The Courier & Advertiser (Fife Edition)
Gem of a route reveals sparkling Emerald Isle
Robin enjoys a breathtaking adventure along Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way
Last time around I took you for a drive along Northern Ireland’s Causeway Coastal Route. This week I’m heading south for a breathtaking adventure along Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way. One of the world’s great drives, it revealed more than a few surprises along its spectacular way.
The Wild Atlantic Way is a whopper, a grand artery that cuts through nine counties on a 2,500km sweep all the way from Derry-Londonderry in the north of the island to Kinsale, near Cork, in the far south. I’ve chosen to tackle a chunk of it, setting off from DerryLondonderry and sweeping around the coast as far as Galway, before nipping back across to Dublin.
After picking up my Holiday Autos (www.holidayautos.com) rental car it’s off on a ferry from Northern Ireland across the Foyle. Arriving in famously wild and remote Donegal, I soon settle into a gentle rhythm cruising along behind the odd (some very odd) tractors as a sea of emerald fields, lush grass and thick forest unfurls in front of me and rugged hills rise up all around.
My first objective is to reach Malin Head, the most northerly point on the island of Ireland. From here I can make out some familiar sights – the Isle of Jura and Islay across the water in Scotland. It’s a spectacular spot and I spend an hour scanning the waters for whales and basking sharks. The latter often stop off here on their annual migrations towards Scotland.
My first meal on the Wild Atlantic Way sets the tone for what is to come. I’ve called ahead to the Seaview Tavern near Malin Head to snare a boat-fresh lobster from the local fishermen’s co-operative. It’s so fresh I can taste the sea water in the claws.
I spend the rest of the day working my way down the craggily-indented coast of Donegal in search of the village of Ardara. Here a warm welcome and a comfy bed at the Nesbitt Arms Hotel (www.nesbittarms.com) await. Dinner, too, with a generous portion of local glazed ham and turkey, washed down with my first pint of Guinness of the trip. It is closely followed by my second at the Corner House, one of the flurry of pubs in the village offering live music.
I am up early the next day, bound for some of the highest sea cliffs in Europe. Slieve League is up there with anything I’ve seen in Scotland on St Kilda, an epic sweep of cliffs that rise over 600m from the tumultuous Atlantic below. I drive right up to the second car park – it’s much closer and with better views than the first one many people halt at.
From the Slieve League car park I strap on my hiking boots and set off for one of the most spectacular cliff walks in Europe. It’s not for the inexperienced or ill prepared, especially the One Man’s Path – the name gives this narrow ridge away! The effort is worth it as you really feel the grandeur and sheer scale of the cliffs on two feet.
The next day I peel back the years by easing over to the Mullet Peninsula, deep in Gaeltacht, the Irish-speaking west of Ireland. The railway almost arrived here in the heyday of the British Empire, but this is now a sleepy backwater that offers the chance to escape the hustle and bustle of the modern world.
My base on the Mullet Peninsula is at Leim Siar (www.leimsiar.com), a cosy wee B&B overlooking the water on Blacksod Bay. This is still an active fishing village and there are few tourist facilities. Handily, the lovely couple who run it offer dinners if booked in advance. I feast on delicious fresh crab from those boats and a hearty shepherd’s pie.
From the Mullet Peninsula I can make out a crumple of hills across Blacksod Bay and it is those peaks, on Achill Island, that I set out for the next day on the Wild Atlantic Way. Achill Island proves the surprise scenic highlight of my week. As soon as I drive across the wee bridge on to Achill its voluminous peaks loom up in welcome.
I snare a B&B in the village of Keel, which is very much at the heart of island life with a sprinkling of cafés and restaurants offering the famous local salmon, mussels and mountain lamb. I sample all three during my stay and each is superb.
The literal highlight of my time on Achill is a ‘walk’ up Minaun. I cheat by driving all the way up to the mast car park near this hill’s summit. From there within half an hour I’m atop this 466m peak, admiring the grand views. To the north lies Mullet, to the south the hills of Galway, with a sprinkling of offshore islands shimmering across the horizon.
Achill is also famous for its beaches and they are stunners blessed with the sort of starched white sand you find gracing Scotland’s Outer Hebrides. Keem is worth visiting for the idyllic sands but also for the basking sharks that regularly cruise in to the bay and the epic sea cliffs that rise above the beach. If anything, Silverstrand is even more spectacular, a long sweep of sand with shallow waters and a dramatic mountain backdrop.
My next base proves another surprise, and a pleasant one at that. I’d heard little about Westport in County Mayo but this heritage town is a trim, elegant wee oasis that I instantly wish I could spend more time in. Little waterways ripple through the heart of town down towards a meeting with the ocean.
I find a sprinkling of great pubs in Westport on a lively Friday night out and also the charms of the An Port Mor. This characterful wee restaurant could not have been more welcoming. I treat myself to local oysters, followed by Mayo smoked salmon and a main course of Irish beef topped with local Atlantic scallops. Delicious!
Next up is a short drive along the Wild Atlantic Way to get to the foot of Croagh Patrick, Ireland’s most holy mountain. Thousands of pilgrims and avid walkers make the ascent every year of this 764m-high peak. It is quite a heft up as you are setting off from nigh on sea level and the path is eroded and screeridden at points. I find the effort is more than worth it though, as the peat bogs to the east give way to jaw-dropping views of the sparkling islands of Clew Bay to the north.
My last night exploring the Wild Atlantic Way is spent in the city of Galway, the largest settlement on Ireland’s west coast. I am in good company as Sheena Dignam of Galway Food Tours (www.galwayfoodtours.com) is taking me out for a foodie experience. I thoroughly recommend you join her if you are in town. We visit four venues, all of them unique and as far from the old Irish stew clichés as you can imagine.
As I sit in Tartare, my favourite of Sheena’s quartet, savouring boatfresh Galway oysters spiced up with local garnishes, I think back over my adventure on the Wild Atlantic Way. This famous route really is now one of the world’s great drives with epic scenery a near constant, but it also offers up a rich bounty of intriguing towns and villages, a treasure trove of world-class food and, yes, more than a liberal smattering of Guinness and craic. What are you waiting for?