Outdoor Discoveries

A day on Aran

This is the last of four hiking trip reports from an August 2018 stay in Galway that allowed me to venture on day hikes in the counties of Clare and Galway. The first of the four ventured along part of County Clare’s Atlantic Coast, while the second related reconnaissance wanderings around Connemara, and the third followed a section of the Western Way as it went from Maam Cross to Oughterard. There is also an account of a preceding evening stroll around Galway among my Travel Jottings. This instalment describes a day out on the largest of the Aran Islands.

It often is the case that I get more adventurous on the last full day of a trip away. The cause is that I have got acclimatised sufficiently in a place to do so. This is something that I noticed on a trip to Iceland in 2015, and it has recurred so many times since then that it almost is a regular pattern. One downside to all this is that it can jeopardise making a return flight on time if things go awry.

There were a few reasons for my heading out to Inishmore, as it is known in the English language. First, there is a handy walking loop on the island with added side trips if I wanted to explore more of the place. One of those would take me to the well-known Dún Aonghasa, and there are others. The name of this first fort also echoes my own surname in the Irish language, Ó hAonghusa, though the link may be more incidental than concrete in nature.

Skies were grey as I left Galway and travelled by bus through south Connemara, and within sight of the coastline. There was plenty of time to buy a ticket and catch a passenger ferry, too. There were a few leaving at the same time, so there was plenty of space for everyone, a good thing since day trippers on coach excursions were going too. In fact, I got onto the island earlier than I might have hoped.

The chance of hiring a bike might have been tempting, but I kept things simple and stuck with the Shank’s Mare approach. As part of orientation, I followed the island’s central road a little before turning back on myself to go in the direction of Killeany. At An Poll Mór, I turned onto the Back Road to continue in the direction of Gort na gCapall, not having seen much in the way of sunshine. The lanes were quiet, though, and I wanted to avoid the minibus and horse-drawn excursion traffic going down the spine of the island.

This section was to be the quietest part of my hike around Aran, and I certainly relished the quietude of it all. The grey barrenness of the landscape was as striking as it was reminiscent of the Burren in County Clare. Quite how anyone could make a living here was somewhat revealed during my reading of Tim Robinson’s Stones of Aran duology later in the year. It certainly is not easy harvesting seaweed or bird’s eggs while finishing off cattle for the market on the dry landscape in exchange for turf from the mainland.

Just as Aran’s human history is not so extensive in scale, notable event or record, its landscape is seemingly simple as well. There are no big hills to draw the eye, while its shoreline is another matter, with a long line of cliffs on its southern side. It is as if this land was sheared from the mainland at one time, given the similarities shared with the Burren in County Clare.

Once I was past the collection of houses that is Gort na gCapall, I was either bound for the west of the island or on my return to Kilronan. Going to the western end of Inishmore did appeal only for time concerns and a visit to Dún Aonghasa to deflect me from such a course. Visiting the fort was a must for me and I encountered my first (and perhaps only) rain of the day while en route from the gift shop where I paid the entrance fee.

Thankfully, the sun returned for me to spend a pleasant time around the antiquity while admiring the surrounding views as well. There is a raised platform in its heart that prompts questions as to why it was there and what the purpose of the construction was. The sharp drop into the surf also focusses many minds; I was to hear an American lady caution her father over exactly that consideration. This is an antiquity seemingly severed by landscape erosion, after all.

On my return from Dún Aonghasa, I stopped at the gift shop again and was stunned to hear “Go raibh míle maith agat” following a purchase of an item that did not cost much. This sadly forced an expression of gratitude in English that I regretted. The incident is probably forgotten by the other party now, but a thousand blessings felt excessive in the circumstances. Sometimes, a combination of knowing too much and translating directly is not a good one…

After that, I headed back to Kilronan while shadowing the north side of the island. The smell of horse manure was pervasive as I did so, since these roads do not get the planing that their Kerry counterparts get. This was a busier if narrow road, with pulses of added traffic intruding on a desire to keep moving. The beach at Kilmurvy too was an excuse to leave the throng for a while, but I also noticed the views of Connemara and the extra fertility of the landscape compared to what I passed through on the other side of the island. There were other opportunities to leave tarmac for a while, though, as I shortened the distance to Kilronan.

