roadtrip

Day 19, Island Magee to Stranraer

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Our adventure around Ireland came to a close today but what a blast it has been. We left the campsite early today and said goodbye to the farmer on whose land the site rests. He was busy feeding his chickens, ducks and guinea fowl in the farmyard. A scene from a Constable.

We headed south along the A2 for the short drive into the town of Carrickfergus. Dominated by its castle on the shore it was a sleepy monday morning here. It started to rain. It did not stop. But for us it was a chance to grab a decent breakfast at Springsteens American Diner. Give them their due, they did do an amazing, if not the healthiest grant you, breakfast with non stop coffee. Debbie popped into Sainsbury’s next door whilst I took the dog for a walk around the marina. Clearly Carrickfergus was a place of some importance in days of yore. With a Scotch[sic] quarter and an Irish quarter (the other two quarters were missing?) this place has history. Alas we could not stick around to find out what it was.

Carrickfergus Castle

The road down into Belfast passes through the suburbs found in any town around the globe. We checked into Stena Line for the Cairnryan sailing. It is a route I have never been on. We were first to arrive for the 15:30 sailing. Just as we started to board it really started to pour with rain. Debbie spied the gusty wind conditions and popped a seasick tablet in her mouth just in case.

The last view of Northern Ireland. Rain!

She need not have worried. The dog stayed in the van and took up residence in Debbie’s front seat. The crossing was quick. 2 hours 25 minutes berth to berth. When we returned to the van the dog was still in Debbie’s seat curled up until we opened the van door. You would think we had been away for hours by the greeting we got.

We are now set for the night in Ryan Bay campsite just to the north of Stranraer. It is lashing down with rain. It is time to do nothing but get our books out. It is a filthy night. We arrived into Ireland in dirty weather. We left Northern Ireland in dirty weather. The beginning of the Scotland Sojourn seems likely to continue in the same vein.

The route around Ireland and Northern Ireland. In at Rosslare. Out at Belfast.

Tomorrow we have a 280 mile drive north. Why? You will have to wait until tomorrow for that.

Todays Distance: 65 miles including the ferry crossing.

Total Distance: 1698 miles.

Day 18, Golden Sands to Islandmagee, County Antrim.

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Today we continued along the Coastal tourist route following the A2 road. It is easily followed as there are signposts all the way with Causeway Coastal Route on them. Billed as one of the world great Road journeys it is worth doing.

There is a noticeable difference in the volume of traffic on the road. It was much busier. It is also a very sunny and warm weekend but I think I preferred the lanes of the West of Ireland more. There are a lot more people about too. Many of the seaside towns we passed through were very busy. Something we rarely saw on the west coast. Some were delightful such as Articlave and Coleraine. We passed the beautiful Royal Portrush golf course and it was very busy.

One event we had not planned on bumping into was the NW200 motorcycle race. Road Racing around a circuit roughly based on the towns of Portstewart, Portrush and Coleraine, the event ran from the 6th to 11th May. Today was clean up day and returning the circuit back to normal road use. It was very busy in that area, particularly with the thousands of motorcycles and fans that had gathered and were now heading home.

Our first stop of the day was the Giants Causeway. It was a must see. As a child I had a boardgame with the Giants Causeway as a stop on it. I had seen TV shows aplenty. But to stand there was amazing. Made up of around 40,000 basalt columns of mainly hexagonal profile it looks like a bees honeycomb from above.

The path is flat along the shore but behind it there is a path called the shepherds stairs consisting of 167 steps up the cliff face. We chose to do that to get a bit of air into our lungs. The views from the top are worth it as you look along the length of the bay and down onto the bus stop by the main columns. Yes there is a bus from the visitors centre down the slope to the columns and back if you need it.

It is difficult to walk away from this UNESCO World Heritage site without a sense of wonder. I have seen the same columns on the Isle of Staffa and Fingals Cave across the water in Scotland formed by the same volcanic events that formed the Giants Causeway. You simply cannot pass by without going to see it.

We moved along. This whole coast is full of dramatic cliffs and Vistas. Epitomised by the ruins of Dunluce Castle, the views are staggering and vestigial. Time has eroded these cliffs.

The ruins of Dunluce Castle. Not for the Lord with Vertigo!

