Ireland offers serene, rejuvenating vacations

There are many delights in Ireland’s National Museum, but as fascinating as prehistoric goldwork and Viking raids are, I hurry past. I’m here to see one thing: Bog Bodies.

I’ve never seen partly decomposed bodies before, and these Iron Age specimens discovered during peat cutting do not disappoint. I feel a slight mix of repulsion (it’s suspected many of them suffered a violent death), but also awe and curiosity. They’re surprisingly well preserved, thanks to the waterlogged bogs in which they were found. Despite the thousands of years that have passed, their skin, hair and even some facial features are intact, making me wonder where I can get some of that.

Other cultures have always fascinated me, particularly their health and wellness practices. I wouldn’t go so far as to say my visit was inspired by the preservation properties of the peat, more that Ireland looked so restorative, at least it did on Instagram.

All those rolling landscapes dotted with grazing sheep, criss-crossed by stone walls and hedgerows, oozed a timeless quality my weary soul could appreciate. I needed a respite and not the kind of pick-me-up induced by a whiskey and Coke.

Rather than focusing on historical points of interest, my holiday criteria was all about rejuvenating soft adventures and spa treatments. This is how I found myself at the southern tip of Dublin Bay after admiring the Bog Bodies.

Forty Foot is a swimming cove hemmed in by smooth rock formations with natural steps into the Irish Sea. All my stress about driving on the left-hand side of the road fizzled away the second I hit the bracing water. I gasped. I sputtered. And then I remembered to breathe — deep, long exhales as I adapted to the shock.

At some point, I no longer felt the cold — a balmy 14 C, a fellow bather told me. My skin tingled as I dog-paddled from one rocky outcrop to the next. I must have spent more than 20 minutes in the ocean, which might’ve been overkill, considering my claw-like fingers couldn’t zip up my pants afterward. No matter. I felt energetic and alert.

The next day, I checked into Portmarnock. The resort’s obvious draw is its golf course, but its seaweed bath reeled me in. Seaweed is full of nutrients that can stimulate collagen production, so I was hoping it would plump up my skin just like the bog preserved those 7,000-year-old bodies.

In the bath — deep, free-standing and copper — floated a kilo of the Atlantic’s finest hand-harvested seaweed. Climbing into this seaweed stew, which had steeped for two hours, I expected a gross-out factor, as the greenery can be fairly slimy. But this 300-year-old wellness tradition turned out to be incredibly soothing.

It’s recommended that I put the seaweed all over my face, body and hair. I do just that, all the while thinking how perfect this experience would be for anyone who want the benefits of the sea, but can’t brave going in.

Even when I didn’t have ropes of seaweed slung around my shoulders, the bath felt heavy and immersive, like a hot spring. After the recommended 45 minutes, I climbed out feeling cleansed and deeply nourished, though slightly disappointed in myself for not booking this as a warming treatment after a cold dip.

Each day, I hit the water some way, somehow. In Northern Ireland, I tried a SUP (standup paddleboard) and soda bread experience at Tracey’s Farmhouse Kitchen. Joe, Tracey’s partner, guided me across Strangford Lough, though the wind clocked 24 kilometres an hour. I was chilled to the bone when we came off the lake, but back at their farmhouse, freshly made soda bread slathered with butter warmed me to my core.

It was still whipping up when I visited Enniskillen, famous for its castle and for being the only island town in Northern Ireland. It’s also the first place I’d seen an e-board. This electric paddle board looks like a double-wide SUP, but with a big metal pole coming out of it to steer.

With my e-board from Erne Adventures, I happily puttered along the River Erne, past Enniskillen Castle and under eight bridges at 6.4 km/h. Without having to battle the wind, the experience was a breeze. I returned to shore refreshed, not exhausted. Still, I was ready to check in to the Old Inn in nearby Crawfordsburn after all that fresh air.

Oozing historical charm with its smoky interiors, thatched roof and wood-beamed ceilings, the inn dates back to the 1600s. C.S. Lewis honeymooned here, and I suspect I’m staying in the same room with its four-poster bed, which isn’t weird at all. After a few days of indulging in the inn’s Treetop Spa and its exceptional restaurant, I reluctantly move on to my final destination.

Finn Lough is touted as a luxury forest hideaway in Northern Ireland. Boosting bubble domes with transparent ceilings so you can sleep under the stars, I was wary of its marketing claims —until I set foot on the property. Prosecco offered at check-in will do that to you.

So will a spa trail that weaves through a float bath, saunas and relaxation rooms. It’s almost a challenge to sit back and soak up the surroundings when there are gin-tasting sessions, bikes to borrow and yoga classes on offer.

On my final morning, I find myself drawn to its lake. When water flows through peatlands or bogs, it can pick up the tannins, so the lake is rust-coloured.

I’m cautious at first, easing myself in toe by toe. Then I remember the Bog Bodies. If their immersion in the peat is any indication, this dip will keep me fresh long after I leave. I dive in.