In some ways, I might have been overcautious because I had more time in Kilronan than I had expected. Small islands tend to have that effect on me; thoughts of being marooned are not good ones, and they first arose on a primary school trip to Sherkin Island, even though we surely were OK that time. Others were not so burdened and could wait, but I left them to that after using Kilronan as a food and information gathering stop.

On the return sailing, I noticed just how the boat swayed from side to side in the sea. It was easy to see how some might get thrown overboard, and I need to stop myself going too far just the once. Otherwise, it was a case of admiring what basked in the sun as we passed it. For one thing, the hills of Clare were catching some sunshine in the otherwise grey gloom. The lighthouse on Oileán an Tuí was another beneficiary, as was Inishmaan.

On getting back to Rossaveal, I started to explore the place a little without much sunshine or other movement. To me, this was a stilly part of Ireland, where Aran Island traffic became the only cause of any hubbub. There may have been signs for a seemingly defunct hiking trail, but this did not feel like walking country. That meant there was time for another food stop before the bus came to collect me and those who arrived from Aran on a later ferry.

While I was happy to be going back to Galway to get ready for returning to the U.K. the next day, it had been a good day out and there are possibilities for going back to see more of the place. Inishmore’s hotel offers the chance of a stay, avoiding any anxiety about getting marooned should the weather play nice. That would allow wandering to the western and eastern extremities without qualms, and it may even mean that early and late hour quietude could be enjoyed, especially if pleasing lighting was on offer. That would make a nice short break with plenty of strolling and, perhaps, some cycling as well.

The same comments may apply to Inishmaan or Inisheer just as well. They might even fit in with a return to Clare’s western coastline. Exploring that in brighter weather really does appeal, and there are passenger ferry connections from Doolin too. When reconnaissance has happened, more possibilities can emerge.

Travel Arrangements

Return bus journey on Bus Éireann service 424 between Galway and Rossaveal and return boat sailing between Rossaveal and Inishmore with Aran Island Ferries.

When sunshine arrived late on the way from Maam Cross to Oughterard

This is the third of four hiking trip reports from an August 2018 stay in Galway that allowed me to venture on day hikes in the counties of Clare and Galway. The first of the four ventured along part of County Clare’s Atlantic Coast, while the second related reconnaissance wanderings around Connemara. There is also an account of a preceding evening stroll around Galway among my Travel Jottings. The last of the lot will describe a day out on the largest of the Aran Islands.

This account is of a day hike between Maam Cross to Oughterard that used a section of the Western Way for much of its route. The night before had been beset with heavy rain, leaving some of the distance in a waterlogged state. That lay in the future on a dry, overcast morning when I caught a bus from Galway to Maam Cross. From there, I started along the R336 towards Leenaun.

There was motor traffic along the road, but it was not oppressive, and someone stopped to ask if I was a local. Whether it was someone who knew me and I might have known at one time remains unknown to me, but I shared what I was about anyway and continued my hike. You do not want to upset anyone, but the passage of time and my being in numerous places along a life journey can mean that you may not recognise people who you should know. The greying and loss of hair are no help for the recognition of old acquaintances either.

Like the previous day, low cloud obscured most summits. That limited views and photographic efforts in what would have been a bewitching location in sunshine and under blue skies. A French family were figuring out where they were going at the point where I joined the Western Way and left the R336 behind me. The ground was boggy underfoot, and I soon started along the longest section of boardwalk that I had met in my entire life.