The road continues around the NE corner of the Island at Ballycastle (which features in my own genealogy) before dropping to the coast at Cushendall. This is a lovely little town complete with Sunday market, people eating ice creams and lots of motorcyclists stopping for a coffee.

The road then snakes its way hugging the waters edge, literally at times to pass through the large and rather dull looking town of Larne before we arrived at our campsite for the night in Islandmagee.

We are only 40 minutes away from the ferry terminal in Belfast where we will cross over to Scotland tomorrow completing the Irish sector of our adventure. We have unfinished business in Scotland to attend to which will then see us heading south for home. More to come before then though.

Todays distance: 89 miles

Total distance: 1633 miles.

Day 17, Culdaff Beach to Golden Sands holiday park.

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Today dawned bright, calm and warm. It had all the makings of a really lovely day for our last on the Wild Atlantic Way. It would be only 70 miles from start of day to the rest place for the evening. I wanted to be on the County Antrim coast to set us up to visit the Giants Causeway the following day. Under a bright blue sky we set off.

As I was to turn right out of the beach carpark I spied this right opposite and thought it was another gem of a find and simply had to be researched for more information. Alas I could find nothing so if there are any sleuths out there I would be interested to know. Not least why an RAF pilot is flying a Royal Navy aircraft.

On we went following green and pleasant lanes to the west coast of Lough Foyle. I wanted to see the lighthouse at Inishowen head. It flashes Fl(2) WRG 10s. This means that it is a sectored light having a white sector, a green sector and a red sector and flashes twice in 10 seconds. The fact it is sectored means that is covering a danger. To be safe and clear of the danger you must stay in the white sector as you approach the Lough. If you see a green light you are too far to starboard and need to come to port to enter the white sector. If you see red you are too far to port and need to alter your course to starboard to enter the white sector. It is likely guiding ships into Lough Foyle passed some outlying rocks or sandbanks. Here is the mariners chart showing the light house circled and the three coloured sectors. The red is indeed covering outlying sandbanks whilst the green helps clear the headland. By keeping the light dead ahead and white ships can safely enter the Lough.

But as I have mentioned previously it is what you find that you did not know about that brings these places to life.Next to the lighthouse there was this information board.

The board talks of Colmcille. You may know him better as Columba. For it was from here that Columba sailed to Scotland and the Island of Iona to take Christianity to the Picts. I have been to his monastery on Iona but I always thought he left Ireland from closer to Rathlin island further east along the coast. If interested you can read more here.

We then took the road south along the Lough to the delightful little town on the waters edge of Greencastle to take on supplies before continuing south to the larger town of Moville. Still modest in size, Moville is a quintessential seaside town. It was a very pleasant little place. A notice board in the town states “Moville was a point of embarkation for travellers, especially emigrants, to Canada and the United States of America. In the late 19th century, steamships of the Glasgow-based Anchor Line and Allan Line made port at Moville while en route to and from New York, while just after the turn of the 20th century, the Canadian Pacific Line also established a terminal at the port as part of their service connecting Liverpool and Montreal for Canadian-bound Irish immigrants.”

Another feature on interest was an arrow carved in a stone in a layby that we stopped briefly in, in yet another blink and you miss it item of interest. I can imagine that the sealed road was a cart track when the surveyors stone was inlaid into the wall.

We continued on to the border with Northern Ireland and the end of the Wild Atlantic Way. The way ends right on the border in the rather nondescript town of Muff.

In the blink of an eye the road signs are in miles per hour instead of Kilometres and the phone numbers on businesses are now familiar UK format. There is no formal border crossing, no duty free, nothing. The road changes from the R238 on the Irish side to the A2 on the Northern Irish side. It is the same road. All the formalities we went through in Rosslare with the dog and the expense and the visit to Irish customs simply don’t exist here. We could simply have crossed the border and back with zero checks at all. Weird!

We passed through the large town of Derry/Londonderry. The name depends on who you talk to. The first road sign for Londonderry had the London spray painted over.

The adventure is not over yet. We will now pass along the Antrim Coast tourist route to get to our ferry in Belfast. We still have another 11 days with the van so we will cross to Scotland as there is still unfinished business there to attend to.

