Doing It All in Donegal......

After a very quiet night we walked the Fintra shoreline once more before departing and were soon pulled up at the parking for the dramatic Slieve League Cliffs - we paid for a couple of hours and set off up the last mile of tarmac to the first viewing point with its inevitable cluster of souvenir vans and a coffee shack. In glorious sunshine we decided to climb further for ever better views of the remarkable cliffs with the sea a variety of brillliant blues far below. Given the perfect conditions we climbed on and up to the SE summit with an exciting ridge scramble for me as Mandy took a lower but more sensible route. The views were superb in every direction and whilst there was a round trip possible by continuing to the second summit and descending in to the valley we were aware of overstaying our parking time. We passed another numbered Eire sign and a Napoleonic watch tower on our return and were relieved that the car park attendant let us off the additional fees as we had been out five hours. A night above the beautiful Silverstrand beach topped off a memorable day - we found the energy to descend the 160 or so steps for an afternoon in the sun on golden sands with a few hardy souls braving the waters.

 

Glencolumbkille Folk Village was fascinating, mainly due to the back story whereby the local preacher had decided to do something about the economic and population decline in this remote area so started a variety of village improvement projects ranging from installing fresh water to homes, building a community hall and creating the thatched replica buildings that housed a range of historic artefacts and provided an outlet for locally produced crafts. The modest but remarkable man's history was caught in a cine film shot at the time and his achievements remain to this day providing vital income to the area.

 

 

Wild mountain country, narrow roads and a long narrow valley brought us out to Port where a small pier provided a remarkable place to stay for the night with just one cottage under renovation a few hundred yards back along the road. A panicking lamb was quickly reunited with its mother before we walked along the coast, met a couple from San Francisco who had been at Slieve League and the Folk Museum earlier and spotted some remarkable patterns of lichen on the rocks. Back at the van there was, surprisingly a decent 3G signal allowing us to watch some IPlayer catch ups and other than a fisherman arriving at dawn we spent a night in total solitude.

Granny Pass was a narrow, twisty road over to Ardara where in heavy squalls we walked out to the remarkable sea caves at Maghera, accessible only at low tide, but returned to the van soaked so stuck the Eber on full blast and changed our clothing. A small museum at Glentiese was a bit gloomy and dated so didn't entertain us for long but the large dolmen out at Kilclooney was worth the walk over sodden fields passing two glum looking donkeys. The huge roof slab perched precariously on supporting stones would have been a mammoth task even for today let alone 7000 years ago. A small car park behind Dooey beach provided another quiet spot with a walk round the headland passing a small barrel shaped beach sauna that looked unlikely to make any profit and later we walked down to the sands again to watch a decent sunset.

 

With a service stop due we drove round to the community run campsite at Magherey which provided sheltered spots in the dunes with EHU for 20 euros. As we had arrived early there was time to take the bikes out for a surprisingly hilly circuit of the headland passing another lookout tower, some abandoned soapstone workings and a couple of empty cottages that would be superb for renovation before returning along the maze of lanes back to the site with a brief stop in Dungloe for bread and milk. The pub was drinks only but provided for a pleasant couple of hours and over on the site a handful of vans had also arrived. Unfortunately the occupier of one, who had parked unnecessarily close anyway, then allowed his dogs to run loose and piss over our bike cover. I asked him to see about washing it off which he did but they then proceeded to worry another van's dog despite the owners asking him twice to put theirs on leads - selfish and irresponsible behaviour which to be fair has been rare.

After taking on water and disposing of waste we paid up at the coffee shack outside the pub as no one had been round and then drove to Burtonport for the ferry over to Aranmore Island. It was a small car ferry reminiscent of a landing craft and similar to those used in Scotland so taking the bikes was an easy and free option giving us transport around the island's lanes, some off road tracks and then out to the lighthouse at the NW tip. Here a short path beside the lighthouse wall led to a steep set of steps that took us all the way down to sea level beneath jagged cliffs but above a heavy swell that crashed in to a large sea cave. It was a real highlight of the trip to be down there in such raw nature and I would be sorely tempted to return and stay the night on the lonely road in stormy conditions. We passed a memorial to islanders who had left many generations ago during the famine for a new life on Beaver Island in North America where to this day they retain their Celtic heritage and many traditions. We were back at the harbour in time for a late lunch at the pub sat outside in the hot sun before a calm return to Burtonport. We decided to overnight in Dungloe main car park having shopped and done laundry and took an evening walk round the bay, exchanging a few hello's with a group of Muslim women who replied shyly - we guessed they would be asylum seekers and again reflected on the journeys they must have made and the challenges that would lie ahead. Last year in the Balkans I had had a taste of the isolation and difficulties of a language barrier yet had the means and finance to return to normality at any time so I always very much feel for people who have been forced to seek a safer future elsewhere.

