The Aran Islands – INISHMOR AND DUN AONGHASA FORT

Day 1 here: A RETURN TO IRELAND’S WILD ATLANTIC WAY

Day 2 – On our Bikes to Dun Aonghasa

I rarely sleep well the first night in a new bed so it was the wee small hours before I nodded off. Woke at 5.30am to the sound of Simone boiling the kettle for a cup of tea to take out with her early morning vape! Aargh! Tried to doze off again but couldn’t , so eventually made tea and had a read in bed.

Breakfast was in an interesting room full of Irish and family memorabilia but I have to say, it was a bit disappointing overall and the ‘poorest’ breakfast of the trip. I ordered porridge from the menu but what arrived was that instant stuff which looks and tastes like gruel.At a pinch, I’ve used this on a wild camping trip for sheer practicalities but I’d hoped for the real thing in a B&B. The cooked part of breakfast was a single slice of bacon and a small amount of scrambled egg. Soda bread was on offer which I’m not a huge fan of but actually I got to like better as it was often all that was served. Gallons of decent tea, so that was good.

The owner was curious about my accent and I said I was Scottish. ‘ Ah you’re Highland alright, ‘ he announced firmly, ‘that’s a Highland accent.’ It’s actually west central Scotland/ Glasgow but I was quite chuffed.I always cringe if anyone says ‘oh you’re from Glasgow aren’t you?’ because so many people associate the city’s accent with the famous Rab C Nesbitt character.I can mimic that hard, toe curling accent if I want to as I was brought up in the dark depths of the now quite notorious Govanhill but it’s not how I ( or most other Glaswegians I know) speak as a norm.😀

On Our Bikes!

Off we set at 9am for the Aran Bike Hire shop down at the pier in Kilronan.It was a very casual affair where the young guy just told us to take whatever bike we wanted and grab a helmet! We both had to get the bikes adjusted slightly as they were too big and the only helmet I could get to fit me was a child’s. It was dayglo pink with large letters that spelled ‘Princess.’ Simone suggested it looked too small and a bit ridiculous when a guy passed by, took one look and said – ‘Naw, it’s gorgeous!’ We both – the chap and I – burst out laughing.

Raring to get going, Simone took off like a bat out of hell, whizzing along the Main Street and making for the hill up out of the village.We’d got bikes with baskets but I completely misjudged the weight of my rucksack in it and when I pedalled off, the whole bike wobbled so badly, I had to drop out of the saddle double quick and come to a halt. The pedal swept round and cracked my shin, drawing blood.This all happened pretty much in front of the bike hire guy. I was sure he shook his head a little, no doubt thinking…that one’s not going to get very far today!

With the pack now on my back, my balance felt better and I raced to catch Simone up, one calf dramatically smeared with blood.The bikes looked worn and basic but in fact the gears were decent , certainly good enough for a relatively flat island. I’d been slightly dreading the hill but I was amazed at how I managed up it quite the thing.I hadn’t been convinced of bikes, but Simone had been keen and they were a good shout as they let us get around the island quite quickly.I did used to cycle regularly, commuting twice a week and doing some longer runs, so thankfully, the knack soon came back.Simone struggled with the gears initially and the little ascents but overall, I thought she managed really well.

It was a gorgeous morning, sunny and cool with almost no wind.We stopped at a viewpoint overlooking a seal colony and spoke to an elderly chap out for a walk.There wasn’t another soul around.

I loved the endless stone walls on the island; they are such a beautiful part of the landscape and it being May, the wildflowers were out too.Ireland does very well to retain and value its stone walls.Unfortunately in too many parts of the Scottish Highlands, although plenty of walls still exist, too many IMO have been replaced by ugly wire fencing.No doubt cost comes into it but I always remember driving near The Burren and being delighted to see posters up proclaiming the need keep stone walls.

It was a lovely, easy cycle to the visitor centre of Dun Aonghasa , the superb ancient fort which had drawn us to Inishmor.

A 3,000 year old fort

Parked the bikes outside the centre, paid our 5 euros entry then , after reading a little about the site, we walked up the beautifully made path to this World Heritage fort perched on the island’s 300 foot cliffs.

It really is a stunning site, the sea crashing below, the fort a semi circle of stones; perhaps smaller than we expected, the walls lower.The most dramatic and revealing views of the fort are certainly best in aerial shots. Strange sharp stones have been placed in the ground all around the exterior called chevaux-de-frise , acting as another form of defence to stop attackers.

More on the site here:

We spent about half an hour at Dun Aonghasa , not a soul around after an American lady left.Before that, we had chatted to her and she had kindly offered to take our photo. Found a pew on a flat stone and had some water and fruit, both of us feeling very lucky to have such great weather on Inishmor.