Our campsite tonight is the Golden Sands campsite in Benone. It is huge and busy and full of families enjoying the weather parked on top of each other. It is not our cup of tea at all but it was all I could find that had space available on a Saturday night. The glorious weather has brought everybody out for the weekend. Give me Sleepy Hollows campsite with its 10 pitches over this any day. There must be close to 300 caravans, motorhomes and large caravan homes here. But it will do for a night.

Todays distance: 70 miles.

Total distance: 1544 miles.

Day 16, Mulroy Drive to Culdaff beach.

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What a day! Perfect touring weather. Perfect places to visit and perfect interaction with the locals. Just perfect.

The morning dawned bright and clear with a forecast that looked really good for the day. We set off for Ramelton in Donegal. It is a very pretty town straddling the River Leannan. But it is famous for one of its sons. One David Gallaher. Who he you may ask?

David Gallaher was born in Ramelton in October of 1873. He emigrated with his family when he was only 5 years old to New Zealand. He grew up to Captain the Old Originals, the Original All Blacks Rugby team. There was no way we were not going to pay the place a visit. In a small garden there is a fitting memorial to him. You can read more of his story here.

There were even ferns planted under the sculpture. I had my All Blacks shirt on. One of the locals that I talked to remembers the great Jonah Lomu coming to visit the place. Another said that one day he saw “giants” in the garden when a number of the more recent All Blacks came to visit. They are big men.

We walked up the street from the garden to where the great man was born. Like all these places, it is just a house now. But still worth a look.

We had parked opposite a chemists and as we passed to return to the van, the pharmacist was outside being filmed by one of his staff doing a reminder to use sunscreen. He was making a right mess. I said that in New Zealand we say slip slop slap. Slip on a vest, slop on the sunscreen and slap on a hat. He loved it and asked if I would assist him. I ended up filming the advert with him. He said I was going to be famous in Donegal as the advert was going to be screened in all the pharmacy shops. I am famous again!

How could we beat that for a start to the day.

We headed for Malin Head. The most northern part of Ireland and the most northern part of the Wild Atlantic Way. We had to go as we had visited Kinsale lighthouse at the most southern part. To get there we climbed up and passed through the Gap of Mamore. Single track again and nobody stops to let a camper van pass. I had to pull over every time. But oh the view from the top of the pass was amazing.

So good that even the dog had to take time out to sit and admire the view.

I was intrigued to see a shrine and Holy well at the top.

We continued on to Malin Head. The good weather had brought everybody out including a large entourage of motorcyclists. I had sailed around Malin Head many times. I had heard the words Rockall Hebrides Malin many times on the shipping forecast and even picked up messages from Malin Head Radio as we headed out usually from Liverpool into the North Atlantic bound for the United States on cargo ships. We passed Malin Coastguard radio station with its aerial array and it brought back many great memories. Did you know that the Titanic tested its radio systems with Malin Head radio when it was out on sea trials from Harland and Wolf in Belfast?

There was no way we could do anymore this day without spoiling what we had already done. So we headed for days end at Culdaff Beach carpark where we will spend the night. It is a fantastic spot and I am sure we will be joined by other vans being a Friday night as well. Blue skies, picture perfect beach, rather coolish water temperature and an evening stroll. Perfect!

Todays distance: 99 miles

Total distance: 1474 miles

Day 15, Meenalecky to Mulroy Drive.

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After a brief shower of rain yesterday evening we woke to a bright and dare I say it warmish day. 16C when we set off. Today we were just going to follow the Wild Atlantic Way and see what it presented us with. We are crossing the north west and top end of Donegal. It is windswept and spartan. Yet dotted about are collections of houses. Some new and on the large side. Are they holiday homes?

The road snaked its way along the hillsides into the small town of Dunfanaghy before climbing steadily away from the main road on a single track to Horn Head. Another amazing panorama spread out before us. It is all on private land now so access is limited but the view from the top where a WW2 lookout tower remains is staggering. The remains of a Napoleonic era lookout from 1805 still remain. I have sailed along this coast a few times and always viewed it from seaward. It is rather lovely to see it from the other perspective now.

Returning down the track we turn east towards Fanad Head. I had heard of this place. Firstly because a lovely lighthouse beloved of many a mariner adorns the headland but also that a 6000 burial tomb lies close by here. Rather puts things into perspective when you here the age of that don’t you think. This is hard country to farm. Walls of stone delineate fields strewn with boulders. What existence could have been eked from this landscape? We heard that peat cutting and seaweed burning for iodine were main professions.

