Earlier in the year I completed a tour which took in the majority of the Donegal coastline from near Killybegs through Glencolumbkille to Letterkenny via Dungloe, Bloody Foreland, Gortahork, Dunfanaghy, Carrigart, Portsalon, Rathmullan, Ramelton and finally Letterkenny before completing the journey back home. I enjoyed it immensely and it has always been my ambition to complete the entire route although I will be doing it in different parts as I just don’t have the time to complete it all at once as the entire route is around 1,500 miles and I consider 50 or 60 adequate for a day’s touring. Any more and it becomes rushed and tiring and you don’t have time to take in your surroundings. As this is a coastal route facing the full might of the Atlantic, it is often difficult going too with sometimes strong headwinds and routes which are very hilly in places.

I planned a part two recently, over seven days, the first day to travel from home to Donegal Town which was to be my starting point for the coastal part, day two would take me along the coast via Bundoran to Strandhill in Co. Sligo, I like Strandhill so planned to spend an extra day there and then cycle along the Sligo coastline to cross the Mayo border and spend a night in Ballina. Day four would take to Belmullet on the Western Mayo coast, day five would take me to Achill Island, and day six would take me to Westport and day 7 would take me home again (hopefully!) on the bus.

Owing to the time of year and the busy tourist period, booking accommodation was potentially going to be tricky so I had planned this well in advance. I generally avoid travelling in the tourist period but wanted a lot of daylight, decent weather and from next month onwards, some hostels start to close for the winter so I was doing it over the August bank holiday weekend.

I had accommodation, the bike and the gear, now I just needed weather. Forecasts were not very promising and the Thursday I was due to set off dawned with a torrential downpour. It did show signs of brightening up though and I didn’t need am early start so waited it out and set off in the early afternoon and the rain was by now just a very light drizzle which rapidly cleared to leave generally dry evening with just occasional showers.

The signposted route for Donegal Town would have taken me on to the ridiculously busy N15 and through Bearnas Mór in the Bluestack Mountains. This is actually a very beautiful place, the name literally translates as “Big Gap” and it a deep valley formed during the ice age and has many streams and Lough Mourne which is used as a public drinking water supply and you can also trace the route of the old County Donegal Railways Stranorlar to Ballyshannon railway line as much of the track bed and the engineering structures remain. The final train ran in December 1959. This must surely have been one of the most scenic rail journeys in the entire country and I remain hopeful that some day this will be converted into a cycle route. There is also a famous famous pub called Biddy’s in this very remote part of Donegal. Cycling through Bearnas Mór would have drastically reduced my journey time and definitely has appeal as I don’t believe the true beauty of the Gap can be appreciated from a car but I decided against it as I don’t like doing battle with high speed traffic on a major National Primary Route on my bike. Other people I know who have cycled it say it is also usually extremely windy as the windy as the wind is funnelled through the gap in the mountains.

With careful map studying, I plotted a route to avoid it which isn’t actually that easy to do. It would take me into County Tyrone via Killeter, along the River Derg, back across the border into Donegal again and around Lough Derg, into Pettigo, Laghey and then Donegal Town along the old road. I cycled to Killeter via minor roads and ended up taking shelter there in the bus shelter while passing through the village as there was another very heavy shower. It’s only a small village, probably most famous for the August Fair held every year but there are the ruins of an old church and a holy well and other things near by. I had options from Killeter, I could have gone to Edenderry but the double chevrons on this road on my map made me go straight for Lough Derg. I still had a lot of ground to cover, the weather wasn’t great and I wasn’t in the mood for difficult climbing.

The road from Killeter to Lough Derg was new to me but surely must rate was as one of the best cycling roads in the country. It is a bit remote and I rarely seen a car and it offers some nice views through forests and of the River Derg and also you pass very close to a windfarm. I know they’re controversial but it’s interesting to see one close up.

I crossed the border again and Lough Derg eventually hovered into view, shrouded in mist. I had never been to Lough Derg before either. There are numerous small islands on the lake and St. Patrick is known to have come here and spend time in solitude. It has been a destination for pilgrims ever since. It is supposed to be a time of penance so I was surprised to find the whole pilgrim thing is a very well developed industry with a nice visitors centre and there are some very impressive looking buildings to be seen on St. Patrick’s island itself. A motorboat takes the pilgrims across the short stretch of water. Lough Derg is very shallow which makes it dangerous in a boat in rough weather.

