A Rain-Drenched Romance: Matt & Heather’s Gap of Dunloe Adventure
Matt & Heather’s Rain-Soaked Adventure Through the Gap of Dunloe
Matt and Heather, a spirited couple visiting from Chicago, planned a day of photographing their love amid Ireland’s untamed wilds. As destiny would have it, the late-summer sun gave way to rain and wind—yet rather than spoil their day, it turned it into something magical.
Chasing Roots and Rain in County Kerry
Heather was tracing her family roots back to Cahersiveen while on a whirlwind trip that included Killarney and beyond. I met them at The Europe Hotel in Fossa, just outside Killarney. Fresh from six glorious weeks of sunshine, our timing could not have been worse—grey skies and rain rolled in, dropping temperatures into the mid-teens. With a Glance at the radar, I saw brief windows of clear light. I told them: “When that breaks, we move—because these are the moments that matter.”
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We set off toward the Wishing Bridge, nestled at the north end of the Gap of Dunloe—an iconic stone bridge perched between Coosaun Lough and Black Lake.
As the rain grew heavier, I suggested we ascend into the Black Valley, a remote glacial valley—so isolated it didn’t receive electricity until 1976.
Up the Mountain, Into the Mist
This road tests even seasoned drivers, and as Matt gripped the wheel, a stranded tourist’s car blocked our path. We rocked it free together, then continued upward to a vantage point overlooking what locals call “God’s country”. The rain eased momentarily, allowing us a desperate dash for a few shots.
I turned to them and said, “We have to embrace this rain.” To my delight, they did exactly that. Arm in arm, we dashed into the cold, camera shutters clicking.
Into the Heart of the Black Valley
We eventually reached the Black Valley, known in Irish as Cummeenduff — one of Ireland’s most remote landscapes.
Sheep grazed beside silent stone walls, looming mountains enclosed us, and time felt paused. We stopped at an abandoned slate house—a photographer’s dream, straight from another era.
Around here, you can see the real Ireland—weathered and ancient, wild and quiet, untouched by modern hustle. The landscape spoke for itself.
Stories Woven in Stone and Sky
We lingered by the slate house, rain framing every dramatic shot. The place—pastoral and cinematic—felt suspended. Our return trip along the same narrow roads was just as surreal: cold rain, laughter, damp jeans, but hearts alight. Here, in these moments, Heather and Matt surrendered to the journey—and it rewarded them.
