STAGES 84-85: Casla (Costello) to Galway City 

The darling buds of May light up Connemara

With Donald Smith who joined me on the Sunday

            Stage 84

Co. Galway: Casla (Costello) to Spiddal

            Saturday 27 May 2023

         33.58km or 20.87miles

Sticking to the coast all the way

‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May’

This is the first time I’ve quoted Shakespeare on my blog. I love that phrase ‘the darling buds of May’. I was thinking of it as I ran along the beautiful Co. Galway coast with all those wild flowers blooming in the May sunshine. I’m sad to say that my long love affair with Connemara is coming to an end this weekend as I arrive in Galway City. On the other hand I am excited to finally reach my native town. It's been a long journey so far. Once again we drove down from Co. Down on the Friday night and stayed in Oranmore with my sister-in-law, Aideen & her husband Kieran Hurley. The Hurleys also welcomed a friend of mine from Bangor, Donald Smith who happened to be in the west of Ireland. Donald was competing in the tough Burren Marathon on the Saturday and is joining me for tomorrows run. 

I park my car at the petrol station in Casla (or Costello as it was previously called.) As usual I leave a spare Clifton Coastal shirt in my car just in case anybody is wondering why it’s parked there all day. It’s 8.05am and I run along the R336, the Furnace Road. At the small crossroads I take a right turn on the R372 as far as the quays at Rossaveel.

The harbour at Rossaveel

Ros an Mhil (Rossaveel) literally means ‘wood of the whale (or sea monster)’ so now I might have to contend with enormous sea creatures. In fact, as recent as May 2021, there was a huge jellyfish caught here in Rossaveel. It was so rare that we don’t even have an English (or Irish) word for it, just a scientific name, Thalassobathia pelagica. It likes to keep the company of a monster jellyfish known as ‘Stygiomedusa gigantea'. Perhaps I shouldn’t run too close to the shore today!

Wind Turbine at Rossaveel - see size of houses compared to it

The whole harbour has been redeveloped and the government have said that Rossaveel’s proximity to offshore projects and a deep-sea berth would provide an opportunity to take advantage of the wind industry. They have invested 25 million euro in the project. The ‘elephant in the room’ here is the massive Wind Turbine which dominates the skyline for miles around. Rossaveel is also the main port for connecting to the Aran Islands. Having said all that, it is still very quiet at this time of the morning.

Martello Tower: So near but so hard to reach

I decide to stay by the coast and rough it through rocks and fields. It’s not a pleasant experience as I trample through gorse and thorn bushes and climb over a few electric fences. I can see the Martello Tower in the distance but it’s not that easy to get to. Finally, I do reach the tower. The writer, Tim Robinson describes it as ‘’just standing there like a giant’s chess piece ready to make it move.’’ He has got a point. It does look like a large pawn in a game of chess. 

Martello Tower

I didn't try to climb into the tower - I might have dropped in

There were similar structures built all around Ireland in the early 1800’s. These type of towers were strategically placed to stop a French invasion by Napoleon’s army. That doesn't surprise me as it was only a few years before in 1798 that General Humbert arrived in north Mayo. (as I referred to back in Stage 47). Humbert’s small army caused a lot of damage and embarrassment for the British establishment in Connacht. Today, the Martello Tower looks neglected. However, as I referred to in a previous blog, Russian Ships have been spotted in Irish water, so maybe we should reinstate these look-outs towers!

Looking across to Tra na Reilig where I was earlier this month

Leaving the tower, I continue south and rough it along the coast to the bottom of the Rossaveel hill, literally called, Toin an Chnoic. There is even a style to climb over which gives me some encouragement that there might be some kind of path ahead. 

Always encouraging to see a style - but the only one I saw today

There is no path ahead but I run to the bottom of the peninsula and start to look out for a trail that will take me north again. However, there are cows here that give me darting looks so I circle around the peninsula and eventually I do join the boreen. 

