The campsite at Doogort is now run by Lorraine and Enda and you couldn’t wish to meet a more friendly couple. I’d previously only known two Irishmen, Brother Healy, at St Ambrose College and Father Ted but now I know another! Enda is a bit of a dark horse as he said that he’s a builder. Then he elaborated and said that he “has a construction company”. Someone else told us that he’s the biggest builder on the island although his wife wasn’t impressed reminding us that it is only an island.
However he’s an educated man alright as we were only into our introductory conversation and he managed to drop in a bit about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs as we discussed the character contrasts between Dutch, English and Irish. How’s that for a holiday conversation?
With Doogort as a base, Slievemore in front of us and a nice day beckoning, we decided to climb the peak. Walking in Ireland is unlike anything we are used to. Not only are there no paths at all, no-one else seems to be doing anything very strenuous and the only way to climb a mountain (for mountain is what it certainly is) is to start clambering over heather and massive tussocks of moss with bits of grass trying to grow. The hillside was strewn with rocks and boulders and it’s still bog, only now it’s bog on a slope. It was very hard work and concentration was required to avoid dropping a boot into a hole, of which there were many, or even worse, falling into the heather covered gap formed between each big rock and the ground behind.
It was instantly rewarding as the whole bay became visible. Slowly we plodded and although the sun was shining, the wind was screaming in from the north and the mist formed on the mountain was blowing off, beginning to obscure the sun to the south of us. The result was that we needed all layers, plus hats and gloves, well before we reached the summit.
This is the view north across Blacksod Bay and the big piece of land is the southern tip of a remote mainland peninsula with a lovely string of tiny islands stringing out from it.
Looking south towards Keel and the beach with a large lake inland where kite surfing lessons are to be had.
From the top there's the best view of our campsite, about 2,200 feet below.
Going down was almost as hard as going up as it was nearly steep enough for some scrambling. There was time for some shelter spotting and of course there's only one way to sooth weary feet!
At the western tip of Achill Island is Keem beach and this is accessed along a short but exhilarating road along the cliffs that descends steeply to a car park and turning point. We scrambled up to the cliff tops which are 300m+ vertical drop to the sea.
All around are the signs of boggy ground, with cotton grass in abundance and plenty of exposed peat, even though here it's been eroded naturally (I presume).
Back at Doogort beach, Enda was beginning his plan to resurrect the hibernating campsite and he has invested in two mobile homes to add to three which he must have sited recently. As we had 24 hours stuck in the tent due to heavy rain, it's understandable that most visitors to Achill are sleeping under metal or tiled roofs. There are few campers!
However he’s an educated man alright as we were only into our introductory conversation and he managed to drop in a bit about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs as we discussed the character contrasts between Dutch, English and Irish. How’s that for a holiday conversation?
With Doogort as a base, Slievemore in front of us and a nice day beckoning, we decided to climb the peak. Walking in Ireland is unlike anything we are used to. Not only are there no paths at all, no-one else seems to be doing anything very strenuous and the only way to climb a mountain (for mountain is what it certainly is) is to start clambering over heather and massive tussocks of moss with bits of grass trying to grow. The hillside was strewn with rocks and boulders and it’s still bog, only now it’s bog on a slope. It was very hard work and concentration was required to avoid dropping a boot into a hole, of which there were many, or even worse, falling into the heather covered gap formed between each big rock and the ground behind.
It was instantly rewarding as the whole bay became visible. Slowly we plodded and although the sun was shining, the wind was screaming in from the north and the mist formed on the mountain was blowing off, beginning to obscure the sun to the south of us. The result was that we needed all layers, plus hats and gloves, well before we reached the summit.
This is the view north across Blacksod Bay and the big piece of land is the southern tip of a remote mainland peninsula with a lovely string of tiny islands stringing out from it.
Looking south towards Keel and the beach with a large lake inland where kite surfing lessons are to be had.
From the top there's the best view of our campsite, about 2,200 feet below.
Going down was almost as hard as going up as it was nearly steep enough for some scrambling. There was time for some shelter spotting and of course there's only one way to sooth weary feet!
At the western tip of Achill Island is Keem beach and this is accessed along a short but exhilarating road along the cliffs that descends steeply to a car park and turning point. We scrambled up to the cliff tops which are 300m+ vertical drop to the sea.
All around are the signs of boggy ground, with cotton grass in abundance and plenty of exposed peat, even though here it's been eroded naturally (I presume).
Back at Doogort beach, Enda was beginning his plan to resurrect the hibernating campsite and he has invested in two mobile homes to add to three which he must have sited recently. As we had 24 hours stuck in the tent due to heavy rain, it's understandable that most visitors to Achill are sleeping under metal or tiled roofs. There are few campers!
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