In a shed near the visitors centre you can see a wooden boat named Saint Patrick II. It was built on the Lough shore by a Killybegs based boat builder in 1923 and is licenced to carry 150 passengers. It requires 8 men to row it and is thought to be the biggest rowing boat ever constructed in Ireland. It was used regularly  until 1988 when it was replaced with a motorboat.

My next destination was to be the town of Pettigo. I had been here once when I was young in the late 1980s. It’s interesting in that the town itself is partly in Donegal, partly in Tyrone so the Northern Ireland border divides the town at the river. The border checkpoints that I remember on my previous visit are thankfully a dim and distant memory now. Pettigo was once a thriving market town but suffered badly as a result of the partition of Ireland in 1922 and also from the closure of the Bundoran to Enniskillen railway line in the 1950s. During the troubles, the British Army closed many of the small roads which crossed the border which further cut the village off from it’s traditional trading areas and community. It does benefit from being close to Lough Derg and all the pilgrims and visitors which come there.

The ride into Laghey is about 14 miles along the R232 which was busier than I had expected it to be. It is a very nice route though and passes many small lakes such as Lough Nadarragh, Lough Natragh, Lough Asmuttan – too many to list really. Laghey isn’t a particularly exciting town, the most notable features being the very nice stone seven arched bridge and the now-famous signpost in the town centre which says that Laghey is 1KM away! I was pleased to find a public drinking water tap along the main street so I could refill my water bottle. I mentioned this before but they used to be everywhere when I was young – where have they all gone? I’d like them back.

I had to join and ride along the N15 very briefly before taking the  R267 to my final destination for the night of Donegal Town – Dún na nGall which literally translates as “fort of the foreigners” – a probable reference to a Viking establishment c1100AD. Donegal gave it’s name to the county of Dongeal but it is not the “county town” – that is Lifford, but Donegal was the seat of power in the old Gaelic Kingdom of Tír Chonaill ruled by the O’ Donnell clan until it was abolished in 1601. Modern day County Donegal includes all of Tír Chonaill. Donegal Town is an old settlement with evidence of settlers here since prehistoric times.

The modern day town is built on the River Eske and has much of historical interest. The remains of the Franciscan Abbey date back to the 1400s and Donegal Castle which also dates back to that era and was the seat of power for the O’Donnells. It was considered one of the finest castles to belong to a Gaelic Chieften. Following the nine year war and the subsequent flight of the Earls in 1607 when O’Donnell (and the other Gaelic Chieftens) fled Ireland it was commandeered by the English and granted to Captain Basil Brooke. The fleeing O’Donnells had intentionally destroyed the castle but Brooke had it rebuilt and re-structured in the architectural style of the time. The Brooke family owned the castle for generations but it had fallen into disrepair by the end of the 18th century. In 1898, the Earl of Arran donated the remains of it to the Office of Public Works. In recent years the Office of Public Works has carried out major refurbishment and this work still continues.

Donegal is also a popular venue for night life and traditional music and many pubs and restaurants exist including the Abbey Hotel – a fine hotel and a beautiful building which dates back to the 19th century. My budget doesn’t stretch to staying in the Abbey and I stayed in the hostel about half a mile outside the town centre and which I’d highly recommend. I did explore some of the live music venues later. I had covered 53 miles so far – longer than it needed to be but scenic diversions add up.

The second day looked much more promising from a weather point of view. I set off after a leisurely breakfast and after comparing notes with a German cycle tourist who was also staying there but heading in the opposite direction towards Derry and was going to cycle the N15.

I did head west briefly towards Mountcharles, another place I hadn’t been to in many years. It had changed a lot less than Pettigo and the views across Donegal Bay were good. I then made the return trip to Laghey, stopping briefly at the famine grave and memorial.

From Laghey I made my way to Rossnowlagh, a famous seaside resort and another place I associate with childhood. There is a beautiful golden sand beach which is popular with surfers and at first glance there is very little else but it was always the same. There are many caravan parks and the Sand House Hotel. The little complex of amusement arcade, take away/cafe and shop seems to be closed now but there are an abundance of ice-cream vans, chip vans, etc. I just felt the whole place was too crowded and busy and doesn’t really appeal to me any more. Further out the road to Ballyshannon you pass the Friary which can be viewed by the public although I didn’t do so and also another reminder of the County Donegal Railways era in the form of a brick arch where the narrow guage railway which once served the coastal resort passed over the road. This branch line opened in 1905 and ceased service in December 1959.

