A week in Achill

This year, we spent a short June vacation in the island of Achill, Co. Mayo. It is a long drive from Cork: some 380km (230 miles), or 6 hours driving on roads of varying quality. The journey took us through the cities and towns of Limerick, Ennis, Galway, Ballinrobe, Castlebar and finally to our destination: the village of Keel. The children, even the small ones, bore the journey with admirable patience. I'm not sure I was so forebearing when I was the same age.

Keel

Keel is one of the largest villages on the island, if "village" is the correct word. In reality it is a linear strip of holiday homes, with a grocery, a pub, a hotel and a butcher's shop acting as a notional focus for the place. The real attraction of Keel is a hundred metres away - a 4km stretch of white sandy beach to rival any in Ireland. The beach is one of the best surfing beaches in the country, although a large section of it is out of bounds to surfers due to dangerous rip-tides. The water is clear and the waves can be impressive. My children took to the place with gusto, with my energetic eldest son sprinting through the water and not registering the slightest complaint even when his skin went blue with the cold!

To the left of the beach, as you are looking out to sea, is one of the most splendid back-drops in the country - the Minaun cliffs. These cliffs rise gradually to around three hundred metres above sea level, huge sea-facing gashes in the mountainside. There is something catastrophic about their formation: as if large sections came away quite suddenly in days long past. On one of the days there, I was able to walk along the beach to the start of the cliffs. I found a sad little gravesite there, with just one headstone. Up to only a few decades ago, stillborn babies were not buried in normal graveyards, as they were un-baptised, and therefore ineligible to be buried in 'consecrated' ground. Judging by how well this gravesite is tended, the trauma of those years clearly echoes today.

The pub in Keel is a strange one. It is laid out in IRA memorabilia from end to end - not quite what I was expecting in one of the upcoming tourist resorts in the country. There were posters for the Columbia Three, collection boxes for Sinn Féin, signed photographs of Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness, and an intriguing poster on the staff door with the simple message "What you hear or see here, LEAVE HERE". Looking out through the window at the brooding mountains in the distance with their radio antennae, I could not help it but be reminded of West Belfast. Still though, the staff was friendly and the beer was fine, not that there was much of a choice anyway - what other small village in Ireland has just one pub? Not many, not many at all!

The Deserted Village

Not far from Keel, on the slopes of Slievemore, is the Deserted Village. This is an extrordinary place which takes you back to a time when life was much harsher than the present day. An estimated 70 dwelling houses, now in ruins, form a line across the mountain side. They are built of rough stone, many houses are merely the size of most people's living rooms and some have no windows. The fields around the place still show signs of "lazy bed" cultivation - big undulating ridges suitable for the growing of potatos. These field patterns are still noticeable in many places around the island. It's not difficult here to be reminded of the 1847 Great Famine, where an estimated 1 million people died over a period of 4 years. Such places must have been quite common all across the country, but are now long gone. This relic of past deprivations should continue to be protected for the sake of future generations.

Eastern Achill

Achill is Ireland's largest island, around 147 sq kilometres, or twice the size of Manhattan Island (but with far fewer taxis). The eastern end of the island is divided from the mainland by a narrow channel, but there is a short road-bridge to the mainland in the village of Achill itself. The landscape around the village itself is a study in garden management gone wrong. The plant-life has more to do with tropical jungle than with bogland: huge patches of Gunnera (a giant rhubarb-like plant), New Zealand Flax and, most prevalent of all, the impenetrable Rhododendron, which was in flower when we were there. Whole hillsides are covered in it. These plants love the acid soils of Ireland's west coast, but care little for the incumbents: the rushes, heathers, tormentils and sundews. The advance of the foreign plants into the island shows few signs of abating, at least on the calmer eastern side.

The north east of the Island is relatively flat and boggy. Close to the village of Dugort, there are a number of calm sandy beaches and lakes. This part of the island looks out on the mountains and vast bogland of Northern Mayo. Slievemore forms an impressive backdrop to the area. A movie, I think it's called "The Secret Cave", is being filmed there at the moment.

Keem Bay

One of the "must see" sights in Achill is Keem Bay, at the far west of the island. This little cove, nesting between Achill Head and the slopes of Croaghan, has wonderful views of the island. It is also a very safe beach for children. The road to the beach, high on the slopes of Croaghan, is stunning. On a clear day you could easily imagine yourself on a Greek island, with amazing views of Minaun, Clare Island, Clew Bay, Inisturk, Croagh Patrick, Mweelrea and the Twelve Pins in Connemara easily visible in the far distance.

I took a short but intense climb up from the beach to Benmore Head. It was worth every bit of the effort. At the top is an unforgettable view - sheer cliffs leading westwards to the narrow outcrop of Achill Head, the most westerly part of the island. Closeby were some of the highest cliffs in Europe: almost seven hundred metres high, however I did not get to see them this time.

I went snorkelling in the bay, and although I didn't see anything particularly of note, there were quite a few small fish to be seen flitting past the oar-weed and the barnacle covered rocks. As we were leaving, I spotted a seal swimming in the bay.

The Atlantic Drive

A coast-hugging road winds its way around the southern part of the island. This road passes through the small hamlet of Dooega, and then leads you on to some spectacular views particularly in the viscinity of Ashleam bay. On a viewing area just south of the bay, we were met by extraordinary onshore winds, easily gusting 80kph at times. Continuing the journey, we passed close by Achillbeg island (deserted in the 1960s due to the slow drip-drip of chronic emigration from this region), and then not far away, an intact towerhouse formerly belonging to the 17th century pirate queen, Grace O'Malley or Gráinuaile. The clever setting of the castle would have given her good views of shipping in Clew Bay. The castle is now beside the local lifeboat station with their bright orange boats ready to take to sea at a moment's notice.

So that was Achill: barren in places, wild at times, but always picturesque. It's a place to get away from it all. Indeed, I have rarely felt so de-stressed after a mere week on holidays. It's a place to see and hear wild creatures that now only hug our most remote and barren shores. Finally, it's a place to understand what life was like for generations long past. Their ghosts are more in evidence than anywhere else in the country.

A ruin in the deserted village

Blue boat, Kildavnet