It's hard to believe, but it just keeps getting better. Co. Mayo seems to have a very high concentration of stunning landscapes for its size. And we have made a pretty good run at seeing it.
When some blue skies appeared Wednesday, we knew we had better take our best shot--in other words, drive what we expected to be the most scenic route in this area. That meant Achill Island. We had read about it in our Fodor Guide, in the Frommer's Ireland Driving Tours book, on the Karen Brown website, and on a short list of recommended drives at our hotel.
We drove north to Newport then Mulranny and then out to the Corran Peninsula. We immediately turned onto the Atlantic Drive (which is, of course, part of the Wild Atlantic Way). It starts gently, but then opens out to lovely views across Clew Bay to Clare Island, the largest of Mayo's islands. We climbed to a couple high vantage points before following the peninsula shoreline up Achill Sound.
One thing that blew us away was the profusion of wild rhodies. We have been seeing them all over Ireland, but they were everywhere we looked in this area. We drove through sections where the roadway was surrounded on both sides by walls of blooming rhodies. In other places, there were hills above us or fields below us, again filled with purple blooms. We once were lucky to be in Scotland in heather season, but I think being in Ireland during wild rhododendron season beats that.
After taking the bridge onto Achill Island, we once again immediately turned off onto another stretch of the Atlantic Drive. We drove down the island's Sound shoreline then rounded the bend of the island to be confronted with a sweeping view of crashing surf and the Atlantic coastline all the way out to Achill Head. Truly wild and beautiful. And we were feeling so lucky to get to see it on a bright, sunny day.
While the road was bracing at times, we fared very well. For one thing, there were only a handful of folks sharing this stunning shoreline with us. We saw only two tour buses all day, and, blessedly, they were going the same direction we were.
We took a break in Knockmore, where the road turns inland and climbs into the hills. We stopped at Mickey's Bar (how wonderfully Irish does that sound?) for what has become our Irish standard--a bowl of seafood chowder with brown bread.
We took the road further west toward Achill Head, ending at Keel with its long strand under towering cliffs. We saw a large surfing school testing the waves, a couple of horseback riders, and one very intrepid sunbather. Trust me, anyone brave enough to wear a bikini in these temperatures and this wind is someone very serious about getting a tan!
We took a short loop drive on the west end of the island then made our way back to Mulranny. We turned north and drove through some pretty countryside and then south along a lake to return to Westport, feeling we'd taken good advantage of this break in the weather.
Thursday threw us a bit of a curve. We were enveloped in such a fine mist, we might as well have been in a fog bank. So we gave ourselves a morning off. But when the skies lifted a bit in early afternoon, we took off on what we thought would be the second most scenic route, a loop through the Murrisk Peninsula.
We started off with a lunch stop in the town of Murrisk, which is the starting point for the ascent of Croagh Patrick. The Tavern Bar and Restaurant is written up everywhere. For such a simple place, it has won quite a few accolades for the quality of its food. We had fish and chips made from Clew Bay cod, Clew Bay being right outside the door. A lovely, flaky piece of fish. It has forever changed my notion of what cod fish and chips can be. I also knew this was a likely place to find the craft beer that is made in a neighboring community, also at the foot of Croagh Patrick, Ireland's sacred mountain. Mecsan is the brewing company, and Westporter Stout was the beer I was seeking. It is a Belgian style, bottle conditioned, and very good. Worth the stop on its own.
Setting off on our planned trek, we expected an attractive drive in the hills. What we didn't expect was the haunting beauty of the Doo Lough Pass. The pass runs between the Mweelrea Mountains to the west and the Sheeffry Hills to the east. We only passed a couple cars the whole time. To have this awesome landscape all to ourselves was almost otherworldly. Just us and a few sheep.
This pass is the site of one of the saddest stories from the Great Famine in 1849. Six hundred starving people walked through this pass to their landowner's home in Delphi Lodge, to the south of the lake. They were denied food and started back north, but 200 of them died along the road. So I use the term "haunting" purposely.
We drove miles along Doo Lough after descending from the pass and came to Delphi, which is a revered angling area. We saw ample evidence of fishermen along the Owengarr River. Soon, we were driving along the north shore of the Killary fjord before bumping into Aasleagh Falls and then looping back north to Westport. A lovely loop drive, much more spectacular than we'd even dreamed.
Friday was our day to explore the pretty little Georgian town of Westport. The rain was holding off most of the time, but the wind was vigorous. We walked every street and visited a few shops. We walked the length of The Mall, two tree-lined streets that flank the Carrowbeg River that runs through town. Arched bridges, Georgian houses, a very bustling downtown. The town "square" is called the Octagon, a rather "fun" traffic spot (ask Jerry).
A view to Croagh Patrick, a pilgrimage site and Ireland's sacred mountain, with Westport below.
Westport:
Busy Bridge Street, with the clock tower at the end:
Georgian houses along the South Mall:
The Octagon:
By afternoon, the wind was rattling windows. Still mostly sunny, but a force to be reckoned with, I'm telling you. By bedtime, when I am completing this, the wind is still blowing hard. Very interesting sound effects and good for making us glad to be inside.
This is the end of our time in Mayo. Tomorrow we head north to Donegal and more Wild Atlantic Way opportunities.
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