STAGES 66-67: Co. Mayo: Westport to Louisburgh: 

 

Reflecting in the sun along White Strand/Sand Hills Beach, Co. Mayo 

                        Stage 66

Co. Mayo: Westport to Louisburg (via Croagh Patrick)

                         Thursday 17 March 2022 

                            38.4km or 23.8miles

 

The detour (south) in the middle is a wee climb of Croagh Patrick

‘’Walk with me westward along St. Patricks Trail. Along the pathway of the pagan, the passage of the pilgrim’’ John Corless

I’m delighted to have a few other runners join me over these two days. Donald Smith has travelled down with me all the way from Bangor. Also, Helen Byers and Neill Weir are going to meet us for the Croagh Patrick climb. Helen is of course one of the original coastal runners and has brought along her two children, Holly and James (who have inherited their mother’s determination). Finally, I got a lovely surprise on St. Patrick’s morning when another runner turned up at the hotel. More about him later!  

It’s not a bad St. Patrick’s Day and the forecast is promising for today’s run and our climb up Croagh Patrick. Donald and I stayed at the Westport Woods Hotel last night and this is where we begin today’s adventure. I needed to pop out to my car in the morning and I spotted someone outside that looked like Sean Nickell (original coastal runner). ‘‘Morning Gerry’’, he says. He sounded like Sean Nickell too! I’m dumbfounded and wondering if I’m still asleep and dreaming. Yes, it’s definitely Sean and late last night he made the five-hour journey to get here. He slept overnight in his van (nick-named Bob after he converted it to a camper-van) and now he’s ready to join Donald and me. So, I’ve got the perfect team this morning and I’m looking forward to climbing Croagh Patrick and getting a bird’s eye view of the drumlins of Clew Bay.

Our starting point at Westport Woods Hotel

From the hotel, Donald, Sean and I follow the coast road all along Westport Quay and after about 4k we join the main road, R335. Surprisingly, there’s a strong gale against us until we cross the bridge at Murrisk. At least there’s no rain but I don’t like the look of the sky! 

From Murrisk - on our way to Croagh Patrick with grey sky above

We run down to the pier, do a loop and when we come back to the main road we are almost at the foot of Croagh Patrick, which was originally called Cruchain Aighle (conical mountain). Yes, its unique shape makes the peak stand out for miles around. It is believed that in Year 441 St. Patrick fasted here on the mountain for 40 days.

Helen, Neill, Holly and James are there to meet us at ‘base camp’ and now we have a magnificent team of seven to begin our mountain of adventure.

The Magnificent Seven begin their climb of Croagh Patrick

Traditionally not many people climb the mountain in March. The historical annals for the year 1113 recounts a St Patrick Day Pilgrimage where lightning struck and ‘a ball of fire’ killed 30 people who were fasting on the peak. Instead the last Sunday in July has become ‘Reek Sunday’ when thousands come here, usually in better weather. Yes, maybe it's not such a good idea to take on this task today as we later found out!

With Holly & James under St. Patrick's statue

 Even before we started our climb we could see a lot of cloud at the top. It was quite windy too and just as we began our ascent, the rain came down. I have to admit that I didn’t have the appropriate clothing for this climb; a fact that was pointed out to me later by a bearded member of our own team. We struggled upwards through the rain, wind and then foggy mist at the top. Donald tells us that the temperature drops by one degree for every 150 metre climb so for 764 metres that’s a five degree drop. All in all, it combined for a miserable situation when we reached the chapel at the top. My three layers were soaked through. Sean told me later that I was in the first stage of hyperthermia and I ‘turned a funny colour’. Sean literally peeled my wet clothes off my body as my hands were too cold to even attempt it myself. Meanwhile Neill and Helen somehow had warmer clothes available and Sean dressed me again!

Sean Nickell undressing me at the top of Croagh Patrick

The church at the top was built by local men in 1905 using stone and cement brought up the mountain by donkeys. It would have been nice if the chapel was open today with central heated radiators and a big Aga cooker inside. Instead, we all huddled outside and used the wall of the church as protection from the elements.

At the peak of Croagh Patrick

There are no complaints at all from Helen’s children, Holly (13) and James (11) who must be feeling the cold too. Despite the miserable weather they are both bouncing along and taking it all in their stride. I was delighted for their sake that the weather did pick up later as I knew they were going to tackle Mayo’s beautiful greenway.  