It’s only a few miles from Rossnowlagh to Ballyshannon where you join the old N15 Sligo road which passed through the town before the construction of the new road which by-passes Laghey, Donegal, Ballyshannon and Bundoran. On the outskirts of Ballyshannon I saw thatchers working on the roof of an old cottage. This is a skill and a trade which has become almost extinct and it was nice to see.

I didn’t stop but Ballyshannon was eerily quiet with the bulk of the traffic now using the new road. It’s difficult to see now how all the traffic ever fitted through these narrow streets. Béal Átha Seanaidh –  “The Mouth of Seannach’s ford” refers to a crossing point on the mouth of the river Erne named after the 5th century warrior called Seannach who was killed here. There was some Viking involement in this area, notably an attack on the monastery on Inismurray Island and they then used the Erne to move inland. The course and water level of the River Erne was altered with the building of hydro-electric power stations by the ESB during the electrification of rural Ireland schemes carried out by the Free State Government and the modern day river is narrower and not as as deep as before. The agreement reached with Britain during WW II allowed the creation of the “Donegal Corridor” where the RAF planes could pass through neutral air space from Enniskillen and out to the Atlantic.

I continued on the old N15 to Bundoran, another very famous coastal and surfing resort although not one I have ever really liked. It’s too busy, too crowded and too expensive and nicer beaches and coastline can be found elsewhere. The modern town of Bundoran is actually formed from two small adjacent villages which grew into each other in the 1800s. When the Bundoran to Enniskillen mainline rail connection was opened in 1868, it linked Bundoran into Ireland’s main rail network which accounted for it’s sudden surge in popularity as a tourist destination as it was now just a train journey away from places like Belfast or Dublin. Despite being a weekday afternoon, the town was still really busy and congested. I stopped once briefly just outside the tourist office to use the public toilets. I had never planned to spend any time in Bundoran. It was never my favourite place.

Bundoran is of course the most southerly town in Donegal so almost immediately after leaving you cross into County Leitrim and outskirts of the town of Tullaghan. Leitrim has a very nice coastal route and is a pleasant and peaceful road to cycle but there is only 2 miles of it – the shortest coastline of any coastal county in Ireland. I headed towards Mullaghmore along minor roads and deviated from the Wild Atlantic Way route here a bit as that involves the N15 which I was trying to avoid. Before reaching Mullaghmore I turned off towards Cliffony and picked up the signs for the North West Passage cycle route which runs through the foothills of Ben Bulbin at this point. It is a joy to cycle on – small roads with grass growing through the middle and barely a single motor vehicle to be seen and some beautiful mountain scenery. I still think the Ben Bulbin area of county Sligo offers some of the best cycle routes available in the country.

It brought me back to civilisation in the town of Grange which meant I was now very close to Sligo City. I stopped for a long overdue lunch stop in the excellent Lang’s Bar in Grange which was recommended by one of the locals when I asked. I had no other easy option but to join the N15 for the last part of the journey into Sligo. There are other possibilities but they add a lot of time and it was now starting to get late and I always like to check into accommodation at a reasonable time. Besides I needed to cross the River Garavogue and the Hughes Bridge is the easiest way of doing so without going into the city centre. The part of the N15 which leads into Sligo isn’t too bad to cycle on as it’s one of the parts of the N15 which have been modernised and has wide lanes and generous hard shoulders. The old parts of this road around Ballybofey or around Cliffony are much narrower and would be horrible and very dangerous to cycle although many people do. The evening sun reflected of the River Garavogue at Ballast Quay. This was once a busy and important port. Today it is largely empty apart from pleasure craft.

I was able to use the shared use footpath on the way into Sligo and over the Hughes Bridge before making the turn-off for Frinisklin and Strandhill. The final few miles from Frinisklin to Strandhill offer stunning coastal views towards Rosses Point, Coney Island and the ever present Ben Bulbin and on a clear day you can see the cliffs at Sliabh Liag near Glencolumbkille. Sliabh Liag may not be as famous as the Cliffs of Moher but are the highest sea cliffs in Europe with the highest point at 1,972 feet above sea level. On the land-side of the coast road to Strandhill you also have the peak of Knocknarea mountain with Queen Maeve’s (High Queen of Connaught) final resting place supposedly underneath the cairn on the top.