Looking out over the present vista it is hard to imagine how tough life was.

The road now descended from its lofty perches past the most gorgeous beach at Ballymastocker strand and followed the line of the many sea inlets. Fish farming is big here.

We are now set for the night at the Mulroy drive campsite. This is a new site opened last year by a father and son who have visions to transform it into a must come place. It is a calm evening. Other than 3 motorcyclists we are alone. The midges are out so we are staying in to deprive them of an evening feast.

The son gave me a map listing many activities in the area. Whilst we have only a day this place could well be a hub for a few days at least.

Tomorrow is going to be a big day. Two things we must see. But more on that tomorrow.

Todays distance: 94 miles

Total distance: 1375 miles.

Day 14, Killybegs to Meenalecky.

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The day opened to a view across from whence we had come to County Sligo. It was bright with a light breeze coming off the sea from the south west. High cirrus clouds obscure the full sun. The van thermometer reads 14C. We both had a good sleep. The fresh air is so thick and clean.

The road leaves Killybegs heading west and slowly climbs whilst twisting and turning. The trees all disappear. Moorland and the tufts of scrubby grass dominate. The landscape turned harsh. The single track road is rough in places and total concentration is needed for it climbs and dips and turns into blind corners. There are sheer drops with no protection should you stray. Slowly does it.

Our first stop of the day is to Slieve League. The magnificent cliffs are a highlight of the Donegal coastline. We have to leave the van in a car park around a mile and a half from the viewing platform. The road from there to the platform climbs sharply to begin with to get the heart and legs pumping then climbs less sharply for the rest of the way. The reward is this……..

The breeze coming off the sea is forced up. It cools your face and continues up to produce orographic cloud on the peaks. All you can do is stare, watch the wheeling seabirds, smell the salt on the breeze and take it all in. We retrace our steps.

The Wild Atlantic Way hugs the rugged coastline. The day brightens and we catch glimpses of white sand beaches with blue seas. They would happily be at home in the Seychelles.

The road stays high above sea level. Tiny little ports appear and I have no idea why they should be there. I can only think they are for fishing boats to land their catch but really I have no clue. But somebody went to some expense to build it.

It is tough going on this road. It is bumpy and very narrow. The only saving grace is that traffic is few and far between. But the concentration takes it out of you. The crockery rattles and shakes in the cupboards. The dog just lies on her coach and seems to ignore it all. The road bursts into civilisation at the small town of Ardara. With its little supermarket and shops it is a magnet for the local communities. No sooner do you enter it when you leave again back onto serpentine roads.

We stop in a layby to take a shot of this view. I spy a French passport dropped on the road. I retrieved it. What to do next? I opened it and using the name and photo I tried facebook and instagram to try and find the owner with no luck. I find the address on google maps but it does not help. I found a room key for a Brittany ferry crossing from Roscoff to Cork tucked in among the pages so I called Brittany Ferries in Cork and explained the issue. I said to the lady to look on the manifest for that sailing and she should have this persons contact details. I left her my phone number to pass on should the person call in a panic. She said she could not help me and I should hand it in to the Garda (Irish Police). No chance of that as we are remote for a few days so I kept the passport safe. We continued on.

We arrived at our campsite for the night. The delightful Sleepy Hollow campsite in the village of Meenalacky whose claim to fame is that the pub, Leos Tavern, is the home of Enya and Clannad the Irish band. This is our best campsite so far. Small, intimate, spotlessly clean and Ian and Nic who own the place are just a delight.

As we were setting up our pitch for the night. I had a missed call on my mobile. A French number. I called it back. “Brittany Ferries tells me you have my passport” says the man on the phone. I tell him I do but can he confirm his date of birth in the passport which he does. He is just over an hour away. He arrives and thanks me. He did not even know he had lost it until Brittany Ferries called him.

To celebrate we go to the pub with the dog.

We are greeted by the locals as if we were long lost friends. The pub fills up. They all love the dog.

After a Guinness or two we walked back to the campsite. I am knackered. The driving today had been tough even if it was not a lot of miles. These Donegal roads take time to navigate.