Holly & James enjoying Mayo's greenway later

James and Holly on their bikes!

Back on Croagh Patrick, we didn’t delay at the peak and quickly made our way down. It is tricky on the descent and can be quite dangerous. Once we got down lower I was able to run a little and I did warm up as we got closer to sea-level. Lucky for us, at the foot of the mountain, we found a pub, ‘Campbells at the Reek’, with a roaring fire inside. 

In the pub: What a lovely surprise that Sean came to Mayo 

Helen deserved that pint after climbing Croagh Patrick - zero alcohol of course!

Sean, Donald and I had coffees before we continued our run while Helen and gang enjoyed bowls of soup and were able to delay in the bar for longer. So the three elders leave the pub and run along the R335 and then take a right to Bertra Strand. We run all the way to the end of the long peninsula to Bertra 'island' itself. The island of Inishdaugh is close to us, across a narrow channel and on our right hand side we can see Inisheeny Island.

Running on Bertra strand

No clouds on Croagh Patrick now

Dornish (John Lennon’s Island)  

Further north to our left we can see a long island, Dornish (this island can be easily seen from Croagh Patrick too). Dornish was once two islands, Dornish More and Dornish Beg. Both islands are now joined together by an isthmus or tombolo which is really a long sandbar. (I remember back on Stage 55 I had to run across a sandy tombolo/isthmus to reach Claggan Island).  In 1967, John Lennon saw a newspaper advert ‘island for sale’ and bought Dornish from Westport Harbour Board for £1,550. As his career progressed, Lennon postponed his moving to the small island and lend it to Sid Rawle, known as ‘King of the Hippies’. In 1980 after John’s death, Yoko sold the island for £30,000 and donated proceeds to an Irish Orphanage.

After coming back to Bertra beach, the three of us decide to stay on the shore along Thornhill Strand. Even though the tide is half way out, there is not much of a beach along here and it gets quite rocky at a cliff face just before we reach Lecanvey Pier.

With Donald at Lecanvey Pier

At Lecanvey, we run up the harbour road and join the main R335 again for about 4km and then take a lane (L18282) onto Fallduff Strand which brings us to Old Head Pier. In 2001 I enjoyed a week’s family holiday here with Maureen and our boys. I remember the weather wasn’t great but I climbed Croagh Patrick with my son, Conor (then only eight years old) on 12^th July. The only people we met on the mountain that day were three guys from Belfast. We joked about how it was the perfect place to be walking on the twelfth.

Are you sure this is the right way Sean?

Today the weather is brightening up nicely and Donald, Sean and I are drying out. We run up to the very top of Old Head itself but eventually the rough path gets narrower and precarious as we run along a steep cliff. We decide to come inland and clamber over a few fences and eventually find a country road that takes us all the way into Louisburgh.

Climbing over another fence near Old Head

Louisburgh

The First Marquess of Sligo named the town Louisburgh in memory of his uncle, Captain Henry Browne, who fought on the British side against the French in the battle of Louisburg, Nova Scotia in 1758. Usually, it’s the other way around where American cities are called after Irish or British places. Louisburgh, Co. Mayo was originally called Kilgeever. I think I prefer this name which is now a townland outside Louisburgh. There used to be a pilgrimage ‘station’ at Kilgeever as it was on the route from Croagh Patrick to Caher Island, which makes sense. (See tomorrow’s stage where I write more about Caher Island and its connection to St. Patrick)

 At Louisburgh/Kilgeever, we’re so glad that Neill is there to meet us. He drives us back to Westport. Later, all seven of us arrange to meet in the Towers Restaurant at the Harbour in Westport. I know I’m so privileged to have such great company and we discuss our various exploits of the day and plans for tomorrow. A delicious meal followed by Irish coffees finish off the night perfectly. Sadly, Sean has to leave us. He has a long drive ahead. It was so good of him to join us for today’s run. To see him suddenly appear this morning, was the perfect surprise for me.      

 

            Stage 67

Co. Mayo: Louisburgh to Louisburgh (out by coast and back by country road) 

                    Friday 18 March 2022

                     43km or 26.7miles

 ‘’Will you meet me on Clare Island, Summer stars are in the sky.  Get the ferry out from Roonah and wave all our cares goodbye’’ The Saw Doctors

 

Strictly by the coast on outward journey - return to Louisburgh by country road

Donald and I had the good fortune of meeting some lovely people on today’s journey. It started in Louisburgh when we met Austin O’Malley who was getting ready for his own run. Austin also happened to be a friend of Peter Walsh, the fisherman who we met hours later on White Strand beach.