The third day was also very promising looking with bright morning sun. An early morning walk along the seafront showed the surfers were out early, along with the horse riders and dog walkers. There would be no cycling today. It was to be a relaxing day and I had planned to climb Knocknarea. I had done this before last October but it was very misty at the time. I wanted to see it in nice weather. It’s possible to see five counties from the 1,073 feet high summit. It is not a difficult climb, being firm pathway to the top.

After breakfast I walked the mile or so to the starting point of Queen Maeve trail opposite the Sligo Rugby Club and Dolly’s Cottage. I made a brief call at the cottage first, intending to take a photo but the door was open and I was invited in by the curator. The cottage is two roomed building (it would have been a relatively luxury cottage in it’s time with stone walls, proper fireplace and chimney and two rooms) which was built c1800. It has survived pretty much intact as it was originally – the walls, roof timbers and most of the furniture and fixings are original. It was most recently the home of Miss Dolly Higgins who passed away in 1970 and the cottage came into the ownership of the Strandhill Guild of the Irish Countrywomens’ Association who have preserved it exactly as it was when Dolly lived there, the only thing different is the addition of electric light. It has recently been re-roofed which cost the Association approximately €15,000 due to the scarcity of materials which had to be brought in from Poland and the difficulty in finding a skilled thatcher as the trade has almost died out. It is expected the new thatch will last 20-30 years so maintaining a thatched house is not a cheap thing to do. The cottage isn’t that much different from the one my grandparents lived in. The one oddity is what is known as the “pouch bed” which is basically a bed in a large cupboard. I had never seen this before but it is known that one of the older generations of Higgins was a seafaring man and it is believed to be an idea copied from on board a ship. The wood used to build it clearly came from on board a ship. The bed is very short and you actually sleep sitting up. It was definitely an interesting visit and admittance is free although I did put a few Euro in the donations box.

I then crossed the road again to begin my ascent on the Queen Maeve trail. It isn’t that difficult to climb but the views are stunning and as always when climbing well trodden paths like this, you meet and talk to many people. The weather was very clear this time and I could see right across the bay and over Coney Island and Rosses Point towards Ben Bulbin. Coney Island I visited before and this is the original Coney Island – so called because of the abundance of rabbits. The American version was named after it by the captain (a native of Sligo) of the merchant ship Arethusa which sailed between Sligo and New York in the 19th century.

When you get to the top you are confronted by the huge cairn that is believed to have a passage tomb underneath dating from 3,000 BC, thought to be the largest outside of the Boyne Valley (this one has never been excavated). The cairn is over thirty feet in height. The legend is that Queen Maeve (properly spelled Medb) is buried here with her spear pointing towards her enemies in Ulster (as an Ulsterman, should I be afraid?). I was informed by the curator at Dolly’s Cottage that the local tradition is to carry a stone every time you climb the mountain and to lay it on the cairn as a mark of respect to Connaught’s great Queen and warrioress. This is probably why the cairn is so big. The curator confessed to me that as a child she used to carry pebbles from the beach as it was easier than carrying a rock! I must confess that I carried nothing so perhaps Medb will be chasing me with her spear! On the subject of respect, I was surprised by the amount of people who climbed the cairn despite many signs asking us not to. Children I can overlook but adults? The monument is several thousand years old after all, is it so difficult to treat it with respect?

I made a leisurely descent in the strong midday sun. It was almost unbearably hot and after I had walked back to Strandhill, I spent most of the rest of the day just relaxing on a bench on the seafront, watching the surfers and making idle conversation with random passers-by. Later I went to the Strand Bar with some others from the hostel to see live music.

Sunday morning was also very nice, bright and sunny and after breakfast and a final walk along the seafront and then to the shop to buy some supplies I set off on the next part of my journey along the coast to Ballysadare and eventually Ballina where I would be staying the night. I had done the Strandhill-Ballysadare coast road last October but from there I would be heading into uncharted territories for me. I have grown to love Sligo, it’s coastline, it’s friendly people and easy-going way of life. The journey to Ballysadare was straightforward and uneventful and I managed to resist any scenic detours! This area is rich in stoneage monuments. I believe Sligo has more than any other county and as well as the cairn on Knocknarea, there is also the Carrowmore tombs and many other less well known ones. I did stop at the magnificent waterfalls/cascade on the Owenmore River. Ballysadare as a town developed on a crossing point on the river. The town is probably best known for the silver and lead mining which continued into the twentieth century and also for it’s quarry industry. The main N59 to Ballina and beyond goes right through the town centre but as I was determined to use it as little as possible on this trip I turned inland when leaving the town towards Collooney and Coolaney.