Todays distance: 79 miles

Total distance: 1281 miles

Day 12 rest day, Day 13 Ballina to Killybegs.

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The rest day in Ballina achieved what it was meant to. We caught up on all the chores that we had fallen behind with. Cleaning the van, getting the laundry done and just catching up with the usual tasks of life that still need attending to even when on the road.

Despite the sky looking a little unpleasant it was warmer than of late when we set off for the run to Killybegs. The road from Ballina strikes north up the east side of the River Moy estuary. The landscape is estuarial and flat. But this immediately caught my eye.

With no identifying marks I took a photo to see if I could identify it later. Well what a find she was. Her name is Creteboom. Creteboom is one of only three ‘Crete Tugs’ that survive today, making her an incredibly rare and hugely important example of industrial and maritime archaeology. She is a monument to World War I invention and ingenuity and already attracts a lot of interest and is a popular tourist attraction for boat trips. You can read her very interesting story here. Another one of those amazing finds just off the road that well trod.

As we continued east towards the town of Sligo the imposing face of Ben Bulben fills the horizon. It is hard to miss. Part of the Darty mountains it dominates the landscape. The road passes along the western slope. It seems there are numerous walking trails signposted to it from the road.

We dropped into Sligo town. One of our gas bottles had run out and we have had a devil of a job getting a replacement. You would think it would be easy. But oh no. I phoned around a few suppliers to find a 6kg propane gas bottle. Nope. Seems it is too small for most applications. Until I called Sligo fuels and spoke to Ceara. What a complete and utter darling she turned out to be. Her first questions was “is it a south or north fitting?” Who knew there was a difference. I didn’t. I told her I had no clue. “We have 6kg bottles with both fittings so just bring it in.” I did. South or North refers to the Irelands. The North and also the UK valve fitting is female. The South Ireland and Europe is male. We had the north fitting and we were duly supplied a correct replacement gas bottle. Result! We filled up the van with fuel there as well. It was the least I could do to repay her kindness.

Just to the north of Sligo we stopped at St Columbas Church of Ireland in Drumcliffe. For here lies one of Irelands most famous sons. The poet WB Yeats and his wife Georgie. There was no way we were passing by without paying our respects.

His Great Grandfather John was the Rector at this church. The nearby cafe was relieved of a decent cup of coffee, a slice of raspberry and coconut cake and a book of poetry. We reflected and passed time in the church and moved on.

The road winds its way passed Classiebawn Castle on Mullaghmore head. We reach the seaside town of Bundoran. Most of the shops have their shutters down. It looks like one of the old English seaside towns. A shadow of its former self.

We pass through the bustling town of Donegal before making journeys end at Killybegs.

I took Debbie around the port road where I had docked my ship two years ago. We are camped for the night in the Killybegs holiday park overlooking the harbour entrance.

Here is the pilot Patsy Kelly and I just after we had docked.

I will leave you with a few shots from our motorhome. It has been another interesting day. Whilst we dont stop and take hundreds of photos, the changing scenery, the little towns and villages and the people we meet all paint their own pictures. Donegal is often called the forgotten county. I can understand that sentiment.

Todays jouney has taken us fro County Mayo to County Sligo to County Leitrim and finally into County Donegal. I had never heard of County Leitrim until today. Thats the beauty of travel. learning never stops.

Todays distance: 116 miles

Total Distance: 1202 miles.

Day 11, Lough Doo to Ballina.

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Hang on a minute? What brightness is that peeping under the blackout curtains? Could it be? It is! Sunshine.

This was the view of the Lough from our vans windows. It was still a little cool but the day had dawned bright and calm. A boon to a damp traveller. We set off deeper into County Mayo.

I had heard of a small town called Newport in County Mayo. I knew it had a small jetty that used to serve a burgeoning linen industry run by the Quakers. Being a sucker for anything faintly maritime we went in search of it. The route started climbing through the Doolough valley. The clouds closed in but still it was calm.

So reminiscent of Scotland and the Lake District of England. Passing Tawnymackan Bog ( wonderful name don’t you think) before dropping into the town of Louisburgh. What you notice is the number of beautiful sandy beaches hereabouts like Carrowmore and Old Head beaches. Stunning.