The old Martello Tower (early 1800's) and new Wind Turbine (early 2000's)

The hated Blakes

Tim Robinson writes about how ‘the Blakes emptied the townland of Toin an Chnoic across the bay to an even more barren bog of ‘Baile an tSleibhe’, the settlement of the mountain’. It was all part of the Blakes tidying up or clearing plan so that they could build their fortress, Cashel House on the shore a few miles further east at Tully, near Connemara Airport. 

Boreen north from Toin an Chnoic

I should admit to a family connection as my great, great, grandmother was Bridget Blake. I had always been quite proud of the fact, that I was related to one of fourteen tribes of Galway. I even know all the tribes, off by heart, Athy, Blake, Bodkin etc. However, in this part of Co. Galway my ancestors were referred to as ‘the hated Blakes’. Robinson explains this further ‘’adding insult to injury, the Blakes supported the Irish Church Mission in its efforts to convert their tenants to Protestantism. The converts were given cash for attending services. Having got their sixpence from the Protestants, they would go straight to the Catholic chapel for Mass and contribute a penny, thus making a profit of five pence’’.  

Georgie, Brid's cat

I proceed on the trail, loop around a narrow channel and follow a coastal road south. I think this area is the Baile an tSleibhe referred to above. It’s turning out to be a warm and sunny day. I’m beginning to feel very thirsty and I’m trying to save my gels for later. I spot a lady in her front garden and ask her for a drink. Her name is Brid and she kindly gets me a big glass of water. We have a lovely chat in the morning sunshine as Georgie, her cat hides in the long grass.

Sli Connemara

l say slán to Brid and Georgie and at the T junction take a left and then right, signposted ‘Sli Connemara’, heading further south all the way to the shore. I’m lucky I did get that glass of water because I stay by the shore for the rest of the day and don't pass any more houses.

Another encouraging sign to see

Sli Connemara: I read that this trail is ‘a 220km way-marked route that begins in Galway City and winds its way out to Connemara’. This is encouraging but I take this statement with a pinch of salt. It then says under ‘advisory’ that the route is not maintained, and maps are now obsolete. I think it was just another project that was too ambitious for a small country like ours. Still, it is promising to see this type of sign. I’d settle for a few more stiles to help me on my way. This whole area by the coast is known as ‘Cois Fharraige’.

Dr. Noel Browne

Passing the graveyard, Reilig Mhairois, I’m able to stay by the coast and decide to keep south of the lake, Lough na Creibhinne (or Lough Nagravin). The cemetery and the lake remind me of Noel Browne who was Minister for Health in the 1950's. He lived and retired to this area. Dr. Browne was ahead of his time - too far ahead of his time for the Catholic Church and for some of the medical profession. As a young Health Minister he eradicated tuberculosis (TB) and tried to bring in a National Health Service to Ireland. Even when he retired here in south Connemara in the 1970's he helped the local community. He encouraged a neighbour to fish in Lough na Creibhinne, which under an old system of private ownership, was forbidden. Noel Brown was a true socialist and fought for the less privileged all through his life. Dr Browne’s mother and sister had been buried in a pauper’s grave, both lost to tuberculosis. Brown just wanted “to have an ordinary stone off a wall” as a burial marker.  

Reilig Mhaoirois

Sli Connemara - sometimes good for running

At Bhaile na nAbhann (townland on the river) I have to briefly move inland but I’m still able to run on a boreen close to the shore and then re-join the coast. Near Indreabhan (Inveran) I spot two planes heading out to the Aran Islands. I have just passed Connemara Airport. It would be a perfect day to fly over to the islands.

Previous coastal runner?

Baile na hAbhainn Pier

But too wide to jump across

I’m surprised how easy this part of the coastline is to manoeuvre. However, after a  while I found the rocky terrain, although flat, a bit sore to run on. The hard surface would not be recommended if you were suffering from a dose of plantar fasciitis! However, a good pair of sturdy mountain boots would have made it a very pleasant walk. Still, there were also some grassy and trail sections which were perfect for the runner.