Collooney is only a small village but was once an important stop on the railway lines which ran through the west of Ireland with no less than three stations – one on the Sligo to Claremorris line (The Western Railway Corridor), one on the Sligo/Leitrim line to the Enniskillen and the only one to remain – Collooney Station which is a stop on the Sligo – Dublin line and was first opened in 1862, being absorbed into the CIE (Córas Iompair Éireann) network in 1945. I took time to have a look around the station. I suspect the buildings are original and very nice and well maintained but the station now appears to be unmanned for most of the time with ticket machines along the platform. I had no trouble getting access to the platforms or anything as there was no-one to stop me. There is also what appears to be a disused factory on the opposite side of the railway line and I’m not sure what was made there.

Near Collooney you also find the monument in memory of Bartholomew Teeling who was one of the heros of the 1798 Rebellion.

From Collooney, I turned towards Coolaney and then I had to rejoin the N59 for a brief period until Beltra when I was able to return to minor roads along the Sligo coast. Despite being a Sunday afternoon on a Bank Holiday weekend, I didn’t find the N59 very busy. After leaving the N59 I started to make scenic detours down side roads to various beaches, etc as I was now back in tourist mode. I was particularly taken with Aughris Head which has some lovely scenery and a thatched pub and restaurant. This was ridiculously busy. I wouldn’t have minded a proper meal but it was queued out the door and the waitress told me it would be at least 90 minutes before I would get served so I settled for a packet of crisps and glass of Coke before continuing on my way.

This part of the Sligo coastline is relatively remote with not too many houses or villages. The next settlement of any note is the town on Easkey built on the River Easkey. The name comes from Iascaigh meaning fish as this is an important fishing river. It is a long established settlement with ruins of a castle dating from 1206AD, an old abbey dating from Medieval times and in use until 1888, and a courthouse built during the famine and in use until 2010. It survived an attack during the Irish Civil War. The stone arched bridge dating from 1847 is also very nice and contains a drinking trough built into the stonework which qualifies the town to hold fair days and the water from the trough is said to cure skin infections. Hangings also took place on the bridge until the end of the 19th century. I was also very impressed by some “cycling art” to be found outside of a cafe – I did stop to eat there and a few other cyclists were in residence.

I continued along the coast towards Enniscrone and by now the beautiful Killala bay was coming into view. I had the misfortune to be passing through Enniscrone during the annual blessing of the graves ceremony and the area outside the churchyard was seriously congested made worst by people drawing silage and unable to fit through with large machinery. Even on a bicycle I had to sit and wait for ages while it sorted itself out as there was no way through. I had a long conversation with a couple on modern road bikes who were also forced to wait and seemed impressed with my ride so far today and suggested a different route along the coast into Ballina from the one I was going to use and I’m pleased  they did. The minor road into Ballina along Killala Bay/River Moy is very impressive indeed. The Quays area of Ballina is very beautiful. Again, a once busy port is now nothing much apart from berths for pleasure crafts. The one permanent and famous resident of the River Moy at this point is the SS Creteboom, one of several concrete ship constructed during WW I to be used as a tug boat but this one wasn’t launched until 1919 when the war was over so it wasn’t needed. It was abandoned in the River Moy in the 1930s and it still remains. It was re-floated in the 1970s but nothing else has ever been done with it. The strong sunlight prevented me from taking a clear picture of this nautical relic.

