Walking over that shimmering land I dreamed about

Robin negotiates the Causeway Coastal Route to discover the shimmering land at the end of the Arran rainbow

A s a boy I spent many a holiday gazing out from Arran towards a distant land that always shimmered just out of reach on the horizon. That coast was Northern Ireland and today I’m in that promised land of my boyhood driving the famous Causeway Coastal Route.

The Causeway Coastal Route is a brilliant idea. The UNESCO World Heritage listed Giant’s Causeway was already popular, but this 120-mile driving route was dreamed up to spread tourists around and open up swathes of this country’s remarkable scenery.

And what remarkable scenery it is. We are talking about mile upon mile of the sort of coastline you see starring in car adverts. The route hugs the coast most of the way, snaking around sweeping bays, cutting across wee coves and opening up vast white stretches of sand that linger off as far as the eye can see. In the background the brooding hulk of the Antrim Glens and hills ranks up the spectacular factor.

I’m starting my adventure in Belfast, though you can equally kick off at the other end in Derry-londonderry. I thoroughly recommend spending at least a night in the dynamic capital, a city that has shot up the tourist charts in recent years. This is in large part thanks to the Titanic Museum.

I’ve mixed feelings about a city whose number one claim to fame is that they built a ship that sank! But the story – both of this ill fated vessel and the tragic human death toll – is brilliantly and evocatively told. My favourite part is the wagon ride around the clanking shipyards. On my one night in town I literally swallow the cliché of a pint of Guinness in the legendary Crown Bar, a glorious old world haunt with lashings of character, as I peruse my driving maps.

I settle for one pint as the next day I’m off early on the Great Causeway Route. Soon I shake off the city and the big skies start to open up as the Irish Sea blinks back to my right. My first stop is at the Gobbins. This historic cliff walk first opened in 1902, but it lay neglected for years before being re-opened in 2015.

The Gobbins now comes with a new series of handrails, bridges and decking carved around the rugged coastal cliffs. It is like some sort of zany pedestrian rollercoaster as you bash around tight corners, drop down through rock funnels and whizz high above rocky coves. The guided walking tours take around three hours and are great value at £15. It is worth it for seeing the puffins alone. You often see dolphins on this craggy coastline too.

Pushing on north I peel around the coast with distant views back to Ailsa Craig and Kintyre in Scotland. No sign yet of Arran, but I know the playground of my childhood is out there somewhere. The coastline I am driving proves very similar, all raised beaches, rugged rocks and sandy strips. Inland I see the famous nine Glens of Antrim already teasing me back for a repeat visit to this soulsnatching corner of the globe.

You could tackle the Great Causeway Route in one very rushed day, but I’m lingering a little longer, breaking my journey in Ballycastle for two nights. This trim town on the north coast is within striking distance of Scotland and indeed a ferry service to Campbeltown has operated on and off over the years.

The next day I cannot resist catching a ferry across to the wee isle of Rathlin, which tempts just offshore. I was brought up visiting the cave where King Robert the Bruce saw the famous spider try and try again on Arran so I’m intrigued to find Rathlin stakes a rival