TAKE ME TO THE ISLAND

Achill beach really lives up to its global fame

KEEM Bay on Achill Island has been named as one of the 100 best beaches in the world by the travel guide Lonely Planet.

The beach in the north of the island is described as ‘jaw-droppingly beautiful’ by Best Beaches: 100 of the World’s Most Incredible Beaches, waxing lyrical about the horseshoe bay, calling it a ‘pale-blonde beach’ set among ‘sloping green hillsides’.

But to get the full impact of Achill, you need to leave the seaside behind and stray into the boggy uplands. Anywhere will do — there are no official pathways, although there are sheep tracks — but you’d be hard put to get lost.

There are virtually no trees, and the snarling, big, gyrating Atlantic is nearly always in view. So as long as you remember which shore you parked near, you’re OK.

The second to last time I was hereabouts the wind bent me double. Possibly one of the windiest places I’ve ever been — and I’ve been round some windy corners, let it be said. It was so windy it looked as if the horizon might break loose from its moorings. But last time, it was as quiet as could be. In fact, perfect conditions to head towards the Megalithic tombs at the top of the island, open for business since the Stone Age. This is a place of magnificent desolation; an ideal opportunity to contemplate what it’s all about.

Sadly, I came to no conclusion.

Mind you, as noted in the Lonely Planet, it doesn’t have to be all uphill toil: the beaches round these parts are perfect for ambling along. White strands stretching for miles, with the sea a Picassotype melange of turquoise, purple and 40 shades of blue.

The traditional leather boat, the currach, is still used round these parts — seeing one launched, with the boat turned upside down and the fishermen inside walking it down to the water, it looks more like a gigantic beetle than anything else. From close quarters the craft looks so fragile that only a madman would take to these treacherous waters in one.

As I drove away from Keem Strand on day three of my Achill odyssey, the weather was returning to what I remembered as the norm here. The grey clouds were locking into place over the island and a steady drizzle filled the air.

I declined a visit to the Spanish Armada memorial, and boycotted Captain Boycott’s Corrymore House. But as the weather was closing in, my mission now was to get to Bervie, my guest house in Keel. I was promised afternoon tea in the conservatory where the night before I had quaffed wine and discussed poetry. ‘Quaffing’ is much the same as drinking, only you spill a bit more.

I can’t recommend the place enough. It’s the sort of snug lodgings where you don’t care if it is a fine soft day bucketing down outside. Indeed, you might prefer it. The conservatory, and many of the other rooms, look directly on to the strand and out on to the Atlantic. There is direct access to the beach for an early morning walk before a gargantuan breakfast.

I’ve even got a feeling that if you weren’t up for it, the host, the endlessly helpful John Barrett, would provide you with someone to take the walk for you to save you the bother. He’d probably do it himself.

Anyway, afternoon teas are a speciality, and after my own morning’s brisk drive from the headland I was ready for some wheaten bread and homemade jam. I watched as the Atlantic grew greyer and the far hills disappeared from view across Clew Bay. The Lonely Planet guide was correct in almost every detail.

B&B at Bervie Guest Accommodation costs from €75 per person, call 098 43114 or visit bervieachill.com