I have passed through Ballina years ago but never explored the town and had absolutely no idea where my B&B was located but I actually found it very easily after I asked someone for directions (perhaps I should do this more often!). After a wash and a change of clothes, I went to explore a little on foot. It is a very old and historic town dating back to the 14th century and the town centre area contains many fine Georgian and Victorian buildings, including the pub/B&B where I spent the night. There is also the 15th century Moyne Abbey and the early 19th century RC Cathedral and several fine stone arched bridges which cross the River Moy creating a scene not unlike Westport but larger. Ballina is also the port at which the French Army under General Humbert landed in support of the United Irishmen Rebellion in 1798. There is a memorial dating from 1898 to mark the centenary of the rebellion to be found in Humbert Street. Truth is, there is a lot to explore in Ballina and I didn’t have time to do it properly. I could happily have spent a week here. It is town well worth visiting with very welcoming locals, much to see and many live music venues, an impressive-looking new theatre and nice restaurants. The River Moy is also very rich in salmon and many fly fishermen were to be seen in action. Interestingly, there is new pedestrian/cyclist bridge over the Moy which is not unlike the Peace Bridge across the River Foyle in Derry and it offers an excellent vantage point to see the beautiful old bridges. When planning and booking this trip, I wondered why accommodation seemed to be mostly booked up and more expensive than in any of my other stops but now I understand why. Ballina is just a nice place to visit.

The good weather continued for the bank holiday Monday as I left Ballina at around 10:30 AM to continue my journey along the coast towards Killala. I walked the bike along the pavements on the main streets until I joined the R314 as it wasn’t far and it seemed an easier option than dealing with a very confusing looking one way traffic system that looked like it would take me all over the place in the wrong direction first. The R314 was quieter than I expected it to be. I reached Killala Quay – another once busy but now largely disused port. At low tide the water along the pier seemed very shallow although there was a deep water channel I’d imagine this harbour is simply unusable to modern cargo ships. Killala was once linked to the Ballina-Dublin line by rail with plans to extend the track to other towns on the coast but although the bed for the track was laid and Great Western Midland Railway Company had built a hotel to receive the passengers, the track itself was never laid after a fallout between GWMR and the contractors and the hotel never opened and the Killala – Ballina line died a quick death as it didn’t lead anywhere so never received many passengers. Killala is another long established settlement with the ruins of several monasteries. The town was seized by the French Army under General Humbert shortly after landing in 1798. It was also the scene of the final battle of the rebellion in 1798 after the English forces defeated the rebels at Killala on the 23rd September 1798.

I had covered 188 miles up to this point. My bike blew over when I had left it propped against a railing on the pier at Killala and the cycle computer was a casualty so I have no accurate mileage figures after Killala which was annoying. Even more annoying was that my map which I had clipped to the bars fell into the harbour. I thought I could buy another map in a petrol station but couldn’t find anything beyond basic driving maps which only show the main roads I wished to avoid or the horrendously expensive definitive guide atlas to the Wild Atlantic Way which was also too bulky and awkward to use on a bike so from now on I’d have to rely on sign posts.

I continued along the coast road along Killala bay and on towards Ballycastle and the Ceide Fields. The weather remained good so far. I stopped in Ballycastle at Mary’s Cottage Kitchen for food and a short break before continuing to Ceidi Fields. Ballycastle is a nice little village on the edge of Mayo’s Gaeltacht, much smaller in size than it’s Antrim namesake. Ceidi Fields is the area where some of the first settlers came to this part of Mayo and is rich in neolithic relics. It is considered one of the most extensive neolithic sites in the world and one of the oldest field systems in the world. It was discovered in the 1930s by a schoolteacher cutting his turf and the area has been extensively excavated. It is possible to visit but I didn’t really have the time. I did stop at some of the magnificent cliffs just off the coastal road in this area to take some photos.

I continued on my way towards Belmullet. In doing so I made a navigational mistake and missed a part of the coast road which would have taken me towards Carrowteige. I was later informed I had missed the best part of the Mayo coast! Oh well, I can return at a later date. I didn’t actually stay in Balmullet but in a remote hostel about eight miles away in a small village called Pullathomas. This is a truely beautiful place, very remote and unspoiled with amazing views of the picturesque Sruwaddacon Bay. There is one shop in the village, which was closed when I arrived due to the owners being away for the bank holiday weekend! I was informed the nearest shop still open was about 12 miles away. As the hostel I was staying at served breakfast, I decided against the additional mileage on an already long day. Pullathomas has been voted the best place to “go wild” in Ireland and I can understand why due to the remoteness and the rugged beauty. First though, on the way to Pullathomas you pass through the townland of Glenamoy, scene of one of the famous IRA ambushes of the Irish Civil War which resulted in the death of six Free State troops and there is a memorial to their memory.

