Mayo, Sligo and terrible news

I woke just after midnight to Simone’s mobile ringing out. It was her husband calling to say that her father (96 years) had been taken into hospital quite suddenly.Two weeks before our trip, he had suffered a fall but not a bad one and he was recovering well and being very cheery at home in Germany, being attended to by Simone’s two sisters.But out of the blue, his health had taken a bit of a turn for the worse.

There was nothing else to do but await further news and at least the information was that he was stable and comfortable.Simone thought it was best that we just kept on with our plans, keep busy and see what developed.He was, at least, in the right place.

So after a good tasty breakfast, we said cheerio to the nice people running Ross Beach Farmhouse and headed into Killala.It was a delightful wee place with a fine 12th century round tower.

Had a stroll around the village then made for 15th century Rosserk Abbey.

This was a beauty of a ruined abbey in a lovely, bucolic situation built by the Joyce family for the Franciscan friars.There was some fine stone carving including a carving of the nearby round tower of Killala on an upright. I love it when information on a site gives you some small details to find, like a wee treasure hunt otherwise I doubt we would have found it.

It was possible to climb up onto one level of the abbey for views over the sea inlet.

Another feature of the landscape in May was that the Hawthorn was out and this really added to the loveliness of the countryside as we drove by.

We were now making for Carrowmore Megalithic Cemetery , about a 70 min drive away and which may become a World Heritage Site.

A small visitor centre where we paid the very small entry fee and the girl on reception asked where we were from.When I said Scotland she asked immediately about Orkney and the World Heritage Sites there…had we seen them…what were they like…etc.I said yes I had visited them and they were amazing! It was her ambition to visit, she said.

It’s quite a small site but very interesting with numerous ancient tombs and dolmens. Overlooking all a few miles away is the large cairn on Knocknarea which is Queen Maeve’s Cairn and with its own passage tomb.

We strolled the site which was very quiet and wondered at the ancient peoples who had once lived and died here and built these tombs.So much history.

Climbing the 300m high hill of Knocknarea was now on the agenda, a short drive away.I can’t remember which car park we used but it was a very large one with a small kiosk selling tea and gifts.The journey however is a bit of a blank because as we drove there, the terrible news came in that Simone’s father had passed away.Everyone had expected his recovery but he had deteriorated quite suddenly again.There were lots of messages and phone calls coming from and to the family and I asked Simone what she wanted to do.Make for the B&B? Rest after the shock? Of course, we would need to arrange flights home tomorrow and Simone would need to then also fly out to Germany as soon as possible.

I think she must have been in some level of shock but Simone decided she would like to just do the walk we’d planned anyway, it would clear her head a little bit and be a temporary distraction.

Simone is very pragmatic and logical and I could see what she meant; the last thing she wanted to do was sit about brooding and being frustrated at being so far away when there was nothing to be done until tomorrow when we knew Ryanair flew out in the morning back to Edinburgh.

It did feel slightly surreal to be setting off on the walk but there it was.We made our way to the top on a well built path, taking no more than 25 mins, a very easy ascent and with extensive views opening up over the wider area and the sea.

The cairn was enormous – no wonder it’s so well seen! A few people were at the top but it was very quiet overall.

That accomplished, we headed into the car park at Strandhill, a busy seaside town with a big surfing beach.There, we spent 40 mins booking new flights back plus Simone managed to get an onward flight from Edinburgh, the same day, to Frankfurt.

With those arrangements made, we headed down to the Shells Café, absolutely mobbed and got some much needed tea and coffee and a seat.The baking was a bit disappointing but it turned out there was a better stuff in the adjacent shop where I got a couple of good coconut and chocolate truffle balls.

Simone was bearing up very well – in fact maybe too well.I think it was shock and also a certain unreality at what had happened given she was so far away and in an unfamiliar place.She insisted that we stop off at Drumcliff before we made for our B&B so that’s what we did.

Our plan tomorrow had been to do the little boat trip on Lough Gill where they recite The Lake Isle of Inishfree then various short walks around the lake shore. Not to be this time.But we did manage

to visit Yeats’ grave at Drumcliff Church, with its fine backdrop of Ben Bulbin.

Helpfully, the site of Yeats’ grave is described well so we found it very quickly, reading its famous Horseman Pass By inscription.Very moving. I love many of Yeats poems and perhaps a highlight was Chris and my visit to Dublin where there was a Yeats Exhibition and we actually heard a recording of the man himself reciting the poem.He read it so beautifully in such a measured tone, I was moved to tears.His recitation really captured the utter peace suggested by the poem itself.

There is a modern sculpture outside the church too but what was I hadn’t expected was the carved words of the poem ‘He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven.’ Simone asked if I would read it out to her and I managed down to the final two lines when emotions just overtook me completely and I couldn’t finish. It’s one of my favourite poems and has special meaning between my husband and myself.Perhaps also given the terrible circumstances over our trip now, it was just too much.

We had a last look at the fine Celtic Cross at the far end of what had once been a significant religious complex and headed back to the car.

A 20 min drive took us to Ocean Heights Guesthouse beyond Cullumore where our B and B was in a superb location overlooking the sea.This was my favourite of all the places we stayed, out on its own pretty much, with a short walk taking us to a wild shore and views to Donegal(which I have fond memories of.) We had been due to have two nights here and fully expected to honour the payment but our hostess said she would only charge us one night, very kind.

Headed out for a walk and followed a shore path which gave us a comfy grassy seat overlooking the rocky shore and the sizeable waves washing in.

Away to the north I pointed out the Slievemore Cliffs to Simone which I had explored a few years back on a solo trip.

There was nice evening light which lit up Ben Bulben behind us before we headed in as showers came in .

So that was our trip over. Ending very sadly and in a shocking way.No matter if a parent is elderly, to lose a father is a dreadful thing.I was very close to my dad and although he passed away 12 years ago after a year fighting lung cancer, that pain and loss has become a part of me.

I don’t want to think of our trip as ill – fated given how long we waited for it to happen.Neither would Simone.Too many lovely sights/sites and experiences which will remain in our memories forever.

Previous Days:A RETURN TO IRELAND’S WILD ATLANTIC WAYThe Aran Islands – INISHMOR AND DUN AONGHASA FORTACHILL ISLAND AND MORE WILD ATLANTIC WAY TRAVELSThe Mullet Peninsula and Downpatrick Head – Wild Atlantic Way continuedMayo, Sligo and terrible news