Even though it is close to high tide now, I’m still able to cross a short footbridge over a river at Poll na Mioltog

Crossing river at Poll na Mioltog

Memorial for 'the unbaptised'

I pass what was once a cemetery for the unbaptised, usually new-born babies. I’ve referred to these Cillineachs a few times in my blog and called it a kind of warped morality in not letting the unbaptised be buried in a proper graveyard. Today there is a monument on the shore trying to redress some of the past ideology.  

Graveyard for 'the unbaptised' with new memorial

And not far away, along the shore I come across another memorial

Lochan Beag – Sea Mine Explosion

A WorldWar1 mine exploded here on 15 June 1917. Hard to believe that any of the great wars came so close to Galway. When the landmine was first spotted on the beach, local people didn’t understand what it was. Some men tried to tow it in to shore and when they realised that it might be dangerous, it was too late. It exploded, killing nine men. Afterwards, the British government insisted that ‘none of their mines laid in or near Galway Bay’.  The inquest was held the very next day in Thigh Mhaimí Costello, now An Poitín Stil. Quickly a decision was reached and concluded that it was a German landmine. However, some argued that the prompt judgement taken, was to emphasise that there would be no compensation available from the then British government.

Memorial for nine men who lost lives in 1917 Landmine

Beach where landmine was pulled ashore

I look around and can’t help thinking that this place looks exactly as it did in 1917. Nothing has changed, except it's high tide now. What a shock it must have been to those poor men and their families.

I continue following the coast. There are lots of small beaches along here. Even ‘An Tra Mor’ isn’t that big despite its name. Although it is a beautiful day, there aren’t too many people around.

Hard stones for the runner's feet

The coastline gets uneven and rougher from now on. I cross another stream by way of a slippery causeway. However, I am getting close to my finish line. I know there is a bus at 13.41 from Spiddal to Casla (where I left my car). If I miss that, I would have to wait ninety minutes for the next one. I push on and when I finally reach the pier at Spiddal, I sprint up the hill and get to the town just before the bus arrives. Luckily I’ve saved my last gel for the trip back to Carna. When I get on the bus, I offer payment to the driver, but he says, ‘Were you the man I saw running at 8 o clock in Carna’. He nods me in for a free bus journey. It’s a pleasant ending to a hard-working day. 

                                                  Stage 85

                    Co. Galway: An Spideal  to Salthill

                                    Sunday 28 May 2023:

                                     20.82km or 12.94miles

Too rough to run along coast until Furbo. After that, it was just about achievable

I have a friend, Donald Smith (who also lives in Bangor, Co. Down) joining me today. It's the first time anyone has run with me since arriving in Co. Galway in Easter 2022. Donald, the flying Scotsman, had just completed a tough marathon in Co. Clare yesterday and so joined me for this stretch into Galway City. We take two cars out to Salthill, leave one in Blackrock and I drive out to Spiddal. Even though I grew up in Galway city, I never realised, until now, that the name An Spideal derives from the word ospideal (hospital). Hospital facilities were based in the area and there was a famine hospital here in the 1840’s.

Starting run from pier at Spiddal

Great to have Donald join me today

It's not as warm this morning but perfect weather for running. Donald and I start at the pier and loop around the coast to the main beach. We pass a statue here commemorating Martin O’Cadhain, the writer from Spiddal.

With Martin O' Cadhain

Martin O’Cadhain (1905-70) and the Irish Language

He dedicated his life to safeguarding the Irish language and said.. “Ní tárrtháilfear an Ghaeilge gan an Ghaeltacht a thárrtháil, agus ní tárrtháilfear an Ghaeltacht gan an talamh.” (Irish won’t be saved without the Gaeltacht being saved, and the Gaeltacht won’t be saved without the land)

The number of Irish speakers decreased dramatically after the Great Famine of the 1840s when the language became associated with backwardness, poverty, and despair. There were still four million speakers of Irish on the eve of the famine in 1841, but by 1891 the figure had fallen to 680,000. Accelerating the decline was the fact that large numbers of Irish-speaking parents — believing that the language would hold back their children, who would mostly have to emigrate to America, Britain, or Australia — ceased speaking to their children in Irish.