The Kilcommon Lodge hostel deserves a mention too.  It is mostly a 200 year old building with some modern add ons and is located in secluded spot beside a stream. It is very nice, basic but comfortable and well maintained and amazing atmosphere and welcoming staff, very cheap and staying here was one of the highlights of the trip.They also allow the pitching of tents in the garden. On the night I stayed here, there were only a few other hostel guests actually staying in the hostel – a Greek tourist guide who travels around writing guides to places like this and a group of four Scottish motorcyclists but there were many more people camping including another Irish man who was cycling the Wild Atlantic Way from south to north. He choose to do it that way as the prevailing winds would be behind him, something I hadn’t considered but more on that later. He was spending a period of months doing it sometimes covering as little as 20KM per day. This would be the way to do it if you had the time. There was also a German family travelling the Wild Atlantic Way in a tatty and well used late 1970s Mercedes estate car. It is nice to see it still in use in our throwaway world but I would not like to be fuelling it’s six cylinder engine for a trip of that length at today’s petrol prices. Also, I personally would very quickly get bored doing so much driving. I find driving a depressing task these days.

Getting bacon, sausage and eggs for breakfast the next morning was a nice unexpected bonus to set me up for the day. Unfortunately my run of good weather had come to an end. It was only a very light drizzle but misty, damp and overcast. I had a walk around the bay before leaving. I knew that the road through Pullathomas carried on along the inlet and in a loop around that part of coastline back to join the Belmullet road again at Barnatra so decided to do this rather than re-trace my steps. The drizzle had lifted but the mist remained and once out of the valley it became very windy. West Mayo is wild and exposed terrain and gets the full force of the Atlantic. I suddenly understood the point about cycling with the prevailing winds behind you but on an unhurried trip like this it is largely irrelevant. Just spin a low gear and keep going.

I had never been to Belmullet before but it always fascinated me when looking at maps and learning place names in National School – this little peninsula which was almost an island with just the tiniest land bridge to the mainland. I believe an attempt was once made to cut a channel for ships to pass through it but it has long silted up again. The town of Belmullet (Béal an Mhuirthead – mouth of the Mullet peninsula) is situated just on the entrance to the peninsula and I couldn’t believe the traffic levels. It appears to be one serious bottleneck although where all the traffic is going isn’t clear to me as it’s such a remote and sparsely populated area with no through roads other than to the sea. I did stop in the town to go to the shop. It’s a nice enough town, just a typical Irish provincial town which dates back to early 1700s. West Mayo was badly affected by the famine and once up to 3,000 people were recorded as being in the overcrowded workhouse which is now the town’s hospital. I had considered exploring the peninsula but decided against it due to time constraints. It is 14-15 miles from Belmullet to Blacksod on the southern tip so that would have been 30 miles added to my days riding for no real gain so I turned around and made my way inland again.

The next town on my journey would be Bangor Erris. This is a small town with a population of around 500 people but forms the gateway  to the Erris region of Mayo linking Ballina, Westport and Belmullet. There aren’t many road to choose from around here so you really need to use the main roads which aren’t heavily trafficked anyway. It is on the the river Owenmore and in the shadows of the Néifinn Bheag mountain range. It is a nice spot though and there looks to be a very nice shared use path along the river which I would have liked to explore but hadn’t time. I had something to eat in a cafe – I had learned by now to accept cafes and shops when you find them as there aren’t very many in this sparsely populated area.

My panned destination for the night was on Achill Island so had to take the N59 towards Mullaraney. I normally avoid National Primary routes where possible but didn’t know an alternative without a map but it was fine. This stretch of the N59 seems to have about one car every half an hour. It also has the added bonus of passing through the Ballycroy National Park. I hadn’t really came across any noticeable hills since leaving Ballina on Monday morning but the headwind made it slow going at times. The journey to Mullaraney was slow but uneventful. I stopped at Ballycroy to take some photos. It really is a beautiful place – 27,000 acres of mountains, bogs and lakes and is now on my list of places that need further exploration. Slieve Carr is the highest peak in the Néifinn Bheag range at just over 2,300 feet.

The weather turned horribly wet and windy as I reached Mullaraney. Mullaraney is another small town and was once a stop on the Westport to Achill line on which the Great Western Greenway cycle path now runs. The once fine station is now a ruin but the hotel built by the railway company in 1900 is still operational.

