Deep in the undergrowth and back to comfort

Thursday brought hangovers to the young visitors in the Cain cottage. I awoke to hear someone quite ill in the bathroom next door and I tried to turn over and go back to sleep. After dozing for awhile Gareth and I realized the whole house was awake around us and we had better rouse ourselves for the walk we had planned with the family. Gareth's parents take long hikes almost every day, usually about 9 -10km, rounding up with a hearty pub lunch. The lunch part I completely got, but the school of thought I come from normally involves a bit of a walk to see a nice view or to get somewhere, not to take a detour of a few kilometers. Still when in Wales....

Gareth's Dad was really gracious about the fact that we had all rolled in drunk, slept too late and delayed their plans and we took off through the fields and down through a forest. It was really very pretty and I always appreciate greenery now since I live in the desert. Jenny was stung by some nettles right through her jeans but she recovered pretty quickly. Gareth climbed to the top of an old ruin - I thought he might try and jump off - he just has a boundless sense of adventure and a lack of fear but thankfully his Mum's cries made him come down, through a dark tunnel infested with god knows what! We then made our way down to the beach and it was absolutely breath-taking. I love the sea anywhere, but it was so unspoiled, nature as intended with views of the Welsh and British coastline speckled in places with sunlight and clouds in other areas. I got a bit excited when I thought I could see Ireland - but not from where we were unfortunately. We played on the beach with the doggy and looked in the rock pools for baby crabs. Then we climbed up again to the forest and found a rough path along the coast. The sky threatened rain but I could still hear the buzz of bees on the hedges. There were a few close calls with buzzing in my hair - which induces a worse panic when I'm hungover - and I think Gareth was tiring of my silly phobia. He was also hungover and  I think most of our patience was stretched a little thin!

We came to a beautiful lighthouse where I thought we might have a short break for tea but apparently we weren't half way there yet! We managed to convince Pete that we needed some water but I think he thought we were just lightweights (being completely right!). I was relieved to see a proper path leading back up towards various villages but Coral and Pete thought the low road through another forest might have been more interesting. There were many nettles to manouevre and little streams to jump across which normally I'd find quite fun, but I was feeling a little weary and longed for the normal path. Jenny, Owen and myself were obviously feeling the same as we all hung back, plodding slowly uphill through the forest, we could hear Pete up ahead and it's shameful that people twice our age were not even fazed by the physical activity whilst we tired so easily. Gareth came back a few times for me, particularly after I got nettle stings (managing to get some thorns up my coat sleeves!) and eventually it seemed we were on a road, looking at some lovely cottages and country homes. Finally we were at the pub, but we had missed lunch! The chef was nice enough to provide us some plates of chips and we made do with crisps and chocolate. I still couldn't face an alcoholic beverage and was quite surprised that Gareth could, but he never ceases to surprise me. Pete was jovial and asking me if I'd enjoyed the walk; the truth was that I really enjoyed the first few km, it was my own fault I was hungover and just wanted to sit for the last km or 2. After a few beverages Pete and Jenny decided they would walk home with the dog. The rest of us thought the rain was finally going to come down so we would take a bus back to St. Donat's. The bus-driver was ever so sweet and didn't charge us even though we had about 3 stops; Take note Bus Eireann!

We arrived back to the house as the heavens opened; only for us to realize that we had no keys. Jenny and Pete weren't home so Gareth decided he would climb through our bedroom window to get in. How I wish I had it on camera! So we happily came in out of the rain whilst poor Pete and Jenny got caught in it. For food, a Smorgasbord was decided on - this family could not have been more after my own heart - there was Le Rustique, rocket salad, beetroot, corn beef pie and lots of fresh bread amongst many other tasty delights. My favorite food is tapas, mainly because I find it hard to choose so little bits of many good foods - in any culture absolutely delight me. We all curled up to watch "The Shawshank Redemption" as I had never seen it. The rain battered the windows and the wind howled down the country lanes as we snuggled, drank wine and watched a great film in lovely company. We all retired to bed early and another part of our journey had been completed - leaving me with a feeling of perfect contentment. Saying goodbye to Coral and Pete I felt there was no question I would be back in this wonderful hearth of happiness without any realisement of how wrong I could be.
Hold onto perfect moments and savour them for a few more seconds....

The end of a legendary weekend....