On Spiddal Pier: John Ford, second left and John Wayne, second right

Also, in Spiddal during the making of the Quiet Man in 1951, John Wayne helped to dunk in the sea, the director, John Ford. It was a way of congratulating Ford who had just been rewarded as an honorary Rear Admiral in the US Navy. 

Donald Smith: The flower of Scotland!

From the main beach at An Spideal, Donald and I realised that it would have been too hazardous to stay by the shore, so we run along the main road as far as Na Forbacha (Furbo) and then we rejoin the coast. It’s still only 8.30am and quiet on a Sunday morning.

Saying goodbye to Connemara

The terrain along here is tricky. Sometimes there is the odd trail but mostly it’s an uneven, rocky section that’s impossible to run on. We meet a few kids along here who are very curious about what we’re doing. I tell them proudly that we’re running around the coast of Ireland. One of them says ‘but you’re walking’. 

We weren't expecting to see a fancy Bandstand on the Connemars coast

Sometimes we can avoid the big rocks by running along fields. However, one or two houses, say ‘private property’ so we come inland again. 

We’re back down to the shore before the village of Barna and eventually reach the pier there. From the harbour we’re able to stay on the coast and rough it along the shore. The tide is about halfway in, so at least we have some sand to run on.  

With 'Private Property' sign we had to make a detour inland for about a mile 

Bearna Pier

Barna's equivalent of Donegal's 'Baid Eddie' 

Finally, we arrive on An Tra Bhan (white strand) according to the OS map but I and every true Galwegian know the beach as Silverstrand. It sounds even better in Irish, Tra na gCeann, although that means, beach of the head/top. As a youngster in Galway city I often cycled out here. It always felt a bit exotic, away from busy Salthill.  

At Silverstrand Beach

Sign at Silverstrand

 

Running out to Gentian Hill, Salthill

It is a great pity that there is not some kind of coastal trail from Salthill to here. It would be a beautiful walk from Blackrock to Silverstrand and would cut down a lot of traffic. However, there is a narrow but deep channel of water to cross from Silverstrand, even at low tide. A good foot bridge would be needed to reach Blackrock and Salthill. 

So, Donald and I leave the strand, run up the hill and join the R336 towards Galway. We take a right turn for Salthill and shortly take another right into a small housing development, signposted Gentian Hill.  

Originally my plan was to finish today’s run at Knocknacarra Community Centre, the home of Galway’s parkrun. (this is where I’ll start my next stage). However, I decided it would be better to continue running today as far as Blackrock in Salthill. Also, I thought it would be easier today to tackle the headland, ‘Oilean na Feamainne’ just south of Blackrock. Remember this is a coastal run so I try to cover most of it.   

On top of headland, Gentian Hill and looking back towards Salthill 

I always believed this headland was called either Blakes Hill or Gentian Hill (after the wild blue flowers that grow there) but the name on the OS map is ‘Oilean na Feamainne’ (island of the seaweed). 

View from Gentian Hill to Silver Strand

At the end of a row of houses, Donald and I follow a very narrow grassy path that leads to a rocky shore under the corroding cliffs. We cross a narrow channel and eventually reach Oilean na Feamainne (or Gentian Hill). Yes, I’ll continue to call this headland Gentian Hill, even if Donald and I, as it happened, couldn't find any blue gentian flowers on it! We did climb up onto the grassy headland to admire the panoramic view, out across Galway Bay and back in towards Salthill. Whatever the headland is called, it's a beautiful quiet oasis, so close to a busy city.

