Finally leaving Achill but thinking that we would be back one day, we headed south, back along "The Wild Atlantic Way". This is a 1,600 mile defined route along the west coast and it is signposted everywhere. There's clearly a number of vehicles making the journey, some to the north and others towards the south. We decided to stay at Westport in order to sample a little town life. However there was a stark contrast between the manicured site in the grounds of Westport House and the isolation of our previous pitch at Achill.
Westport is a nice town around which to wander. There was a folk / bluegrass festival that weekend and various pubs were hosting musicians however somehow we managed to miss them - either too early or too late for the sessions during the day and we didn't turn out on Friday evening as it was pouring down.
The three guys who were planning to all sleep in a T5 motorhome next to us, had gone out that night and rolled-up at 3am and treated it like an extension to the pub. It was unbelievable that they could talk and laugh so loudly in the early hours amongst a group of motorhomes, tents and caravans but they did. By 3:30am I'd had enough and when there was a lull in the rain I knocked loudly on the window. "There's a fecking prick outside banging on the window", shouted the loudest. "Don't you think it's time to be quiet, it's 3:30" I shouted back. Luckily another started to apologise and they did go quiet. The next morning, in fact it was the afternoon when they got up, a guy came over to us and profoundly apologised saying that "it won't happen tonight", as the loud guy had gone elsewhere. So we had a quiet night on Saturday night!
So a bit of a wander around Westport, a Guinness in Malloy's pub and we were ready for the wild Atlantic Way and we took the road west towards a remote coastline where we had thoughts of wild camping.
Firstly we stopped at a memorial to the Famine at a very sombre casting of a plague ship. This is located under Croagh Patrick, a very popular mountain just outside Westport. Today was very definitely not a day to walk up there, as the cloud base was very low and it was lashing with rain and very, very windy. However there were clearly people intent on going up - there were mental.
This bronze casting of what are known a "Coffin ships", was unveiled in 1997, the 150th anniversary of the Irish Famine and the rigging takes the form of skeletons. To escape the famine, many Irish left for the USA and Canada but were subjected to uncontrolled conditions on the ships that carried them and for many, a fate as bad or worse than that from which they were fleeing.
We travelled further west along the southern shore of Clew Bay. This should have been an interesting road as there are alleged to be 365 islands in the bay. We couldn't see more than two or three at a time.
At coffee time we arrived at a beach where I had harboured ideas of a wild camp and a beach bonfire. It's a huge expanse of sand and usually there must be some hardy surfers as there's a lifeguard hut. For some reason, even though by now it was so windy that we daren't open the Land Rover doors, the lifeguards had fought to raise two flags. You can just see one of them in a full survival suit on the windward side of their hut. I really can't believe that it was necessary to do this as NO-ONE would have ventured into the water. It would have been insane!
By now we were beginning to realise just what an undertaking "The Wild Atlantic Way" is for all travellers but especially those who are using bicycles (or who are using a Land Rover and camping). We were also beginning to realise that the weather gods have special rules for the W.A.W. Take a look at this map of European temperatures and see if you can see just where the south of Co. Mayo and the north of Connemara are (clue look at the colours).
Westport is a nice town around which to wander. There was a folk / bluegrass festival that weekend and various pubs were hosting musicians however somehow we managed to miss them - either too early or too late for the sessions during the day and we didn't turn out on Friday evening as it was pouring down.
The three guys who were planning to all sleep in a T5 motorhome next to us, had gone out that night and rolled-up at 3am and treated it like an extension to the pub. It was unbelievable that they could talk and laugh so loudly in the early hours amongst a group of motorhomes, tents and caravans but they did. By 3:30am I'd had enough and when there was a lull in the rain I knocked loudly on the window. "There's a fecking prick outside banging on the window", shouted the loudest. "Don't you think it's time to be quiet, it's 3:30" I shouted back. Luckily another started to apologise and they did go quiet. The next morning, in fact it was the afternoon when they got up, a guy came over to us and profoundly apologised saying that "it won't happen tonight", as the loud guy had gone elsewhere. So we had a quiet night on Saturday night!
So a bit of a wander around Westport, a Guinness in Malloy's pub and we were ready for the wild Atlantic Way and we took the road west towards a remote coastline where we had thoughts of wild camping.