Later we met Austin's friend, Peter the fisherman, on White Strand Beach. 

Blue sky in Louisburgh as we begin today's run - thanks Austin for taking this.

You might wonder why today’s run is a Louisburgh loop and why I haven’t got any further along the coast. Let me explain. My original plan today was to try to get as far as Leenane, Co. Galway or at least to reach Aasleigh Falls which is on the Mayo-Galway border. As always, I studied the route in detail beforehand. This time I worried about the last part of this section along the north shore of Killary Harbour as you pass Connacht’s highest mountain, Mweelrea (the bald king). There is absolutely no road or trail along this section of the coastline, south of Uggool. I struggled to find much detail about this area but I knew one man who had walked here last year so I spoke to him. His name is Kieran O’Hora and last summer, in memory of his son, he walked the whole coastline of Mayo. I asked Kieran about this section and he said ‘’of the entire walk, this was the most daunting’’. He made a scary comment too about Killary Harbour ''the water is as deep as the mountain is high''

This is Kieran O'Hora tackling the 'daunting' north shore of Killary Harbour

Also, if Donald and I did attempt to cross this section, we would be approaching it in the afternoon after having already completed a long part of the coast. I decided then, that we would not follow the coastal route around Mweelrea but instead, head back along the country road and ‘go around’ the mountain on the east side. Looking at the map I then realised that we would need to run back as far as Killadoon and Killeen to achieve this. As these villages are only four miles south of Louisburgh it made sense to run the whole way back to Louisburgh. Furthermore, it means that on my next stage, I’ll now be able to follow the exact route from Louisburgh to Delphi that some malnourished families took during the Famine in 1849. This is also known as the Doolough tragedy and I’ll detail it in my next stage.   

The signs are telling us that we're getting close to America

 We leave Louisburgh taking a right turn after we cross the Bunowen River. We follow this country road through Ashkillaun. Just before we get to Roonah Pier we get talking to a young lady, Kara Connolly, who's mother comes from Bangor, Co. Down.

Thumbs up from Kara with Croagh Patrick behind

We run down to the pier itself and there is boat just heading out to Clare Island. We’re tempted to jump on it! Clare Island is by far the biggest island in Clew Bay and acts like a protector or guard of the bay by where it’s situated. It’s probably why the famous Pirate Queen, Grainne O’Malley (or Grainneuaile) made it her home. Literally, nothing coming into Mayo could get past her! 

Ferry heading out from Roonah to Clare Island

Donald and I decide to try to stay on the coast at Roonah. We knew from the map that it was going to be rough going until we reached Carrowniskey Strand (translated strangely as 'quarter of the water'). The beach is called Sruhir on the OS map. It was quite achievable to run along here, especially as it is low tide at 12.00 noon. There was a beautiful full moon last night which caused a very strong low tide which meant we had lots of sand to run on today.

On Carrowniskey Beach we can clearly see the island of Caher and behind it is Mayo's Inishturk. There are three Inishturk islands! Off the coast of Connemara is the Galway Inishturk and if you remember I referred to Inishturk Beg (the posh island!) in Clew Bay back in February.

Donald pointing out 'Caher na Naomh' Island

Caher Island

Caher is correctly called ‘Cathair na Naomh’ (City of the Saints) and the island supported a small community of monks back in the seventh and eighth centuries. Even today there is a pilgrimage on the Feast of the Assumption (15 August). A Christian route was discovered by archaeologists recently which dates back over a 1,000 years. The island is uninhabited since 1838 and one of the few islands abandoned even before the famine. St. Patrick is said to have visited the island after he had been to nearby Croagh Patrick and it is alleged that the famous saint is buried here on Caher Island. (The people at Downpatrick Cathedral might argue about that one!)  For years, passing sailors were said to dip their sails on passing the island. They had great respect for Patrick and referred to him as “Phadraig miorbhuilteach” St Patrick the wonder-worker.  

Near Burlough Strand

Donald says we look like a Boy-Band in this picture

Donald and I feel we're in the coastal wilderness on such a beautiful day so it’s strange, but nice, when we meet a young couple, Aoife and Andrew. 

