non-Catholic, the legends sounded like a tumultuous romp that even Hollywood might back away from for being too far-fetched. Much like friends stared in disbelief when I said I’d completed a long-distance walk with a baby on my back. Yet, now that I’ve done it, a part of me believes that in the land that spawned fauns, a talking lion and a white witch, all inside a wardrobe, anything is possible.
Phoebe was a guest of Tourism Northern Ireland and ireland.com. Accommodation options vary from hostels to B&Bs, pubs and hotels all along the route, apart from the section around the Mournes, where taxis are recommended to and from two nights’ accommodation in Newcastle. There’s a hostel in Armagh and Newcastle and the option to splurge at Killeavy Castle in Newry and the Slieve Donard Resort before your final section. For detailed maps and guidance about the different stages of the St Patrick’s Way check out Walk NI.