 

 

 

After a look round Dungloe on the Monday morning we drove across to the spit of land that accomodates the landing strip of Donegal airport and pulled up above Carnboy beach, part of a twisted coastline of bays, beaches, coves and headlands. A number of small caravans were dotted amongst the hilly dunes overlooking the main bay with a small pier, fishing boats moored up in the calm waters and a few hardy souls again taking a dip. The strong breeze continued but it was mild so we set off on the bikes and headed round to another long headland that until a small road bridge had been put in had been Cruit Island. The road passed right through Cruit golf course and ended at another small pier where we enjoyed lunch. On our return journey we turned inland briefly and the scenery changed almost instantly to rough moorland and peat bogs with far fewer properties. Again we had time for a couple of hours on the beach and then enjoyed an evening in the van as the sun set.

We walked round the coast and back past the 'airport' - a few local flights and some private aircraft use the facilities and a rather smart executive jet was parked up with engine covers in situ to prevent sand or nesting birds we presumed. Two swans and their cygnets bobbed on the inland lake as we returned to the van and then drove round to the large carpark at Magheraroarty pier to stay the night befor visiting Tory Island. It was a sunny day so after coffee and a cake in the surf shop cum cafe we set off on the bikes to explore the inland scenery beneath the Muckish mountains dominated by conical Errigal. We stopped at a lovely ruined farmhouse with an external stone staircase that would make for a wonderful renovation project before reaching Money Beg above Dunlewy Loch. The stone built Sacred Heart Church had an impressive circular tower and inside a marvellous vaulted wooden roof soared above us. After a steady climb north we then had a long descent back to the coast before returning to the ferry car park to watch the evening ferry unload and then walking out along the dunes of Magheraroarty spit passing a very photogenic cluster of decaying wooden fishing boats. At the far end we crossed to the sandy side looking out towards Inishbofin Island with Tory Island another few miles further out. The setting was one of the best of the trip and we were entranced as the sun set during our return walk.

 

 

The 11.00 ferry (28 euros each) left on time for the hour's crossing - it is an old boat that used to service the Arran Islands and was, a few years ago, the source of much acrimony on the island when the tender came up for renewal as many felt it was not up to the job. However whilst rather slow and basic it delivered us to the small island with a population of around 150 that has yet to see the new money and prosperity of other islands we have visited. The houses were by and large careworn and somewhat scruffy - the large number of rusting cars and vans reminiscent of the Outer Hebrides not helping the overall impression. However out on the headland above East Town we were delighted to observe several hundred puffins dotted around a sloping grassy cliff that provided their essential burrows for nesting. We had also had a beautiful view down in to a cove where a forest of seaweed was floating in the calm still waters and returned the same way for our sandwiches in a sheltered harbour. Less than 3 miles took us out to the lighthouse at the opposite end of the island which also apparently hosts a base station for the global GPS navigation system. On the far side a single Commonwealth War grave marks the spot where a 26 year old sapper from REME lies, alongside 8 drowned sailors from a 19th century shipwreck. Hoofing it back to harbour we almost missed the small gift shop and cafe which provided good hot chocolates and an ice cream for me. We assumed the young French woman running it was on a summer holiday job but she had actually met a guy whilst visiting the island on a holiday and now lives here with a family of 3 children - a far cry from her home city of Lyon. She teaches French (of course) in the school which educates children up to 18 surprisingly and also paints and writes. Having mixed up the departure times (my fault) we had half an hour to spare so walked along the shore to a simple cabin that housed another craft shop where I was tempted by a couple of T shirts with a puffin design to the delight of the owner who gave us some interesting insights in to the realities of island life. This was brought in to focus when she mentionned that the following day's ferries were cancelled due to bad weather and indeed down at the quayside there was a general buzz as additional passengers, both locals and tourists, had decided to jump island whilst they could. It was a much rougher return crossing and I noticed that the half dozen or so large racing yachts we had watched earlier had also run for cover.