With Aoife and Andrew

We stop to chat with them and then continue on to the next beautiful beach, Burlough Strand. We run along a short coastal road at Devlin and shortly see a ‘Private Property’ sign. We decide to quickly pop over a fence and get around the farm. We know it’s the lambing season so we try not disturb the sheep too much.

Finally, we arrive on a long beach called White Strand (or on the OS map, Sand Hills). We have a well-deserved break here sitting on a big rock on the beach and eating some chocolate. We meet another couple here out walking. They are the Fitzgeralds from Athenry in Co. Galway. We tell them our story and they kindly give a very generous donation towards Clifton School. Thank you Angela & John. 

With Angela & John on White Strand Beach

We carry on running along the long strand with a strong south wind in our faces. Soon we spot a man fishing on the beach and we can see that there’s something at the end of his line. 

Two Scotsmen on White Strand

We stop to see what he’s caught (just a wee flat turbot which he throws back into the sea). This is Peter the fisherman and Donald is pleased to meet a fellow Scotsman. Peter tells us about about a nearby townland called Doirín na nAlbanach, ‘the little thicket of the Scotsmen’ . Peter explains how Scottish shepherds were brought over in the 1860's by a lady called Matilda Houston. Mrs Houston describes life in west Mayo in her book ''Twenty years in the Wild West''. 

My reflection on White Strand 

 

Donald took some very clever pictures today

Donald drying his feet after crossing another stream

Leaving White Strand

As part of our own 'wild west' run, Donald and I have one more beach ahead of us. However, we have to cross a few miles of fields before we reach it. 

Heading towards Silver Strand

We can see the beautiful Silver Strand in the distance. (It’s called Trawleckachoolia and Carrickwee on the OS map). This secluded beach lived up to its name and was well worth the trek. The writer, Thackeray was equally impressed when he wrote to his mother after visiting this area.

''the most beautiful thing I have seen anywhere in Europe''

Donald and I sit and enjoy the moment. After a while we investigate if we can go further south along the coast towards the 'Lost valley of Uggool' but there’s a sign here that says, ‘Preserved Area – No entry’. I’m not too disappointed as I’m hoping to come back with Maureen and Brian to do the official tour of the lost valley. Donald and I are reluctant to leave this beautiful beach on such a lovely day but at least we know we’ll have the wind behind us on the way back. 

The end of the coast - no access to the Lost Valley of Uggool 

So we take to the country road and head north back towards Louisburgh. Not much to report on our return inland journey but we are feeling the effect of two days marathon running. When we get to Killadoon we decide to walk a little. A car stops and the friendly driver offers us a lift. Of course we refuse. I should emphasise to the CAC (Coastal Audit Committee) that at no stage on this epic run have I ever accepted a lift from any individual in any type of moving apparatus! We start running again. Luckily for me, my ankle sprain I referred to in February, has cleared up but I now feel a slight neck and shoulder pain. I always say that runners are always only one step away from an injury! We are so glad to arrive at Louisburgh. Later in the evening Donald and I enjoy another delicious meal, followed by a brief visit to Matt Molloy’s pub in Westport and a night-cap in the hotel bar. 

There’s a final reunion on the following morning (Saturday) with Helen and gang at Achill’s parkrun. Holly and James are still full of energy as they sprint along the greenway. Such a lovely few days on the Mayo coast with the perfect company. The adventure continues.     

Stage 67: Revisited: Friday 3 June 2022: Uggool, The Lost Valley

I had originally planned to run along the southern shore of Killary Harbour and if you remember I mentioned in my opening paragraph of Stage 67 how I spoke to Kieran O’ Hora who did walk along this section. Kieran explained how difficult and dangerous it was. I did discover though that in 1971, seventy-four people walked along here (from Thallabawn to Bundorragha), At the time there was talk of building a road along here and there were even plans drawn up in 1968 by Mayo Co. Council. Their 1971 walk was like a campaign to promote the new road. However, they also encountered difficulties around the cliffs. 

Gerard Bourke giving his talk on Uggool Beach 

However, today I was able to revisit this area with Maureen and Brian with an added bonus of getting a local guide to talk about the history of the area. Tours are given by Gerard Bourke, son of the late Michael who was on the 1971 walk and we were privileged to walk on a ‘green road’ that brought us all the way from their house at Silver Strand through their farm at Uggool, now known as The Lost Valley. The tour brought us as far as Killary Harbour, back down to Uggool beach and ends in the cottage from which Gerard’s great-great-great grandfather, Pat Burke, was evicted in 1851. 