Firstly we stopped at a memorial to the Famine at a very sombre casting of a plague ship. This is located under Croagh Patrick, a very popular mountain just outside Westport. Today was very definitely not a day to walk up there, as the cloud base was very low and it was lashing with rain and very, very windy. However there were clearly people intent on going up - there were mental.
This bronze casting of what are known a "Coffin ships", was unveiled in 1997, the 150th anniversary of the Irish Famine and the rigging takes the form of skeletons. To escape the famine, many Irish left for the USA and Canada but were subjected to uncontrolled conditions on the ships that carried them and for many, a fate as bad or worse than that from which they were fleeing.
We travelled further west along the southern shore of Clew Bay. This should have been an interesting road as there are alleged to be 365 islands in the bay. We couldn't see more than two or three at a time.
At coffee time we arrived at a beach where I had harboured ideas of a wild camp and a beach bonfire. It's a huge expanse of sand and usually there must be some hardy surfers as there's a lifeguard hut. For some reason, even though by now it was so windy that we daren't open the Land Rover doors, the lifeguards had fought to raise two flags. You can just see one of them in a full survival suit on the windward side of their hut. I really can't believe that it was necessary to do this as NO-ONE would have ventured into the water. It would have been insane!
By now we were beginning to realise just what an undertaking "The Wild Atlantic Way" is for all travellers but especially those who are using bicycles (or who are using a Land Rover and camping). We were also beginning to realise that the weather gods have special rules for the W.A.W. Take a look at this map of European temperatures and see if you can see just where the south of Co. Mayo and the north of Connemara are (clue look at the colours).
We continued south through the mountains. It's a spectacular route and we could see the waters of Doo Lough as we drove alongside with the mist shrouded hills invisible. The road turns east and then there's the amazing inlet of Killary Harbour which thrusts inland for miles until it's finally possible to reach the other side near Leenaun.
Travelling west again we crossed back into Connemara and headed for a beach campsite near Tully. It's a steep descent from the road but the site is laid out on flat ground behind the beach. It would have been too easy to pitch the tent on a sheltered pitch with no sea view. Instead we decided to park as close to the beach as possible and to sleep in the Landy. The wind was very strong and the rain lashing in frequent squalls.
It's a beautiful place. You couldn't get better and we spent three nights here because it is so wild and rewarding. We plucked up courage to erect the tent and this gave us much more protection from the wind and rain.
The beach at high tide appears to be small but at low tide the water rolls back so far that headlands are exposed and the sand continues past them forming a huge expanse.
The best bit is that this seems to be a quiet corner and we had great times walking the sand and climbing the rocks. Looking out to sea there are small islands and viewing through the binoculars we could see sheep, a ruined church and even an old tractor.
A seal swam past along the shoreline just as I was going into the tent at about 10:30pm. It's still very light at this time as we are 53.6 North and 10.0 West and so sunset is late.
The next morning we were looking out over the bay and a pod of dolphins became visible. They were making their way across the bay but decided to have a play. They were jumping clear of the water; too far away to take pictures with an iPhone but through binocs it was a spectacle. There was a moment when we could clearly see about ten at least. This must be a Peelies record! No-one else we talked to had seen either seals or dolphins, from which I can only conclude that they are like shooting stars. If you don't look you'll hardly ever see one!
Here's what they probably looked like close-up:
We walked to the pub at Tully Cross for dinner and so the driver could have beers too. Paddy Coyne's pub has been in the same family for generations, in fact since 1811. It was Monday evening and we were lucky to get a table as it packed out very quickly.
The area has been used as set for several films and through the years stars such as Fred Astaire, Charlotte Rampling, Richard Harris have been here. Also Two Fat Ladies cooked lobster.
We opened a tab, got the Guinness ordered, made our selections only to then discover that they don't take plastic. A quick cash count showed that we had €70 "so that's enough" but by then the waiter had told us not to worry. "We're open again at 3 tomorrow so come back and pay then"! Remarkable.
We commented on how busy it was. Apparently it was a little unusual. O'Conners (?) in Galway were having an evening works do and had arrived unannounced.
So back to the tent, in daylight and it was time for another look out over the beach. Even the wind had died-down and the sea was calmer. What a "tent-view"!
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