A very windy night confirmed as ever that the van can be a warm and comfortable haven and we left this morning having changed a gas cylinder, filled the fresh water and dealt with the residuals. Ireland makes more than adequate provision for vanners and has a tolerance for wild camping that is being gradually eroded elsewhere. Unlike the NC500 in Scotland which is overused and abused to the chagrin of locals the WAW at 1600 miles can absorb more visitors and by and large the locals welcome the benefits to the economy - I hope this won't change too much and that will be largely dependent on courtesy and consideration being shown by visitors of all sorts. The forecast heavy rain and strong winds gave us the excuse for a more relaxed day as we followed the coast round via dramatic cliffs at Hook Head initially and then on to Dunfanaghy village with lunch in the Muck'nMuffin coffee shop and a quick look in the chapel at Ards Friary where Capuchin monks live work and pray - it was too wet to take on any of the forest walks but dried up enough for a quick look round Doe Castle right on the foreshore. We are now tucked away at the Singing Inn which allows overnighting for 15 euros and where we anticipate a good meal by the roaring fire. With just a few days before Mandy's departure on Monday the weather is set to settle down again so we will, with luck, enjoy the very north of Donegal.

 

XTRA PICS HERE 

 

 

 

Achill, Belmullet and on to Sligo

We picked up the Mayo Greenway back east towards Newport via Mulranny and then on to Westport where we had a good lunch of mussels and sea food chowder down at the quay before returning via Burrishoole Abbey with its tranquil sea shore setting. We pulled up at the excellent Hy Breasal BnB run by the friendly Marie who encourages campers to stay on her large, level gravel parking area with hook up, water and waste facilities and good recycling easily to hand. A bargain at 15 euros per night encouraged us to stay 3 nights and use it as a base to explore Achill Island so we tucked away with  three other vans on the far side.

 

Tuesday saw us ride out towards Keen Bay on a fine but blustery morning and then climb the long hill to drop rapidly in to Keem Bay a stunning spot now more famously associated with the filem the Banshee of Inisherrin but also known for a snorkelling zone and the occasional basking shark. . Coffee and a muffin prepared us for the steep climb back out of the bay after which we turned north to explore the remarkable deserted village of Slievemore with the ruins of around 100 cottages spread out over a mile or so of mountain side. Returning along the north side of the island gave us a total ride of almost 40 miles so we were glad to settle in to the van for the evening.

We picked up the Greenway having crossed the bridge back to the mainland, passed through Mulranny and turned back at the point we had reached two days previously to stop at the restored station building for a coffee break. The old brick water tower with its simple level indicator is missed by most people but worthy of closer inspection and we had found a bronze statue of a family group waving at trains as in days of old quite moving. Down at the beach the Glamping Site looked a bit sad with two forlorn bell tents and no obvious facilities after which we completed a circuit of the south side of Achill. Following a short rest at Hy Breasal we decided we had just about enough time and energy to do the final headland down to Cloghmore passing O'Malley's castle and some more location points for the Banshees film along a surprisingly wild and rugged road with far reaching views back across to Clare Island and north to Keem Bay.

 

Leaving Achill we stopped at the hardware store for 2 Campingas 907s at the exhorbitant price of 60 euros each and I noticed that Calor still do their smaller cylinders over here having withdrawn them from the UK claiming they were not cost effective - the relative geographic isolation of western Ireland rather draws the rug from under that argument and makes me wonder if both Calor and Campingaz are ripping off the camping and boating fraternity.