Dipping our feet at Blackrock

Arrival in Galway City

We slowly make our way back (more rocks) and reach the coastal pathway that takes us to Blackrock. After soaking our tired feet in the sea, Donald and I relax in the amphitheatre opposite the diving boards. We sit alongside a few more spectators watching the brave swimmers jump into the sea and performing to the Galway public. 

Watching the divers perform in Blackrock

   

And finally, 'kicking the wall' on Salthill prom as only true Galwegians do!

STAGES 82-83: Lettermullan Island & Carraroe Peninsula

At Tra an Doilin, An Cheathru Rua

                Stage 82

 Co. Galway: Leitir Meallain Island

         Sunday 6 May 2023

          14.12km or 8.78miles

Covering as much of Leitir Meallain as possible

“Na treig an bothar mor, mar gheall ar an aichearra’’ (don’t abandon the main road for the sake of a shortcut)

Tim Robinson described this part of Connemara as ‘a land without short cuts’ and in my experience it is never worth taking any short cuts. You might miss something special!

It’s the coronation of King Charles III and the fact that I live in Northern Ireland, means that I’ve been given an extra bank holiday. A long weekend makes it much easier for me to get two stages done. On Friday night I drove down to Galway City, and we stayed in Oranmore with my sister-in-law, Aideen. 

I’m running around this island today after completing Stage 83 yesterday (Saturday’s run coincided with the Carraroe ‘Darkness into Light’ walk). An early start this morning as I had to drive across four causeways to reach here. My watch says 7.52am as I begin my run from Leitir Meallain Heritage Centre, which is closed today.

Starting at Heritage Centre in Leitir Meallain

At the main crossroads I take a left heading south which eventually leads down to the shore. I then cross over a rocky shoreline to reach a boreen that takes me all the way to the SW corner of Leitir Meallain. Across the sea, I can see Golam Island and its tall Signal Tower.

View towards Golam Head & Golam Island

Only 12km (7.5miles) across to Aran Islands

There is also a clear view of the Aran Islands from here. The western isles are only about 12km across the sea but unfortunately there is no causeway to those islands. It is said that Ireland’s third saint, Colmcille visited Golam Island, and this then became part of a pilgrimage route to the Aran Islands.

I thought I might be able to loop around the western end of Leitir Meallain but there is a ‘no entry’ sign on a farmer gate. Anyway, there are cows and a young calf in the field, so I’m pleased to run back the way I came. 

With Cow and it's young Calf - so probably best not to enter 

I had worn my water-proof jacket as I thought there might be rain on the way but now the weather is warm and sunny. Conveniently, I am able to return to my car to leave my jacket back and drink some water too.

Resuming my run, this time I head north at the crossroads and after about 1km I take a left onto ‘An Crapach’ (Crappagh Island). There is a ‘Private Property’ sign, but it doesn’t actually say ‘No entry’ so I venture slowly across the causeway. I see a few cows ahead and I decide to turn back. This is out of respect for the landowner but also because of my fear of cows (my least favourite animal). I had read on-line about the farmer, Val Folan who runs an organic farm on An Crapach. I like the way he called this whole area an ‘archipelago of islands’ – a perfect word and I think I’ll steal it from him!

Entrance to An Crapach Island

Causeway to Oilean na Crapach

I also heard that the McDonagh Clan once owned Crapach Island and a branch of the family later moved to Galway City to set up Thomas McDonagh & Sons. Also, the parents of Oscar-nominated film director, Martin McDonagh come from this area.

Further west I can see the islands of Fraochoilean Beag and Fraochoilean Mor but there are no causeways to these islands.

From ‘An Crapach’ I retrace my steps and head further north and cross a short causeway to Foirnis (Furnace) island. I have just realised to reach Foirnis from Beal an Daingin you need to cross five causeways! The road goes to the very top of this island and then there is a grassy path that takes me onto a beach with very soft sand. I am now very close to Daighinis (Dinish) Island. Even at low tide, I don’t think you could walk across. However, it does look extremely attractive with a lovely sandy beach visible across the narrow channel.