This led me under the slopes of Lackavrea and through a waterlogged forestry plantation. Owning some forestry land myself, I was stunned to see where this state forestry plantation was sited, for it might not have been approved for a private scheme. It also meant that there was a chance of drowning if you fell off the boardwalk, especially with a hefty rucksack on your back. Careful foot placement was in order because there were places where repairs were needed.

The route shadowed the Forlore River that flows from Loughanillaun to Lough Corrib. It was not a boardwalk all the way and I rested at one point, which allowed the French family to ask the way to Lough Corrib, and I showed them using the ViewRanger app on my phone before leaving them to go on their way. That would have passed where the Forlore and Owenree rivers come together, with Lough Corrib nearby.

This was an enticing spot that had me longing for more sunshine and less greyness. On a bright, sunny day, I might have been rooted to the spot for a good while with all the hills that lay all around me. It was a matter of enjoying things as much as I could before joining the quiet single-track road that would carry the rest of the way into Oughterard. There was even a chance of a lunch stop as well, and I got wished Bon Appétit from another French speaker.

Road hiking is never rated highly by many who enjoy countryside walking because of the hard surface and its unforgiving effects on one’s feet. In Ireland, many Waymarked Ways proceed along this type of surface, and it might be said that Irish boreen walking is a unique experience not found anywhere else. At least, that came to mind during a walk on part of the Dingle Way earlier this year.

All the while, the cloud cover was breaking up over my head to allow for spells of sunshine. The sun was getting through with varying levels of success, and this variation was temporal as well. Still, there were moments you could use for added admiration of the surroundings. An All Ireland Hurling Final in which Galway were playing Limerick was ensuring that there was much quietude. Around Slievenavinnoge, though, some were out picking berries from roadside bushes as I was passing. Not everyone was dedicated to supporting their county team that day.

There was a side trip to Lough Seecon as well, and quite what made me do this is somewhat lost to me. My guess is that I fancied a little variety, as it was a short break from the road tramping. Timing was on my mind since I did not want to miss a bus connection in Oughterard, with more to walk before I got there. In the end, my fears were completely groundless, as they so often are, and I got the side trip that I fancied.

It was quiet around Oughterard when I got there. Galway had lost the game, and Limerick became All-Ireland Hurling Champions for the first time since 1973. They have had a run of such results in recent years, despite or maybe even because of the travails of a global pandemic. After a call to a shop for necessities and some small talk about my walk, I found my way to the banks of the Owenriff River where I enjoyed another food stop, this time in bright sunshine.

After that, the vigil awaiting the next bus to Galway could begin. There was even more time to spend than I could have expected for the Clifden Show traffic was heavy and causing delays. My departure was well late and very full, though I ended up getting a free ride. Someone else missed their intended connection for Dublin and was not best pleased when it left as the Clifden bus was arriving. If this was a Bus Éireann operation, the service to Dublin might have been held, but that is not always the case with private operators who employ drivers born outside of Ireland. Hopefully, she got where she needed to be.

That was left after me as I returned to my hotel following a long day spent in much quietude. Another visit when there is more sunshine would add more delights, but this was a good start. There is a lot around Connemara for a hill wanderer, though trailheads have to be identified and public transport planned. With initial encounters completed, deeper incursions can follow.

Travel Arrangements

Single journeys with Bus Éireann on route 419 from Galway to Maam Cross and with Irish Citylink on route 923 from Oughterard to Galway.

A grey day around Connemara

The second full day of my August 2018 trip to the West of Ireland remained dry until the evening when heavy rain came. That persisted overnight, and I was to see its effects the next day. The incoming weather front ensured that leaden skies that engulfed the tops of even low hills. Thus, even the prospect of getting clear views from any kind of elevation was going to be a non-starter.

That was a little way into the future when I went into Galway’s coach station to catch a bus to Recess. Most were assembling for tourist coach excursions with traditional Irish music playing in the background. What amazed was how easily relief coaches would appear to take the overflow. It really was a case of earning revenue while the customers were there.