Anyway in the overall picture the ready availability of superb free wild camping locations often with water available offsets the gas costs and with my multi country journeys CG is the only practical option. To this end we drove out to the Belmullet Peninsular and stopped at the Black Sod lighthouse and pier where two fishermen were lifting crates of stored live lobsters from alongside the pier ready for market. Up at the northern end of Belmullet we parked up to enjoy the Erris Head Loop Walk with its views across to some islands and another of the WW2 identification signs to deter the Luftwaffe. A gravel track across peat bogs at Carrowteige led us to a remarkable place to spend the night as heavy rain hammered down. This had cleared the following morning giving us the chance to admire the dramatic coastline as we walked Benwee Head. Round at Portacloy we took lunch down to the beach looking out over a scallop shaped bay and were intrigued to find a few sections of spine, ribs and cartilage later identified as a basking shark - as these can reach 11m long we reckon it was an adult of some age that had died of natural causes. The interpretation centre for Ceide Fields was a striking but subtle pyramid shaped building on the coast and provided detailed information on the discovery of a long abandoned network of stone walls that had been put up when the first farmers arrived from western Europe and began to settle when the climate was warmer. Artefacts including a polished axe head from Italy and wheat seed originating in Iran proved that over many thousands of years these different cultures had moved in and established a new way of living. It is thought that a change to the climate slowly made them move on once more and the bog began to encroach and then swallow the evidence of ancient field systems. Suitably impressed and informed we moved on towards Ballina passing through Ballycastle where we watched a charity convoy of perhaps 100 roaring supercars with a police escort pass through, stopping briefly to throw sweets out to the watching children. I then realised we should have been looking out for an overnight in Ballycastle so we returned but decided the rear yard of the pub was not as nice as perhaps envisaged so instead drove out to Downpatrick Head for another quiet night overlooking the sea and back towards Benwee. A walk on to Downpatrick itself gave us the chance to admire the huge blowhole and sea cave that will one day collapse and isolate the headland as happened to the outcrop of Dun Briste created following a storm in the 14th century and necessitating the rescue of a family that actually lived out there. The cliffs were thronged with nesting birds seemingly oblivious to the waves crashing far below and another Eire sign (this one number 64) sat near an old look out post used by some pathetic individuals as a rubbish dump and toilet.

 

Moving on to Ballina we stopped to look round the beautiful and easily overlooked Rosserk Friary with  some fascinating points of interest. At the side of the altar the remains of two piscinas used to wash the ceremonial bowls could be seen and to one side a stone mason had carved a small replica of a stone round tower he must have spotted elsewhere. After lunch out in Ballina we took the quiet coast road and near Easky we found a good coastal park up with a few other vans staying and family groups enjoying the sun despite still cool northerly winds. We walked along the shoreline and discovered a layer of the limestone cliffs that contained hundreds of examples of fossilised corals. It was a quiet night and on Sunday morning a few hardy locals turned out for an early morning dip in the sheltered bay gaining my deep admiration.

 

Carrowmore megalithic burial ground was a remarkable collection of mounds and tombs all clustered in one area and largely surrounding one substantial stone chamber and we enjoyed wandering at will around those situated on public land. Numerous others lie in the adjacent farmland and high up on Knocknarea to the north lies a huge stone cairn thought to be associated with this location. We parked at Sligo Cathedral and walked down to Dock 84 for a very good lunch then on to the town centre itself and the impressive remains of the Abbey another state owned site with a reasonable 4 euro admission fee as we both now count as Seniors. The cloisters were, like Rosserk, my favourite feature and reminded me of the cool and peaceful central courtyards of homes in Morocco. Sligo Cathedral was also cool and peaceful and we left deciding on a whim to drive the circuit of Lough Gill, closely associated with the great Irish poet WB Yeates. On the north shore we just had time for a look round the impressive Parkes Castle right on the shoreline before checking out a P4N spot at Dromahair. This lay across the river and was accessed by a very narrow bridge that led to the sports field for the village. We decided it would do very nicely so parked up as a few friendly locals walked dogs or used the small playground. In the village we found a path across to Creevelea Friary before returning to the Stanford Village inn which had a remarkable interior full of memorabilia from all aspects of pub life. Walking back to the van we concluded that the former Abbey Hotel had been repurposed as an asylum seekers hostel as there were families of a variety of nationalities sitting in the grounds and a few venturing out in to the village. We reflected on the challenges that lay ahead for them all and the likelihood that their journeys to this quiet corner would no doubt have been long and harrowing. 

 

After a quiet night on the sports field the groundsman was happy to let us fill up the next morning and we returned to Sligo for a food shop, stopping en route to enjoy a 3 mile walk along the forested shores and being surprised that a large holiday or residential development had been allowed to intrude on the wooded hills of the far side of the lough. West of Sligo the beach at Rosses Point made for a brisk walk on a blustery day before we continued round to the quieter Raghly peninsula to the north and parked on the shore where the road ran out at Ardmeen above a rocky bay. The sun emerged so we offloaded the bikes and spent a couple of hours exploring a good network of lanes up towards Grange and the long sandy spit at Streedagh. After 20 odd miles we returned to the van and slept soundly after changing a gas cylinder over and reloading the bikes and cover. 