The road snakes passed Croagh Patrick. Irelands Holy mountain. The car park at the bottom is packed with long weekend holiday traffic. According to legend, Saint Patrick spent 40 days and nights on the mountain, fasting and praying and also to have banished snakes from the island forever.
The memory of St. Patrick is celebrated here once a year, on Reek Sunday – the last Sunday of July – during which thousands of pilgrims climb the mountain, some of them barefoot or on all fours.

We pass the National Famine memorial in Murrisk Demesne before dropping down into the lovely town of Westport where we refuelled. Then on to Newport. Dominated by an old railway viaduct this is a small but impressive little town. As you arrive you are greeted by this interesting little piece of art.

We parked up in a layby for a cup of tea and to wander around the place. It is worth a stop if ever you come this way. The old jetty still exists and the mill has been renovated and converted to apartments. I do love the fact that these old building and industrial architecture are repurposed instead of being demolished. It maintains the character of the place. You can read more about the place here.

Leaving Newport we pass the ruins of Burrishoole Abbey. A quick snap of it as we slow down to pass by out the car window.

We turn west onto the Corraun peninsular to see something I really did not want to miss. The Spanish Armada viewpoint.

In this very bay a number of the ships fleeing defeat sought shelter only to be shipwrecked when a storm blew through and drove them ashore onto the rocks. My knowledge of the defeated fleet was poor and I had no idea how many of the Spanish ships ended up being wrecked here. I assumed the fleet turned around and headed back to Spain. How wrong was I! You can learn more here. We then turned north through the Wild Nephin national park passing through Killala with its weird round tower. Almost a folly.

It is in fact the last remaining medieval structure of a monastic establishment, thought to have been built in the 12th century. Our final call of the day was to Downpatrick Head. What a place. Windswept, dramatic and one of those landscapes that make you feel small.

The gigantic seastack Dún Briste is one of the highlights of the rugged Atlantic coast in northern Mayo. Reaching a height of nearly 50 meters, the rock is visible from afar and is one of the striking  landmarks of the Wild Atlantic Way.

Downpatrick Head was named after Irelands patron saint St. Patrick, who founded a church on the narrow land tongue. The foundations can still be clearly seen in the grass.

Another day comes to a close. We are parked up for the next two nights in the Belleek Park camping ground just to the north of the town of Ballina. We will spend tomorrow here as well to take a break from the driving, get some laundry done and clean out the van. Just now and then it is good to take a break.

Todays distance: 149 miles.

Total distance: 1086 miles.

Day 10 Clifden to Lough Doo.

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Today has been a good day. Why? Hang on and I will tell you.

Todays itinerary was suggested by a work colleague of mine. As mentioned yesterday Brian is the HR Director onboard ship and he is from round these parts. But before we got to his neck of the woods there was some sightseeing to do.

We left Clifden campsite and dropped down into the town and lo and behold what did we see. Two things of interest. One was a statue of two famous aviators, Alcock and Brown and the other was a collection of vintage and veteran motorcycles with riders wearing numbered tabards.

The first transatlantic flight landed just south of Clifden. You can read more here. This was rather poignant as we has also visited the landing site of the first Trans Tasman flight made by Guy Menzies when doing our South Island motorhome trip a few years ago.

We set of to run around the circuitous route to the west of Clifden known as the Sky Road. You quickly appreciate how it got its name as the road climbs steadily out of Clifden. It is narrow in a car never mind a motorhome. At times it is precipitous but once at the top….oh my!

Whilst snapping away at the views and trying to talk to the horse who it turns out has zero conversation, these guys turned up.

These chaps were doing the annual Galway Rally. This is its 44th year. I got talking to them. Of course I did. The chap wearing vest 71 is from Fox glacier in New Zealand. You could not make this stuff up. He comes over every year to ride with his friend, sat on the bike wearing 76. His friend owns both bikes but lends one out so they can ride together. The chap from new Zealand met his friend some 20 years ago whilst on holiday. He comes over from New Zealand every year since to take part in the rally.

Our dog Leia was interested too and wowed a few onlookers with her good looks

From there we set off for my colleagues home village where the family used to own the local hotel. We thought we would go a take a few photos for him. Little did we know his brother still lived in the village. The roads got really narrow at times. Thank goodness there is little traffic.