The phrase "sleeping in a hostel" is an oxymoron - you can "stay" in a hostel but you won't get much sleep. Our room mates came in at various hours, some shouting and carousing; others creeping in but inadvertently crashing into someone else or something and creating an almighty racket! Gareth came in quietly and kissed me good night before getting up to his bunk - he'd drank the bar out of Jager; I was so proud of him (for the jager not the quiet). Just as I was dropping off to sleep there was some shuffling and some of the girls came in, giggling, rooting in their bags and then heading out again, trying to be quiet in that drunken way that actually makes you noisy like a rustling plastic bag in a cinema. So, not entirely sated with sleep I got out of bed on the Sunday to see grey skies and drizzle; no Slievemore today then. We were too late for breakfast in the allotted time and we decided that we would follow the Atlantic Drive that day for something to do. Unfortunately we were in a clothing bind; Gareth had literally run out of clean clothes, so we had a stop off in the campsite at Keel to put on a wash, try and find somewhere to serve us a late breakfast. We drove all the way over to Gielty's past Dooagh but we had literally just missed breakfast. Soup and sambo's it was then and we headed back to put the clothes in the dryer and get our walk on Atlantic Drive. We had another stop in Achill sound to pick up some booze for the evening and finally we were on our way.

We stopped at Kildavnet Castle, a legendary look-out for the pirate queen, Granuaile. The weather was clearing so we drove round Darby's point with a superb view of Achill Beg and Clare Island. We stopped twice and walked down towards the cliffs - I know Gareth thought I'd be afraid but I felt much more comfortable here - if the sheep were happy then so was I!

We looked at the stunning rock formations, and how calm the sea was and generally just marveled over the beauty of the island. We could see over the Minaun cliffs how the rain was over on that side of the island and we just enjoyed walking around, looking for crabs and sea-urchins in some of the rock-pools. A handful of cars past in the hour or so we spent there and I just loved being out in the wide-open space with the man I loved so much. We headed back to the Valley for a little rest before driving out to April's family cottage. They have a wonderful piece of land, beside the sea, opposite Inishbiggle island. We had the company of Jody and Patrick, who were working in the Valley for the summer, and they just adored the place. April presented us a lovely fresh beetroot and feta salad along with her tasty spag bol and we got down to the business of drinking and chatting. It was a great evening, new-found friends and laughter and we decided on a nightcap at the Valley around midnight. The bar was packed, we ordered in some shots and started the party but once again I had to shy away (at 3am to be fair) as I'd a long drive ahead on the Monday. Packing and leaving Achill next day was a speedy affair, Jody and Patrick wanted to go to Castlebar so we'd offered them a lift. We barely thought twice about leaving the island, we'd had a great weekend and I firmly thought we'd be visiting again in the future. At least I know I'll always have it to go back to.

Slievemore - or not?

Day 2 in Achill and I was relieved that I hadn't to drive anywhere far. I'd woken up sometime in the middle of the night realizing that two people in a top bunk probably wasn't ideal and managed to clamber out without waking Gareth - this is quite the feat since I usually inadvertently wake him by unusual means such as hitting him in the face or groin or stomach. I honestly don't mean it - I think it's some kind of physiological disorder (although I do laugh hysterically when it happens; maybe I'm just a bad person). Our aim was to climb Slievemore that day and the weather seemed on our side - it was glorious. I said I'd go up the easy side (the other way is much rockier and overhangs the sea!) so we drove to the base part. I noticed a threatening cloud coming down; the mist had already started rolling down the mountain. It can be perilous up on that mountain in the mist, as one wrong step and you're in trouble. We decided to walk across the hills towards Dooagh instead. We had a look at the ruins in the Deserted Village and enjoyed the sun on our backs as we strolled across the hills. Of course, halfway through we looked back to see the mist had cleared but we were two hours into the walk by then so I wasn't eager to turn back. When we got to Dooagh we decided to continue up the narrow road across the cliffs to Keem Bay but exhaustion started to overcome me so I called April to see if she would pick us up. Gareth kept walking, keen to see Lough Acorrymore. I sat watching small boats out on the ocean and gazing across to Clare Island. When April arrived and Gareth returned we drove over to Keem Bay - an absolutely breathtaking inlet on Achill. Gareth even braved the icy seawater! We had a slightly dissatisfying lunch in the Beehive so visited the Cottage for more food.

 Back at the Valley I had a little snooze whilst a session played in the Courtyard and a few refreshing pints were consumed. When I awoke I realized that I had been seriously sunburned on our walk, I had splotches of red in various places and my nose was like a beacon!! It was down to the bar for another session by the fireplace and good fun with my Dad. At one point he leaned over to me and said "Do you know what I hate about Gareth?" Stunned, I looked at him and waited for him to go on - "Everyone loves him!" He said and winked at me. A boyfriend of mine had finally won Dad's approval! After a few creamy pints of Guinness I had to head off to bed at 12.30am. This was met with shock and dismay to a few people - I'm usually one of the last standing. I think the walk and the sun had just taken it's toll. The jager bottle had been opened and the shots were going down as I crept up the stairs to Room 6.