 

Today we enjoyed time in Donegal starting with small and rather underwhelming craft village and then in the town itself calling at the modest railway heritage centre staffed by an enthusiastic couple. The rapid expansion and subsequent contraction of Europe's largest narrow gauge rail network was well documented and there were some old carriages, a goods wagon and a locomotive. Interestingly given Ireland's lack of coal the system was an early adopter of the diesel engine and the network reached in to most parts of the nation. The water bus tour of the harbour wasn't running until Thursday so we decided on lunch in The Old Castle Hotel instead and enjoyed superb fish cakes and a wonderful seafood pie washed down with Guinness and Prosecco before crossing the street and visiting Donegal Castle which has been heavily restored to a very high standard. A huge carved fireplace dominated the grand dining room and outside lay the ruins of a manor house built in the grounds.

Our P4N app had crashed as we headed out to the important fishing port of Killybegs so we decided to stop for a look round the harbour with numerous huge trawlers moored up to give it time to recover. As this seemed to be taking a while I used the IOverlander App, last used in the Western Sahara to give us an overnight stop but as we headed west I spotted a sign down to a field behind Fintra beach reached by passing a closed restaurant and a small housing estate. Bizarrely the large flat field seemed to offer free camping, although with no facilities, and only one other van in situ. We checked with them and were told it was fine to stay so took a place behind the dunes and walked out to the huge beach revealed by the low tide. A few other vans were in the beach car park proper including a couple with roof tents but we preferred our quiet set up tucked away for the evening.

So the further delights of Donegal await us over the next fortnight and will be covered in due course, meanwhile the extra pics sit HERE

ISLAND LIFE

After my brief snorkelling session we had a peaceful night and walked down to the Connemara Smoke House on a bright and blustery morning for an enthusiastic and informative explanation of the various processes involved in producing hot and cold smoked salmon and mackerel. After purchasing selections of both we supported the other side of this family business by visiting the cafe next door. They all work hard but make a good living and benefit from the large number of affluent second home owners who have redeveloped many of the local houses and cottages. We filled up with water again at the hydrant near Keogh's before taking the Clifden road. 

 

 We stopped at the Marconi information centre and spent three fascinating and informative hours following the trail out to the site of the transmission station which had relied on a huge condenser hall to produce the enormous electrical charge required to transmit a message to America. This in turned was powered by four turbines in a turf fired power station consuming 6,000 tons per annum. Over 100 workers also lived on and around the site and unusually for the time in this area enjoyed domestic electricity to their homes. A small railway ran over the bog to deliver supplies and whilst little of anything remains on the ground some clever videoscopes allowed you to superimpose historic archive photographs on to the existing landscape. There was also reference to the record breaking flight of Alcock and Brown and we enjoyed discovering the modern peat farming methods involving bucket excavators and a tractor hauled multi port extruder. 

 

We stopped only briefly in Clifden to fill the fridge and cupboards and source a threaded bar and some nuts and washers to repair the tank fittings before taking the Sky Road and parking out at the beautiful Kingstown beach. Here I used the picnic bench fittings to fashion a hook bolt and re-secure the tank, easily done from a welcome clean concrete floor before we took a walk round the headland and later had a good chat with Michael from Dublin who was in another T4.

 

Back in Clifden I grabbed a much needed haircut after we had walked down to the harbour and spotted that the chef at a 4* restaurant was living in his somewhat run down camper parked down the road - a sign of the accommodation issues facing local workers. We then drove round to Claddaghduff and parked at the start of the tidal causeway to Omey Island which I had last visited in foul conditions in 2012. Today was very different as we unloaded the bikes, set off across the wide golden sands in warm sunshine and enjoyed the few miles of road and track followed by a final beach ride that enabled us to soak up the unique atmosphere of this remarkable place.

 

On our return we rode round to Cleggan to check out the arrangements for visiting Innishbofin and after a pint in the pub we returned to the van over some memorable miles. These carried on for Mandy as she rode after me as I took the van round to the Clifden Eco Beach campsite  (37 euros) which provided a night on hook up, the opportunity to empty tanks and refill with water but decline the dubious pleasures of a wood fired sauna that occupied a grand vantage point over the bay as the weather closed in. Before it got too wet we took a walk around the site to nose at other set ups and were amused by a German guy in a Volvo estate car camping out of a trailer made from the rear two thirds of an identical vehicle. With the bikes protected under the sturdy and well bungeed down cover and the heater on we enjoyed a very cosy night as the wind howled and the rain fell. Kris runs a tight ship which inevitably occasionally offends people but we appreciated the recycling policies, check in procedures and check out deadline of 11am which suited our need to be back at Cleggan for the 11am ferry. 