The road from Mam Cross across the moors and along the Lough to the village of Clonbur could easily have been lifted out of New Zealand. The hills, the moors and even the plants and trees all looked the same. There is me trying to look suave in my driving gear.

Brians brother Eddie came over to greet us whilst we were having some lunch on the old family hotel. . My goodness he is a clone! We had a great chat.

We continued onto Cong just over the border in County Mayo. Its claim to fame was that The Quiet Man with John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara was filmed there. It is a stunning little place. A short walk away is Ashford Castle which is now an exclusive Hotel resort and Spa and featured in the film.

A statue of the two leading actors immortalises the films poster.

We back tracked to Conbur and saw this little surprise.

Another little surprise find, missed if you don’t deviate off the normal tourist route.

We took Eddies recommendation of the back road through the hamlet of Finney before arriving at our spot for the night. A parking bay alongside Lough Doo. We are alone. It is perfect. Except for the biting sand flies that have rather taken a fancy to us.

The view from the van.

Only one thing left to do.

A wee glass of Jamiesons to watch the sun go down with. Night night.

Todays distance: 90 miles

Total distance: 937 miles.

Day 9. Doolin to Clifden.

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Today we crossed from County Clare into County Galway. The morning dawned overcast and dull but dry. It was 9C. A bit chilly. After a hot shower it was time to pack up the van for the day ahead.

As soon as you leave Doolin you enter a part of Ireland called The Burren. The word “Burren” comes from an Irish word “Boíreann” meaning a rocky place. It is an apt description. Described as a Karst/glaciokarst landscape you are probably no wiser than I was having read about it. So, if you are interested you can read more about it here. It is a most surreal looking place.

What is clear even to the untrained eye is that the numerous quite distinct layers indicate that it is a sedimentary rock. Glacial erosion has smoothed off the exposed top. I cant think of anywhere that I have been thats quite like it.

The road continues around Black Head where a short and stubby lighthouse stands. Last year I brought my ship into Galway Bay and had to seek shelter for a day under this very lighthouse to let a nasty little depression blow through before anchoring off Galway City the following day. It was nice to see it from the land side this time.

Continuing on we stopped in the small village of Ballyvaughan. It was deathly quiet. Really quiet. Looking out across the bay back the way we had just come all you could hear was the wind in the treesand the smell of the sea weed. The silence was punctuated by a few sandpipers calling to each other as they rummaged among the sea weed.

The beauty of the motorhome is the ability to stop, put the kettle on and take a break with a mug of tea and just stare at your surroundings. The bliss was short lived.

We headed into Galway city. Now I know why we have not seen much traffic of late. It was all in Galway. The place was grid locked. We had to find a supermarket to replenish our supplies but it cost us two hours. 30 minutes of shopping and 1 ½ hours battling traffic to get in and out.

The HR Director on the ship I work on came from this part of the world. He gave me some tips and leaving Galway for Connemara we followed the road he suggested. It was amazing. The road is mainly on the flat but twists and turns continuously. Progress is slow. We headed for Spiddal on the north side of Galway Bay. Looking across the bay we could see from whence we came. This is a completely different landscape. It is austere. Rust coloured bogs interspersed with tea coloured lakes dot the landscape. Dry stone walls of dark stone thread their way from here to there.

Some of the enclosures are no bigger than 10 metres by 10 but they are surrounded with dry stone walls. Some of them have stood for a great many years. Others were being constructed as we passed. Some contained a few sheep. Others a few cows. Within others were old barns and shelters made of the same stone. All looked weather beaten. Then, all of a sudden we came across a few new build houses plonked in the landscape. Some were built sympathetic to the landscape whilst others were not.

The Wild Atlantic Way snakes its way west following the coastline. It is quite a strenuous drive. The road can be narrow in places. The road surface at times threatens to empty the contents of the cupboards into the cabin. The suspension has taken a real hammering on this stretch where the road has sunk in places. Time for another stop to take a break and even among the peat bogs there are splashes of vivid colour.

Journeys end is the Shanaheever camping site just to the north of Clifden. It is another peaceful oasis of calm set back from the main road. This weekend is Bank Holiday weekend. I expect the roads will be busy now for the long weekend. We shall see.

Todays distance: 122 miles

Total distance: 847 miles