A loop walk/run - what every runner likes to do 

Soft Sand (not really for 'feet of the runner') on Foirnis Island

The Ferryman of Dinish Island

In 1905, John Millington Synge and Jack B Yeats toured this area as part of an assignment for the Guardian Newspaper, who were supporting relief in the west of Ireland. Yeats drafted an essay about a boatman he met, ‘the Ferryman of Dinish’, whose job was to ferry the schoolmistress to the island. The Ferryman was not very happy with his life and it’s interesting how he describes Dinish as the place ‘the Lord created last’.

"I don't know what way I'm to go on living in this place that the Lord created last. It's often when I sit down and look around on it I do begin cursing and damning and asking myself how poor people can go on executing their religion at all."

I remember when I was in north Mayo on a beautiful July morning I heard a similar comment from an old man, but he spoke with joy and pride. He described his home on the Mullet peninsula as ‘The last place God made’.

Gap between Islands of Foirnis and Dinish 

In 1981 a short film was made about Synge’s and Yeats visit here called ‘To the Western World’. Margy Kinmonth who directed the film even convinced John Huston (Academy Award Winning director) to narrate the film. She repaid him with a Jack Yeats painting ‘Life in the West of Ireland’. Unfortunately, for me, there was no ferryman or woman to take me across to Dinish Island, so I had to retrace my steps and head south again. 

No causeway (or ferryman!) to Dinish Island

On the way back I did take a right turn down to a pier ‘Ceibh nua Fhoirnise’ which is quite close to Inis Eirc Island (Inisherk). Nobody has lived on this island since 1960 but some houses are still quite visible across the sea.

Looking across to Inis Eirc

I leave the pier and run south all the way back to my car at the crossroads. It is still only 9.45am and I’m delighted to have completed the island of Lettermullan. That means I have now done the whole ‘archipelago of islands’ or as it’s locally called, ‘Ceantar na nOilean’.

                Stage 83:

Co. Galway: Beal an Daingain to Casla 

             Saturday 7 May 2023

             39.05 km or 24.26 miles

‘It is ok to feel whatever you’re feeling and to know that it’s temporary’ Danny Quigley reflection on depression and suicide thoughts

Carraroe Peninsula, South Connemara

Cheathru Rua translates as ‘reddish quarter’ referring more to the brown boggy terrain. Not that I noticed much about the colour of the area when I arrived in pitch dark at 4.00am this morning. The reason for my early start was to tie into a ‘Darkness into Light’ annual walk. These walks are organised by Pieta House in Dublin who provide counselling to anyone struggling with suicide or anybody impacted by suicide. There are hundreds of these annual events all over Ireland and they all begin at 4.15am. I was privileged to be able to join the Carraroe Walk.

With Grainne & Jack Lynch and camera shy dog

Sometimes HOPE (Dochas) is all we need 

Early risers at 'Darkness into Light' Walk

Darkness coming into light with Jack Lynch

It was so inspiring to see hundreds of people in this corner of Connemara supporting such a worthy cause. Before we started our walk, a lady gave a short talk, completely in Irish and finishing with ‘An bhfuil sibh reidh?’ Yes, we were all ready to go! On the walk I got chatting to Grainne and Jack Lynch who had come from Moycullen. Afterwards I joined them in the school hall for tea and biscuits.

As dawn was breaking, I began my run, heading north on the main R343 road. Just before I got to Casla (or Costelloe) I took a left turn, onto the R374 towards Beal an Daingin passing the Radio na Gaeltachta building.