Following the 'green road' in Uggool

What an interesting and educational experience it was. I have heard a lot and read a lot about the Irish Famine, but nothing has ever brought me so close to the ‘Great Hunger’ and how people suffered during those terrible years. Gerard’s knowledge and humour impressed and charmed everyone on the tour. Gerard’s wife is also called Maureen and she supplied tea and biscuits afterwards in what was the old family home, overlooking the magnificent Uggool beach. 

Brian at Killary Harbour

I have to admit though I was disappointed originally, not to be allowed run along this beach back in March. The Bourkes have a strictly private property policy on their land. It’s a pity that there isn’t public access as I can’t imagine too many people would ramble along in this area. In any case I think I would have been foolish to try to run (or even walk) along the southern shore of Killary harbour. At least today I was able to get a big closer to Inishbarna Island which I had glimpsed from the other side at Rosroe Harbour.

Killary Harbour with Inishbarna Island behind

STAGES 63-65: Co. Mayo: Mullranny to Westport (around coast of Clew Bay)

‘’I am Raftery the poet full of hope and love with eyes that have no light, with silence unmoved. Going west on my journey by the light of my heart.’’ Anthony Raftery (the blind poet 1784-1835)

                Stage 63

            Co. Mayo: Mulranny to Newport

                    Tuesday 15 February 202

                      28.64km or 17.8miles

 

View south from Inishnakillew Island in Clew Bay

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to restart my coastal run in February. Yes I know it is officially the start of the Irish Spring but there were three official storms this week, named alphabetically as Dudley, Eunice and Franklin. Luckily for me, Storm Dudley did not live up to expectations and I was able to squeeze in my three runs before Eunice and Franklin arrived. It took me 58km to cover the coastal route from Mullranny to Westport which is only 29k by road.

It is exactly five years since I started this crazy adventure and now I’ve reached beautiful Mullranny, in west Mayo. Like the poet Raftery I am ‘’going west on my journey by the light of my heart’’. However, there were times over the last few weeks when I wondered if I would be running at all this month.

The problem was self-inflicted and ended my long spell of injury-free running. Last summer and autumn I’d tackled some of Mayo’s roughest terrain, trampling through bogland, climbing through barb-wire fences and struggling along rocky shorelines. I always prided myself in having good balance and strong feet. I was never afraid of roughing it and the tougher the trail, the better. 

Then much nearer home, one Sunday morning in late November my complacency came to end when I turned on my foot and sprained my ankle. It even happened on one of my favourite trails to Helens Tower (with my favourite Sunday Morning Group) and not far from where I live in Bangor, Co. Down. I really should blame the late Lord Dufferin for my accident. He, not only built Helen’s Tower (in memory of his mother, Lady Helen) but also, instigated this 8k long trail through the forest that links Helens Tower to Helens Bay Railway Station. The Dufferin family even had their own private entrance and waiting room at the station. Lord Dufferin convinced one of his poet friends, another titled aristocrat, Lord Tennyson to write a poem about Helen’s Tower. The poet, Tennyson’s dedication to the tower began ‘Here I stand, dominant over sea and land’. Anyway, on the morning of my accident in the forest, I struggled home from Helen’s Tower feeling sorry for myself. ‘’Here I stood, hobbling through the lonely wood’’. My ankle grew bigger and bigger and later I had to reluctantly accept the fact that I needed a few weeks of complete rest. I then paid a visit to Debbie Matchet at PhysioWorksNI who recommended lots of strengthening exercises and stretching my foot with an ISO band.

So, today I’m not sure how far I can run and I’m being more cautious than usual after my injury. Furthermore Maureen, Brian and I recently contacted Covid and so we had to postpone this trip for a few days. We’re finally here. It’s not about the miles this week as I try to find my way along the Clew Bay shore.

Start of Stage 63 at Rosmore Point

For practical reasons I’ve decided to do today’s run it in reverse order, clockwise with the sea on my left for a change. I’m beginning today’s journey just west of Newport and finishing in Mullranny where Maureen, Brian and I are booked into an Air B&B. I’m starting my run at the end of a long peninsula/island (just west of Newport) that stretches out into Clew Bay at Rossmore Point. I could have made everything much easier for myself if I’d taken the Newport-Mullranny Greenway which follows the old railway line. Instead, I’ve decided that I’m going to stick as close to the coast as possible over the next few days, maybe even visit a few islands along the way. You could argue that where I’m starting today at Rosmore is an island, as there is a small bridge that connects Rosmore Point to the mainland. So here I am, right in the middle of Clew Bay. Maureen and Brian have driven down this narrow, bumpy road to the very edge of the peninsula with barely enough room to turn around the car without it falling into the sea.