Unfortunately, the café at the visitor centre wasn’t open so the cake I was looking forward to so much after the visit didn’t materialise. No matter, on we cycled to another site, the Seven Churches, although nowadays , there is only one ruin.

It was a peaceful, lovely site and a nice interlude for a break before we made for our final location of the day…Dun Eochanachta ….another ringed fort a 10 minute cycle away.Parked the bikes when the path got too rough and enjoyed a pretty walk through fields, the way always clear.

I do love these ringed forts though I think my favourite so far is Grianan of Aileach in Donegal, quite near the border and Derry. 

As we made our way back down, an American guy, who had also arrived by bike, was coming our way. He said ‘ I think someone ‘s made off with your bikes , ladies!’
Simone had been a bit worried about leaving the bikes but it had all seemed perfectly safe to me, so our faces must have been a picture.Very quickly , this joker said- ‘ah just kidding…they’re fine.’ What a complete chump – I mean, why would you?

Heading back, the road was a bit busier now with bikes, walkers and a few cars.I was really enjoying the cycle now and Simone had settled better with the gears though she was struggling a bit on the ascents. But we were soon back at Joe Watty’s and a final downhill to the village where various cafes and shops were now going like a fair.So this was where all the day trippers were!

Grabbed a seat below the hostel, Simone with her flask of coffee and me with a takeaway tea.Nice to have time to just sit in the sunshine, a good 90 mins before the ferry at 5pm , chatting about what we’d seen, how good the cycle was and the days to come.

Dinner at O’Dowd’s Roundstone

A pleasant ferry journey back and by 6pm I was back behind the wheel with an hour’s drive ahead to Roundstone and dinner at the well known fish restaurant and pub, O’Dowd’s. I’d booked for 7.30pm and was slightly worried about being late but I recall we arrived by 7.15pm, even taking it very easy on the winding roads. Decided right away that we’d eat in the cosy bar rather than the busier restaurant – I recall the menu was the same.
Roundstone is a pretty wee place in a lovely location in very lovely Connemara. I’d been here before with my husband Chris and was really pleased that Simone liked it so much too.

Started with a Mackerel pate and toast which was excellent.I love Mackerel in any form.
Then we shared a Seafood Platter with Oysters, Salmon and Mussels.As it turned out, this was the best seafood we had the whole week.Oddly, nowhere seemed to offer a wide range of seafood such as we are used to at home….for example, there were no langoustines or crab claws, no lobster or scallops.Maybe it wasn’t worth the fishermen’s while in mid May with fewer visitors? I don’t know.

I can never resist a pudding and they had a pear and rhubarb crumble on the menu, a favourite dessert of mine.I did ask if it was a proper baked crumble and was assured it was but sadly, not the case! More a granola type topping with a dollop of long life cream😔

Chefs don’t know how to make a good, true crumble these days. It’s one of the world’s best desserts yet is so simple…flour, sugar and butter and some cinnamon or mixed spice, all mixed together until crumbly in texture then sprinkled over sliced fruit and bunged into the oven for 45 mins.Bingo…gorgeous! All that said, it doesn’t keep that well and can go a bit soggy by Day 3 so possibly that’s turned chefs against making the Real McCoy.

Old Castle B &B

We had left it late to reach our B&B at Renvyle where I suddenly noticed we were expected to check in no later than 7pm!😦 It was now 8.30pm and we had a further 50 min drive ahead of us, so I made a frantic phone call to our hostess.Thankfully, she was very understanding and confirmed we still had our beds for the night!

Panic over, it was a lovely , sunny evening as we drove past the white sands of Dogs Bay which Chris and I had strolled a few years back; it had reminded us very much of some of our Hebrides.

Once through attractive Clifden, the clouds descended and by the time we arrived at Old Castle B&B( horrendously late at 9.40pm) we got a brief look at the lovely mountains which had impressed me so much last visit.Not only that, we had a beautiful sunset to cap it all.

The house was really lovely and in a terrific location by the sea, the whole overlooked by a ruined tower house(which looked decidedly shaky!) Well worth the extra bit of driving to be here.I had really wanted Simone to see this area.

Loved this B&B actually.Along with our final accommodation in C.Sligo, it was our favourite of the trip.Lots of interesting books in the house, a spacious twin room ensuite, but really the location was just perfect(with a car) and if you wanted to be out on your own, so to speak.

Day 1 : A RETURN TO IRELAND’S WILD ATLANTIC WAY
Next days: ACHILL ISLAND, WEST COAST OF IRELANDThe Mullet Peninsula and Downpatrick Head – Wild Atlantic Way continued andMayo, Sligo and terrible news