Radio na Gaeltachta

In 1972, the Irish language radio station started broadcasting and in 1996, the TV Station, TG4 followed. I am not a great Gaelic speaker, but I enjoy watching TG4 for sport especially and I’m a regular follower of the Irish soap, ‘Ros na Run’. Last year I saw a beautiful program to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of ‘Radio na Gaeltachta’. It explained how the Irish language station helped promote the culture and music in the west of Ireland. I was struck especially by this beautiful haunting song, ‘Amhran na nGael’, written and sung by the talented west Kerry musician, Meabh Ni Bheaglaoich.      

 Cá bhfuil croí, anam, corp is spiorad na nGael? Cá bhfuil an grá, an bród dár gcine fhéin? (Where is the heart, soul, body and spirit of the Gaels? Where is the love, the pride for our own people)

I continue along the R374 road towards Beal an Daingin but I take a left turn back down into the Carraroe peninsula again. 

After another 3km I head west to Rosroe Island (Oilean na Rossa). It is just 7.00am and turning out to be a beautiful day as I cross the bridge over to the island. Such a quiet and peaceful place. From my OS map it looked like there was a trail straight ahead through the island but that just leads into private houses. Instead, I take a right turn, following a coastal boreen north along the edge of the island until that ended at a small pier.

Bridge to Oilean na Rossa

I leave Rosroe Island and head south towards ‘downtown Carraroe’ keeping Loch an Mhuillin on my left. Passing this lake reminds me of a famous painting by the artist, Charles Lamb.

Charles Lamb and Eamon de Buitlear

Charles Lamb was an Ulster man who studied at the Belfast School of Art. He was encouraged to come (and paint) in Connemara by Padraig O’Conaire. Lamb then toured the area on horseback and settled in Carraroe. One of Lamb’s famous paintings depicts a local woman washing clothes in Loch an Mhuillin. The background sky is stormy and the reflection in the water of the cottage is broken up by the woman’s washing. 

Charles Lamb's painting at Loch an Mhuillin

The wildlife film maker, Eamon de Buitlear was Lamb’s son-in-law and a regular visitor to Carraroe. Years ago, I remember watching his regular TV program, ‘Amuigh Faoin Speir’ (Out Under the Sky). Eamon was ahead of his time as regards highlighting nature and environmental issues.

 Looking at my map I knew I could take a right loop, via the coast, just before the main crossroads in the village. I did eventually find this circular road after coming to a few ‘cul de sacs’. It brought me eventually around to the beautiful waters of ‘Loch na Caisleach’ (Strangely anglicised as Loch Natawnymore)  

I sat on a wall here and enjoyed the view over Loch na Caisleach

It was tempting to take a slight inland detour back to the crossroads where I parked my car. I was also wearing a base-layer under my Clifton shirt and could have done without that today. I was hungry and thirsty too. At least I still had some gel and chocolate, so I decided to stay by the coast.

Poitin: I recently enjoyed watching a beautiful Irish language (and Oscar nominated) film ‘An Cailin Ciuin’.  Forty-six years ago, the first ever film, entirely in the Irish language, was called ‘Poitin’. It was made in Carraroe and the director, Bob Quinn still lives here. This part of Connemara always had a tradition of poitin making going back as far as the 1600’s. It was cheap and easy drink to make – all you needed was yeast, sugar and of course potatoes! From 1661 until 1997 it was illegal to produce. Today’s legal version is smoother with ‘only’ 40% alcohol. Originally, poitin was one of the strongest beverages in the world with alcohol content of up to 90%. In the olden days, many wee bottles of the beverage were smuggled to America and England, labelled ‘Holy Water from Knock’.

Caladh Thaidhg (Taidhg's Harbour)

I took the road down to Caladh Thaidhg (called after Taidhg O’ Cathain who owned boats in this area). When I reached Taidhg’s pier I roughed it along the coast as far as Tra an Doilin. Across Greatman’s Bay I can see ‘An Tra Bhain’ where I visited and ran along in March. It was a good decision today to stay by the shore as I got to meet a fellow adventurer from Albany, New York who was cycling around the Irish coast. His name was Brendan and he had been camping overnight. He is also lucky with today’s weather.