So, as I stand at Rosmore Point I can see the island of Inishdaweel right in front of me. In the distance and in all directions lots of other islands are peeping out over the sea. The best view of the Clew Bay drumlins is from Croagh Patrick. Even if you only climb half-way up the mountain you can see the beautiful sight of the islands spread out over the bay. I counted only about 60 or 70 from the Ordnance survey maps, not 365 as is commonly quoted. These drumlins are really the result of sea levels falling after the last ice age around 10,000 years ago. I remember seeing the same type of ‘drowned drumlins’ in Strangford Lough when I completed the early stages of my coastal run. 

Leaving Rosmore peninsula it takes me 3km to come back to the main road. I then I decide to run north with Lough Furnace on my left. I knew this route was not really by the coast, but I thought it would be more interesting to do a circular loop around the lake. After all, Newport is often called Newport Furnace. The lough itself is unique because it consists of a lower layer of salt water and an upper layer of lighter fresh water. Furnace Lough is the only lake of its type in Ireland or Britain. I make my way along the old Bangor Trail which is an ancient droving route heading north through the Nephin Beg Mountain range which eventually reaches Bangor Erris. However, I don’t run very far along the trail, and I take the ‘Furnace Loop’ which circles the lake before heading south again. I do catch a glimpse of Lough Fioch and the Nephin Mountains in the distance. The highest point that can be seen in this area is Corranabinna which towers 714 metres, just 50 metres shorter than Croagh Patrick, but this mountain isn’t even named on the Ordnance Survey map. Over the next few days these hills are covered in snow but today the rain is coming down and it’s gradually seeping through all my layers.   

Maureen & Brian at Burrishoole Abbey, west of Newport

     My diversion around Lough Furnace means that I don’t pass Burrishoole Abbey, but I do come back later with Maureen and Brian to visit the impressive site and the old building. The Dominican Friars founded the Abbey in 1470 but they almost got excommunicated from the church because they didn’t get permission from the Pope for its construction!

After running around Furnace Lough, I continue along the main A59 road – not a great idea on such a wet day. I’m trying to find a quieter road, so I take a left turn, signposted Ardagh, but soon realise it’s a dead end and I have to come back up onto the A59 again. If it wasn’t such a miserable day I might have persevered along some country coastal roads but in the end I decided it was best to head inland towards the Greenway. I saw a sign on the A59 (at Derrycooldrim) ‘Greenway Lane Studio’ and figured correctly that this would take me inland onto the Greenway. Despite the miserable rain, I did feel better running along the old railway line. However, keeping my hands warm was proving difficult. In any case, with such damp weather, I don’t think gloves would have helped today. I’m wondering after having just had Covid whether I’m crazy to be running in this rain and if I’m in danger of catching pneumonia. At least I have a traffic free run for the last 12k, and the Greenway takes me all the way to the Mullranny Park Hotel. Interestingly, the hotel is still owed by the Brown family who are direct descendants of the 16^th century pirate Queen, Grace O’Malley. I just make it back to Mullranny before it gets dark, soaked to the skin at this stage. Maureen helped me to eventually thaw out by a warm radiator. A hot shower later brought me back to life!     

Soaked to the skin but nice view to look forward to tomorrow

In the morning from our Airbnb we were able to admire Mullranny beach and look across to Croagh Patrick on the other side of Clew Bay. On Friday, Maureen, Brian and I did take a short walk down to the shore and I even ran out past the golf course along the peninsula. I could see Moynish More Island close by, but I didn’t spot any Barnacle Geese who holiday in this area every year. Amazing to think that these birds fly over 5,000 km from Canadian every year to enjoy our mild Irish winters. However, with all the storms looming this week, even the geese are keeping a low profile.