When I did get to Recess, the day felt decidedly autumnal. Views over Glendollagh Lough were so grey and overcast that any photos would be record shot material. My target for a hike was Cnoc Lios Uachtar, but that was so buried in low cloud that I changed my plans. What I desired were clear views, not a navigational challenge.

Instead, I opted for a yomp around by Derryclare Lough. The Twelve Bens were just as cloud covered as their lower neighbour, so anything featuring one of Ireland’s best known photographic subjects was going to need a return visit if I wanted my own effort at capturing the view to somewhat shine for me. What also amazed me is the electrical power lines blighted the scene. Burying them sounds a tempting way to rewild what is there.

Following the R344 got me to Weir Bridge, where thoughts of following the old railway line appealed. Sadly, they were not realistic, so I followed the N59 to Recess. Given the size of the place and the conditions, I ended up catching another bus to Clifden. Rushed boarding meant that another passenger needed to duck out of the way of the load on my back. This was yet another argument in favour of the folding walking poles that did not arrive in time for my trip. Nevertheless, there was no lasting impact to the day because of this oversight.

Once in Clifden, I pottered towards the coast. Following a minor road took me along by its harbour before I turned inland to return to the town centre again. This was another short stroll and the place was quiet, even though this was the weekend of its annual agricultural show. That was set to have an impact on traffic the following day, but it had little impact on my roaming before then.

Another bus returned me to Galway, where I had plans for the evening. On the way, I noted where Clifden Show was being held and all the horse boxes that were parked in its vicinity. After that, there were stopping points for beginning hikes near and around the Twelve Bens. There were many lakes to see too, for this is countryside that is well watered. Perhaps perversely, there was some brighter weather around Oughterard and Moycullen, but I just admired any scenery that we passed. Some of the reconnaissance would be used on the following day.

Travel Arrangements

Single journeys with Irish Citylink from Galway to Recess, Recess to Clifden and Clifden to Galway.

A damp hike along Clare cliff tops

This report comes from a trip to the counties of Galway and Clare in August 2018. While that year brought a lot of sunshine, this was a fading memory by the time of a stay that was based in Galway city. The autumn was to bring a share of rain that was welcomed by farmers, who otherwise faced a tough end to a year when feeding for livestock was in short supply.

Though there were sunny interludes, grey weather was my lot for much of the time. Given the rather clandestine nature of the escapade (very few knew what I was doing, since I fancied some quiet time to myself in the country of my birth), the juxtaposition of less-than-glorious weather felt like a repudiation of what I was doing. Even so, I made the best of it.

The first full day of the trip came damp, yet that did not deter me from going to Cliffs of Moher and Doolin. The outbound bus journey rounded Galway Bay with a sighting of Dunguaire Castle near Kinvarra before we then continued around by Black Head. On a bright, sunny day, this would have been a glorious journey. Alas, another attempt will be needed for that, and the castle looked inviting too.

What was equally striking was the narrowness of the roads that the bus driver needed to negotiate, especially with ongoing cars. Several buses left Galway at the same time to follow the same route, each one having a different final destination. It seems that Irish summer school holidays allow extra bus services to run, and for existing ones to get capacity improvements. All get withdrawn at the end of summer, when schools reopen for the new academic year.

The bus called to Doolin, so I got to see its calling point for the end of my planned walk. There, most of the passengers appeared to leave too. Once at the Cliffs of Moher, there was a shout for us to pay for our way into the amenity. If I had gone to Lehinch or Liscannor, I wonder if that charge might have been avoided. For a better day, thoughts of walking from either of those to Doolin have their appeal.

Instead, I pottered south as far as the Moher Tower on Hag’s Head before turning back again. Some were edging towards the cliff edge as I suppressed urges to roar at them to get back. Limestone is a slippery rock when wet, so any slippage would have been fatal; it was easy to see why superintendents were using whistles to tell people to stay back. The prospect of a long drop into the cold surf was enough to make me to the landward side of any fencing slabs that were present. Views were restricted by the damp fog and mist, and photography was limited. Only record shots were a possibility.