The rocks are bigger in Connemara

With Brendan from Albany, New York

At Tra an Doilin I meet two swimmers, and I could see why they come here every day to this beautiful, secluded beach with its clear blue water. The beach is also called An Tra Choirealadh, because of its shiny coral shingles and sand.

Coral strand at Tra Doilin

At this stage I realised that it would be too difficult to stay strictly by the shore, so I took a road inland, Bothar Bui until I came to a crossroads where I headed south along Bothar Rinn to the very bottom of the peninsula, Cora na Ronna.

I was pleasantly surprised to find a coastal path along the southern shore. I figured it must have been an ancient trail from pre-famine days when there were thousands of people living in this area. I come to Tismean beach and later cross a bridge, which looked like a dam. Eventually I meet the boreen at the SE corner of the peninsula, Gob an Phointe.

The wild colours of Connemara

Tismean Strand, south coast of Carraroe 

I follow this boreen, Bothar an Chillin north and take a second turn to the right which brings me down towards the shore. I end up trampling through fields but then I have a moment of celebration when I see in the distance a graveyard. I know this is ‘Tra na Reilige’ (graveyard strand). Just south of the cemetery there is an ancient medieval chapel, Tempeall MacAdhaigh which was constructed by saint Smocan. He came over from the Aran Islands and apparently built the church in just one day! Maybe he also began his work early at 4.15am like I did this morning.

Tempeall MacAdhaigh - built in one day!

Seat at top of cemetery at Tra na Reilige

Tra na Reilige

With Nan and Bill at Tra na Reilige

I run by the shore, passing the graveyard and the beach. When I come to the pier I meet two more swimmers, Nan and Bill. I stop to chat, feeling content that I have nearly completed the loop of the peninsula.

Battle of Carraroe (Cath an Cheathru Rua)

I cannot leave Carraroe without referring to its most historical event. This happened in January 1880, and it refers to a dispute over evictions and land rights. There were  several years of bad harvests. Tenants could not pay their rents and so notices of evictions were pinned to doors. People from around the county rallied to join the Carraroe people, including twelve boats from nearby villages and the Aran Islands. With just sticks and stones, the tenants and their allies defeated a large force of RIC men armed with rifles and bayonets.

This was the first successful attempt to prevent an eviction. The Irish National Land League had only been founded a couple of months previously by Charles Stewart Parnell and Michael Davitt. Davitt wrote that the landlords were “a brood of cormorant vampires that has sucked the life blood out of the country”. Davitt knew what he was talking about, as his own family had been evicted from their home when he was only four years old. The Land League was generally non-violent and used methods of publicity, moral intimidation and boycott against landlords who broke the Land League code. I am proud to say that my own grandfather took part in similar protests in East Galway. He was involved in a ‘Cattle Driving’ campaign and was imprisoned in Galway Gaol, now the site of Galway Cathedral for eleven weeks. (I will talk more about this when I reach, Galway City). All these protests achieved a remarkable degree of success in the west of Ireland. Parnell and Davitt often referred to the ‘Battle of Carraroe’ in their American campaigns. Thankfully by the 1920’s most of the tenant farmers of Ireland had become owners of their farms. The landlord system, which had dominated Ireland for centuries came to an end.

Along Gleann Mor road

Oasis of greenery at Gleann Mor

Anyway, back to today. I leave the harbour and head inland but take a right turn along ‘An Glenn Mor’. Unlike the rest of Carraroe (or anywhere else in south Connemara) this area is a strange oasis of greenery with its trees, bushes and lush pastures. It has also got the highest point in the peninsula, Barr an Doire (88 metres), which still isn’t much of a hill.  

At the harbour at Sruthan I take a left turn back down to the main village. The Eurospar where I left my car is now a hive of activity with a late morning buzz of shoppers. I sit on the boot of my car, enjoying a Coffee and scone - feeling very satisfied with myself.