 

We were able to park for the day and stay the night for 4 euros which seemed reasonable and enjoyed watching the small freight vessel loading everything from barrels to bananas that would be supplying the island. Passengers travelled on a different vessel that left on time and after a half hour or so was slowly pulling up alongside the quay at Inishbofin. An old Airsteam caravan provided a trendy coffee stop and it was hard to ease ourselves out of the comfy sofas in a sunny spot for a walk round the island. We headed north initially on the West Quarter Loop enjoying the wide range of wild flowers, peaty hills and then descending to the coast to walk along a pebble bank,  eventually stopping by a sea cave for lunch. Blue skies and warm sunshine saw us follow the coast passing offshore rocks and islands, pausing at a memorial to two lads who perished whilst seal watching many years ago and then climbing up to a high point with views back across to the Arran Islands to the south, Clare Island to the north and Croagh Patrick's conical summit to the east. The Doonmore Hotel was nearly our undoing as we enjoyed a couple of pints of cider and underestimated the walk time back for the 5 o'clock ferry. With a few short jogs we were just in time and were back over to Cleggan for a quiet night in the car park after a thoroughly enjoyable day.

 

Kylemore Abbey was well worth a visit and seemed happy to admit us both as seniors so we walked up to the gothic church built by Mitchel Henry to honour the memory of his wife who passed away whilst visiting Egypt in the mid 19th century - that would have been some journey in those days.  His wealth and influence gradually declined and after establishing the large castle, a successful working estate and enormous walled vegetagble garden with numerous glasshouses he sold up to the family that eventually moved on leaving a community of Benedictine Nuns to run the enterprise as a place of worship and sanctuary. A new convent is under construction but sadly we thought the modern styling and extensive use of a particularly bland and almost industrial brick was unlikely to produce anything of significant beauty or merit. We followed the many American and other foreign visitors through the ground floor rooms of the castle surprised at how close you were allowed to the various displays of clothing, artefacts and furnishings. The fully laid out dining room was remarkable and all rooms had views out over the still waters of the lake. A short walk to the gardens saw us in the tea room there for soup and seafood sandwiches which were very well presented before we entered the gardens to gaze out over 12 acres of well tended lawns, borders, vegtables, soft fruits and tree fruits trained against the warm south facing walls all made from brick imported from Glasgow. A couple of the many glasshouses have been restored and the head gardener's smart cottage looked out over the whole plot. A woodland and river walk returned us to the main Abbey - unfortunately the path up the mountain to a small shrine is closed at the moment so we left after several absorbing hours to drive along the impressive Killarey fiord, stopping in the village for water and then following smaller and smaller lanes out to a superb park up on a pebbly strand looking across to both Innishbofin and Clare Island at Fahy. I booked our tickets over to Clare Island online for a 10 percent discount and after a very quiet night we turned up at Roonah Quay for the first sailing of the day.

It was a quick crossing, enlivened by three cyclists in good humour, to the small harbour and we were soon off on a 9 mile circuit of the island which was unexpectedly by far the most peaceful of the four we have visited. The road out to the lighthouse was marked private so we added on a different loop returning eventually to the new and old churches that sat on the south shore. The former had hosted a wedding earlier - we had seen the wedding party at the harbour, whilst the latter contained some lovely ceiling frescoes that had been slowly disappearing in the ever moist conditions. Back at the harbour we had time for one last drink at the community centre before returning to Roonah and then driving round to the windswept surfing beach of Carrownisky where a few brave souls were battling the incoming waves. We walked along the beach as heavy clouds created striking lighting conditions both out to sea and across to Clare before settling in to enjoy some of the smoked mackerel and spend a night sleeping to the constant roar of the surf.

 

 

As forecast today has been wet at times so we shopped in Westport, had a quick walk round and are now on a quiet pier heading towards Achill Island where we hope to ride the Mayo Greenway and add on loops around more of the headlands before heading north again for our final few weeks.

Additional pics at this link.

THE WILD ATLANTIC WAY.......