The way back towards the Visitor Center and O ‘Brien’s Tower often got slowed by those unaccustomed to walking, for these cliffs are world-famous and a must-see on any coaching tour of Ireland. My desire for speed may have intruded on their day, but I got past all of them on what was a narrow path. The way up Branaunmore was misty but well paved, and it was the descent down the other side that held my attention because that was less well surfaced with added exposure as well.

Things got less dramatic once I got past Knockardakin, and I largely had the trail to myself all the way to Doolin, too. The Burren Way briefly took me onto tarmac before returning to field crossing again. The obvious trail stayed back from any edges, so I got to relax a bit more. Largely having things to myself also helped with this as I shortened the distance to Doolin with a castle in view to my right.

The time of arrival meant that I had quite a wait for the next bus. That was used for getting something to eat and to see where boats depart for the Aran Islands and for trips under the Cliffs of Moher. The extra time may have been available because I had just missed a departing bus that I never saw, but there was no let-up on the greyness, even if the dampness had stalled.

There was no mistake made in getting on the next bus to Galway, and it went by a different route. This took us via Lisdoonvarna and gave us a brief stop at Corkscrew Hill to savour the view of Galway Bay below us. From Ballyvaughan, we were going back the way as the outbound bus had gone. Weather does not always work in our favour, so a revisit remains a plausible possibility.

Travel Arrangements

Return bus journey between Galway and Doolin on Bus Éireann service 350.

Added meaning

Reading about a location without having been there is not the same as reading about places where you have been. By having been somewhere, there is an added resonance that otherwise would be missing. It is as if a connection has been made and its absence is very noticeable when I go looking at destinations in North America, Australasia or any other part of the world where I have not travelled. Moreover, it is especially apparent if I go writing about any of these.

For whatever reason, I most often seem to build such associations through solitary perambulations rather than being with others as so many do. Even if it feels like a false dualism, there are some reasons why I operate in this way. One is that it allows serendipity that otherwise would be confounded by the preconceptions of others. Another is that my personality type often causes me to act too deferentially to avoid any form of conflict.

That may how explain Irish outings with my late parents often were constrained by their preferences and what they had fallen into doing. Even so, my having developed an aversion to how they enjoyed coastal scenery meant that we went to Gougane Barra and Killarney quite a bit. Walks and photo stops were limited compared to what would be had on a day hike and the abundance of photos that I have brought back with me from recent trips to Ireland are ample proof of that.

While it is the place of my birth, upbringing and much of my formal education, Ireland was always one of those places that I had not visited like the others. When you have family somewhere, the connectedness is good but it can limit opportunities for personal exploration when you live in another country as I have done.

Some ongoing life changes mean that this year is changing that state of affairs with various trips across the Irish Sea. Every county in the province of Munster has seen my footfall on three different trips. The first offered unexpected opportunities as much as I was glad of those during the second one. Then, there was a third that gave me what I had hoped to get and then went beyond this again.

In each of these, being out for walks in the Irish countryside allowed me to connect with it in a way that I have not done before. Going on foot meant going slower and that really helped since you do lose something by running or cycling through a landscape and using motorised transport means that you lose even more than self-powered travel. Walking means that you can stop whenever a view halts you so it can be savoured and embraced. 2022 has allowed a lot of this so far.

An endpoint is that I no longer look through Mountain Views or other published material about Irish hillwalking as if I am separated by a pane of glass but have found my own way into and around the Irish hills. There is added meaning for me now while I mull over trip ideas that take me into the Dublin, Wicklow and Mourne Mountains while also visiting or revisiting western locales. A return to Clare and Connemara would follow up on my 2018 trip nicely and there also is much to savour around Mayo and Donegal. My mind wanders as I muse over these prospects and what I have enjoyed so far might even free me up to act on such designs.