                             Stage 64

Co. Mayo: Newport to Rosmoney Pier

Wednesday 16 Feb 2022

 15.51km or 9.63miles

 

‘’The day dawns with scent of must and rain, 
of opened soil, dark trees’’ Mirror in February by Thomas Kinsella,

At Rosmoney Pier

Just like yesterday, I’m running clockwise with the sea on my left. This is for practical reasons again as it’s easier for Maureen to meet me in Newport. It has its advantages today as I’ve got the wind behind me. I’m at Rosmoney Pier about 5k west of the main road, the A59. Maureen and Brian have driven me here and we pause at Rosmoney Harbour to look at a fine selection of yachts and other nautical crafts. We spot a miniature ‘lighthouse’ at the end of the pier and a plaque with a poem called ‘Echoes at Rosmoney’ by Ger Reidy. I read later that Ger wrote this in honour of his friend, Tommy Gibbons who tragically lost his life here at Rosmoney. Tommy was a postman/fisherman who lived in nearby Inishlyre Island.

‘’You knew the whine of the wind at the point. The roar of the swell before a storm. These words now echo from island to island’’

We’re looking across towards Collan More which is the biggest island in Clew Bay, except for Clare Island. I was hoping to run across to Collan More from a point further north from here but more about that attempt tomorrow! Today I leave Rosmoney Pier and follow the bike marker signs back towards Newport. On the OS map its marked ‘cycle hub route’ and makes today’s run very easy for me. Despite the forecast of heavy rain, it’s very pleasant and the sun even makes the odd appearance. Around the corner I spot Croagh Patrick in the distance. I can see the famous cone-shaped mountain and I’m thinking of the lines from the Saw Doctors song ‘from its rolling coastal waters, I can see Croagh Patrick’s peak’

With Croagh Patrick behind

I struggled in the gale force wind to take this!

As a gale force wind picks up, I pass another one of Grace O’Malley (or Grainuaile) castles. Grainne was known as the pirate queen, and I often imagine her to be similar to the beautiful Daenerys (the mother of dragons) in Game of Thrones

The cycle markers bring me pass Kilmeena GAA Club (All Ireland Junior Club Champions in 2021) and all the way back to the main A59 road. Its only 5km to Newport and I’m able to follow the Greenway to todays finish point.

Looks like local Kilmeena GAA club encourages walkers

 I make sure to cross over the majestic old railway bridge in Newport. The magnificent seven arch bridge was built in 1896 but by 1937 the trains stopped running as it was economically no longer viable to operate the railway. Maureen and Brian are there to meet me in Newport.

 

Old Railway Bridge in Newport

Newport Furnace-Pratt or Ballyveaghan

I said earlier that this town is sometimes called Newport Furnace after the nearby lake (I ran around it yesterday). Previously the town was called Newport Pratt after Captain Pratt introduced linen manufacturing in 1719. The linen weavers were part of a Quaker settlement in the area. Newport was originally called Ballyveaghan. 

In 1976 Grace Kelly, the famous actress and princess, purchased her old family ancestral home in Drimurla, just outside Newport. She had planned to return to renovate it and perhaps live in it, but she had a fatal car accident in 1982. A wreath of wildflowers from Drimurla were sent by local people to Monaco for the funeral of the princess.  

From from old railway bridge in Newport

 

                                     

                    Stage 65

Co. Mayo: Rosmoney/Inishcottle to Westport

                Wednesday 17 Feb 2022

                    14.53km or 9.03miles

There was a lot of walking today (rather than running) with Maureen and Brian joining me. I knew that low tide was at about noon and my ambition was to try to walk (or run) across to the island of Collan More. After reading various on-line comments from ‘island hoppers’ this seemed to be possible. So, Maureen, Brian and I headed west again to find the best access point to Collan More. However, we got a little lost on the narrow country lanes and somehow ended up instead at the islands of Inishnakillew and Inishcottle. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise. When we reached Inishnakillew island we climbed up a narrow hill and had a magical experience right in the middle of Clew Bay. From the top of this hill, we had circular views of beautiful drumlins all around the bay. 

View of drumlins from top of hill on Inishnakillew Island

Brian & Maureen on top of Inishnakillew Island

The weather (before tomorrow’s Storm Eunice) was calm. I almost feel, like keeping this location a secret! I would know exactly how to find it again, but I suppose I owe a debt to my ‘many readers’, so here’s how to find this magical spot.  About 5k south of Newport, take the sign for Kilmeena. Then drive by the GAA club and follow the cycle signs. After about 1.5km and after you pass the Post Office you come to Ardkeen. Follow the sign, right for ‘Seapoint House’ and this narrow coastal boreen will take you all the way to Inishnakillew (island of the wood). It’s probably best to park your car, either before the slipway to the island or drive across the slipway and leave your car on the island itself. Then just walk up the hill and pause at the top for the most magnificent panoramic views over Clew Bay. Maybe today was the calm before the storm because all these wee drumlins just sat there in front of us. We knew we were privileged to have a beautiful sight on such a perfect day.     