Mandy's flight arrived on time at Shannon Airport as the sun set and we were soon tucked away at Bunratty again for the night celebrating her safe arrival with a pint at Durty Nellies adjacent to the castle which was illuminated in green by night. A duo of musicians entertained us before we retired for the night. Revisiting Bunratty  (for me) was a chance to see the excellent buildings and displays again, chat to some of the staff  and explore the castle once more before we headed over to Doolin for a night behind Mc Dermotts pub where we met Pete and Nina who had made an unexpected visit to Ireland for a family funeral. It was a great opportunity to catch up as we last saw them in October and the excellent food and drinks combined for a memorable evening. We went our separate ways on Sunday morning and walked down to Doolin village before moving on to the small harbour for our boat trip to view the spectacular Cliffs Of Moher although due to a choppy sea I almost viewed my breakfast. The Cliffs were a spectacular sight despite the seas and after a safe return we moved on to a perfect wild spot high on the Burren looking down over the small village of Fanore. Crossing over the mountains we dropped down to Kinvarra and stopped briefly to look at Dunguaire Castle where thoughtless tourists thought nothing of stopping on a blind corner for that all important photo from the car.

 

Moving on to Galway we bought a replacement fuel can at Halfords before parking in the centre adjacent to the remarkable stone cathedral first dedicated in 1965 with a stunning interior combining ancient traditions with modern interpretations and superb stonework. We walked down the short and fast flowing Corrib river that drains Loch Corrib passing the old salmon catching infrastructure and weirs before watching two cranes carefully offloading huge turbine blades on to bespoke lorries with an adjustable chassis and rear wheel steering. 

 

 

 

 We passed through the maze of streets around the compact centre and on a whim stopped at a pizza parlour that was open for its first trial day. Both pizzas were excellent but we saved some for later and then followed the old canal back to the van and then drove to park out at Salthills and walk the long promenade in strong sunshine and a fresh breeze. The iconic diving platform at the west end was also a place for a few hardy souls intent on swimming but few stayed in for long. After an ice cream on the way back we moved on a few miles to park at the small harbour just west of Spiddeal on a beautiful bay with a couple of other vans. We walked round the coast in to Spiddeal itself and then returned for a very quiet night.

A water tap on the pier enabled us to fill up - good old Park4Night being a godsend to find these services and resting places - before deciding to sit out two days of unsettled weather slightly inland before a trip to Innishmore, the largest of the three Arrran Islands. Thus we turned north and stopped at a camper service point at Gortmore where we dealt with the loo and planned to return in a couple of days for a spell of EHU and a water top up. Then heading east we arrived at the small Derroura mountain bike trailhead. We both enjoyed the blue run including some sections of boardwalk before I tackled the longer red run whilst Mandy had a relax in the van and made lunch. The red route climbed high up for excellent views of Loch Corrib before descending via some swooping trails back to the car park where as always I appreciated the opportunity for a hot shower before eating. We moved on to Oughterard but decided against staying behind the cafe and spent a couple of hours cycling along the Glann road which eventually petered out at a couple of farms but continued as a footpath through to An Mam. We decided to return to the large quiet carpark at Derroura and were joined by two other vans who predictably and unnecessarily parked right alongside.

 Anyway it was a quiet night for all with some rain but things dried up the following day as we took another mountain road through the Galway Wind Farm whose owners have created a number of walking trails that passed right by some of the turbines. Information boards provided some remarkable statistics including the fact that over an average year a turbine tip will travel the equivalent of 46 times round the world! Lunch on a track leading to several large areas of peat cutting was followed by a descent to the coast where we took minor roads to explore the three islands linked by causeways of Lettermore, Gorumna and Lettermullan where a small pier on the latter provided a superb place for a quiet night as the tide edged in. We called at the spectacular coral beach of Doilin Bay where instead of sand tiny coral fragments were piled up and also included a remarkable number and variety of coloured shells. Round at Rossaveel we parked on the quayside for 7 euro a night and bought our tickets. We walked up to the embarkation point and round to the working port as two helicopters came in from the islands to offload what looked like filming equipment. A short walk the other way brought us to a pub for a pint of Guinness before a peaceful night on the waterfront.

 

 

As hoped Friday dawned warm, sunny and calm so we unloaded the bikes, packed sandwiches and joined the line for the 10.30 crossing to Kilronan about 40 minutes away. Return adult fares were 30 euros and 15 for the bikes but having our own meant we were soon away ahead of those intent on hiring and headed west on the north coast road passing the odd horse drawn passenger cart. 