I could have taken the Greenway to Achill but decided to stay on the road as it was so wet and I thought the road was probably going to be quicker. I crossed the bridge to Achill and continued against a strong head wind along the R319 which runs through the centre of Achill. I could only hope for better weather to explore the island in the morning. I had a vague idea where the Valley Hostel was located but it seemed further than I remember in this weather. I needed to take a turn-off for Dugort on the northside of the island and then hostel is located down another minor road in a remote location. I arrived at last, dripping water and very pleased to find shelter. A turf fire was a very welcome sight.

The hostel (which also includes a bar and restaurant) is a very interesting building. The existing building dates from 1902 and was built to replace/renovate an earlier one which was destroyed in a fire and the scene of a vicious attack in 1894 where the original owner, Agnes McDonnell was brutally attacked (he even cut off part of her nose) by her land agent, James Lynchehaun following a long-running dispute about his dishonesty and he set fire to the house to cover his tracks but his mistress survived and he was arrested but escaped RIC custody and fled to America. The crime reached such notoriety at the time that the British Government made several attempts to have him extradited for trial but he always managed to defeat them in the American courts and he did actually return to Achill years later disguised as an American tourist and actually died in 1937 in Girvan, Scotland so it appears he continued to defy the British Authorities until the very end. The building retains many of it’s period features and furniture but is a bit run down now.

The weather was worse the following morning but I decided to proceed with my plans to the best of my ability despite the weather. Cycling exposed Atlantic coastline during a gale warning probably isn’t a good idea but I did it anyway. After leaving the hostel, I completed most of the red marked route in this tourist map.

It was really windy to say the least, especially on the exposed coastal sections. There were a few other cyclists and hikers out and about as well so I was pleased to know I was not alone in my madness.The beautiful beach at Trá Dhumha Goirt in the shadows of An Sliabh Mhór was largely deserted and shrouded in the late morning mist but I think it made them more more mysterious and beautiful. An Sliabh Mhór is the second highest peak on the island at 2,200 feet above sea level.

After some quite tough climbing, the route brings you around the arguably even more beautiful Keel Strand which looked very desolate and windswept but there were quite a lot of people around, dressed in waterproofs and braving the weather. I always find being at a beach in weather like this wakes you up and leaves you feeling re-freshed. I didn’t go to the absolute west of the island although it was my original plan to do so. It is very hilly and in weather like this it would have been awfully exposed.

The rain had stopped by now although the wind showed no signs of dying down. I took some photos of Loch an Chaol before continuing on my way towards to the mainland on the R319. I also stopped of briefly at the Western Light Art Gallery before leaving Keel Village. There are many excellent paintings and photos if you had the money to buy them and the guy working there was very interesting with an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of the western coastline from Malin Head to Dingle.

Now heading east towards Mullaraney the wind was now behind me and progress was much more effortless and swifter! After leaving Achill I turned on to The Great Western Greenway for the final part of the trip to Westport. I was surprised by how many people were out braving the inclement weather. The last time I was here, there was a cheap mountain bike propped up against a tree with the chain hanging off. It was still standing in the same place, still with the chain off! Obviously it’s owner has abandoned it. Clew bay and the mountains were shrouded in mist this time. Part of my original plan was to ride a bit further along the Mayo coast towards Murrisk and Louisburgh but it starting pouring rain again as I reached Westport and it was already quite late. It was time to call it a day.

The next day it was time to go home and also to carry out an experiment. In theory, Bus Éireann Expressway services carry bikes as luggage in the hold but I had never tried to do so before. If they didn’t, I would have a major problem. I suppose I should have made full enquiries before hand rather than leave it to chance but I turned up in Mill Street to catch the 12:05 Westport to Dublin service as there are no direct Donegal services from Westport, I would have to change in Charlestown to  catch the Galway-Derry service. In the end it all worked well with no problems although there was a €10 additional charge for the bike. I always had a concern with putting a bike in the luggage compartment of a bus would leave it open to damage from people throwing things on top of it but my bike emerged at both Charlestown and in Stranorlar without any damage. All that was left now was to cycle the final 12 miles or so from Stranorlar to home – in complete contrast to the previous two days, the sun was shinning.

I’m just wondering when I could do part three from Westport – Cliften-Galway and into Co. Clare…