Inishturk Beg: As you’re walking up to the top of the hill on Inishnakillew island you’ll spot Inishturk Beg on the right. A famous Irish-Egyptian businessman called Nadim Sadek bought the island for £1million in 2003. Apparently he just snapped it up before other interested parties, like Ronan Keating, Bono and Bill Gates outbid him. Mr. Sadek spent a few more millions on the islands properties, roads and sewage systems but sold the island in 2013 for 4 million euro. From the top of the hill here on Inishnakillew we have the perfect view of Inishturk Beg which is probably the most glamorous and poshest island in Clew Bay.

Inishturk Beg: View from Inishnakillew

Maureen and Brian returned to the car but I decided to run down the very steep hill and visit the island of Inishcottle. There was a small pier here, but the slipway just seemed to lead to a private house. I wondered about running around the island but even at low tide it was quite rocky, so I just turned around and ran back up the hill and again through Inishnakillew where I was united back at our car, with Maureen and Brian.     

As we were in an ‘island hopping’ mood, the next challenge was to try to find Collan More (formerly Holly Island). We got back in the car again and followed the cycle signs again. After a while we took a right turn and drove down a narrow and very bumpy boreen, with lots of potholes. Not very good for the car suspension but at least it was a short drive to the coast. We got talking to a local man here who didn’t think we could get across and back to the island as the tide was now turning. In fairness it is a good mile across and there isn’t a proper causeway to reach it. I ran along the shore for a while but basically took his advice and didn’t venture across to the island.  

It’s still a pleasant day here looking across to Collan More. In 1841, before the famine there were 218 people living on the island, now there are only two inhabitants. This big island is almost enclosed by a series of seven islands that all seem to be loosely joined together so anti-clockwise from the north there is Clynish which joins with Knocky Cahillaun and Fleaghillan and those islands join with Dernish which connects with Island More, Rabbit Island and Inishgort (with its working lighthouse on the western side).

Just west of Collan More is the wreck of a steamship, Charles Stewart Parnell. I’m not sure if I believe the story about the lobster that’s still trapped in its boiler on the boat. Apparently it grew too big to escape! All these islands surrounding Collan More make it a beautiful protected and secluded spot. It was up for sale at £500k which seems a bargain compared to the much smaller Inishturk Beg (see earlier) which was going for £4 million. 

Back in Rosmoney Pier again with Collan More behind

So, I abandon my attempt to get to Collan More and we drive south towards Rosmoney Pier. Remember I had already run along this stretch yesterday so there was no point in doing it again. Maureen, Brian and I decide to have an ‘indoor picnic’ at the pier before I tackle my final stage to Westport. The sky is darkening now and sure enough the heavens open as I begin by run. 

With the rain coming down and the tide coming in, I also discard my idea of trying to run across to two other islands south of Rosmoney Pier. Crovinish (or Garlic Island) still had sixteen people living on the island in 1911 and in the 1960’s a Dutch Artist, Ron Rooyman lived on the island for a few years, but now I believe it’s uninhabited. Nearby Illanataggart (Priest’s Island) is also currently uninhabited although in 1841 there were 33 persons living there.

I follow the country road east towards Westport. At least I have the wind behind me now and the rain is easing off too. Near here at Pigeon Point in 1894, a vessel carrying Achill Island ‘tatie hokers’ – migrant harvesters bound for Scotland – overturned when all the young passengers rushed to one side of their boat to see a Glasgow-bound steamer. The boat capsized and thirty-two people were drowned.

Final destination this week 

I pass the golf course just outside Westport and eventually make my way through the centre. It’s strange running through a busy town after my lonely exploits around Clew Bay. I climb the hill towards the coastal road and soon arrive at the Westport Woods Hotel where Maureen and Brian are there to greet me. Hot soup and sandwiches are just what the doctor ordered. I’m booked into this hotel in March and will start my next coastal run from here on St. Patricks Day. The plan is to reach the top of Croagh Patrick on 17 March. Let us hope all the snow has melted away by then.   

Brian pointing towards Croagh Patrick