The SatMap enabled us to take unused green lanes down to the coast with unbelievably beautiful bays and tiny stone walled, flower filled fields and then west as far as the road end at Ballydavock before we returned inland and stopped to visit the remarkable triple walled Iron Age Hill Fort of Dun Aonghasa perched on some dramatic cliffs. I had long wondered if it had originally been a circular fort that had succumbed to erosion but apparently it was always effectively a horseshoe shape. An hour on the back road had us back in time for the 5pm ferry after a thoroughly enjoyable day and we returned to the Service Point at Gortmore with the intention of filling up and having power for a couple of hours. Unfortunately despite inserting 4 euros in total neither fresh water nor power materialised so we ended up jury rigging the wc tap to fill the van. Unfortunately as we drove away I took the corner too tightly and we heard an ominous bang followed by a grating noise. The high kerb had caught the support bar for the grey water tank and ripped it from one of its hook bolts but fortunately as we had just emptied it the other bar held the tank in place and there was no tank or bodywork damage. I removed the bar completely and then hammered it straight, did the same with the hook bolt and then managed to get everything back in place, secured by a heavy duty zip tie as it wasn't all quite fully tight. We then moved on to a quiet park up further west and used up some supplies as we'd not passed a shop, grateful that the incident would be easily fixed with 2 new hook bolts in a day or two and that there had been limited damage.

 

The park up was sublime and provided yet more photographic opportunities but we were away for breakfast down a dead end track on the finest beach yet. We found a few cans, bottles  and fast food remains so filled an old feed sack which a local guy who turned up on a quad to retrieve lost lobster pots was happy to take away for us - just like our bothy misuse back home it beggars belief that people will come to these amazing places and leave easily disposed of trash for others to deal with.

Round at Carna we parked up, unloaded the bikes and set off for a day of exploring the numerous lanes and tracks on the Ard peninsula to the west passing some superb new houses and older ones that had been transformed with modern additions and well kept gardens. We passed a few overnight options but then came across a small track down to a bay and beach where we had lunch and thought that would be the prime spot. Back at Carna we loaded up and returned to the lunch spot for a relaxing afternoon and evening with a memorable sunset.

 

At the Sunday Market in Roundstone we bought top quality fruit and veg plus local eggs and a lovely cyanographic print from various stalls before a fascinating encounter with Malachy Kearns, Ireland's premier bod-rhan maker for over 40 years. He was lovely to talk to and even offered us the opportunity to stay the night in his car park as elsewhere overnighting was prohibited. He was looking at options for the future as his marriage had ended and was even considering a van for some travel - a genuinely lovely and gentle guy. His gallery and workshop was full of all things Irish and musical with a lifetime of photos, letters of gratitude, bod-rhans in for repair, ones under construction and a small drinks and cakes counter but it had the air of an enterprise past its peak and I think we were lucky to encounter things as they are now.

Our location for the night was a pub/garage/shop/hardware store known as Keogh's that allowed overnighting in their large car park for 10 euros. We parked up and paid and then set off around the Bunowen Peninsula taking more back lanes and passing a large golf course before finishing up at the pier at Bunowen with a graceful curved bay, white beach and blue sea. The smokehouse was closed for the BH weekend  but we decided we would return and stay the following night in the van. Keoghs was very busy with families but found us a table outside and served two excellent meals washed down with Guinness for me and a white wine for the little lady.

Today we cycled round the Errislannon peninsula, setting off in a light drizzle that soon cleared. We were hugely impressed by the small church with its white pews and then climbed to the Alcock and Brown Memorial that commemorates the first successful transatlantic flight in 1919 that took just under 17 hours with a maximum speed of 115 mph.

 

Back at Keoghs we loaded the bikes and secured the cover, filled up with water from a nearby hydrant and then drove down to Bunowen Bay to park up for the night. Out on the pier we had a long chat to the local fisherman and his mate who were concerned that proposed offshore wind turbines would destroy his livelihood and confirmed our suspicions that the the new and refurbished properties we had seen over the last few days were largely second homes for affluent Dubliners with the knock on effect of housing issues for locals and workers that we have seen in the Lake District, Peak District and elsewhere. He pointed out a property that had recently sold for 2.4 million euros, no wonder one property we had seen had had a Bentley and top of the range Merc on the white gravel drive.

A few hardened locals turned up to wild swim but didn't stay in long but I felt sufficiently inspired to don my wetsuit and do a bit of snorkelling in the crystal clear waters - gloves and a hood are now on the shopping list but I really enjoyed it and reflected on the bizarre variety of life given that the last time I had worn the goggles had been on the Iron Ore train in Mauritania 5 months ago.....

Flics here.....