A Connemara Weekend
Nov 27th, 2006 | 02:30 PM
#1
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A Connemara Weekend
Connemara, July 2006
Connemara is a special place. It extends about 80km west of Galway city, and is about 40km from north to south. Not that the dimensions matter greatly, because the outline is very irregular (defined by a heavily-indented coastline and by lakes) and there is very little straight road. It is a landscape of mountains and hills, bogs and rocks, with relatively little fertile land, a great deal of water in mountain streams and little rivers, in some large and many small lakes, and it is a place of many islands, both marine and freshwater. Connemara has a distinctive colour palette with muted greens, greys tinged with pink, and faded browns. Large tracts of it are very thinly populated, and human activity seems not to impinge greatly on a natural landscape; this last impression is false, as the area was largely denuded of trees by people, and in many places the bogs have been cut away to leave little more than bare rock. Nevertheless, it is a landscape of great visual appeal which has exercised many a painter and photographer.
For all its beauty, Connemara did not have the capacity to support a large population, and those that lived there were generally somewhat deprived. It was seen as a wild place of wild people. One result is that the Gaelic language and traditional way of life survived better there than in many other places. In more recent times things have changed because of improved communications, industrial development, and tourism. But the past seems close in Connemara.
These are some of the reasons why Herself and I like Connemara so much. The fact that we both have been there frequently since adolescence, and have experiences to recall or re-live, also comes into it, as does a desire to be in the Gaeltacht from time to time to experience the Gaelic language and culture. We try to spend time there every year.
* * *
The commitments in Galway were all discharged by 6.00 p.m. on Thursday, and Herself and I headed west for a couple of days of R&R. Our chosen base, as often, was Oughterard, a picturesque village on the shores of Lough Corrib. The first stop was Wellfield Farmhouse, Mary and Pat's B&B. After unpacking the car, we had tea and brown bread with our hosts and caught up on the news since our last visit. We were fussed over by cats and dogs -- as if Pat's two working dogs were not enough, the young Labrador from across the road abandoned her pups in order to get a share of the attention.
Wellfield is well-located for people like us, a few hundred metres from the bustle of the busy village, close enough to allow us to walk in and, more important, back out without worrying about drinking and driving. We went into the village to seek dinner. This is one area where things have changed in the last few years. There are plenty of dining opportunities, but all of them involve fairly similar mid-market menus, satisfactory enough but not particularly interesting. Four years ago there were three superior restaurants, but two have gone and one has moved downmarket. I'm sure that this is because high Irish prices have made fine dining less affordable for visitors. We would like to have the option of having a meal more interesting than we can conveniently prepare at home, even if it involves spending a little more. After a dinner that was pleasant but not particularly memorable we took a short walk, then retired to bed.
Friday morning was overcast, but not oppressively so; the cloud cover was white rather than grey, so we could hope for the sun to break through during the day. We headed west to Maam Cross (I much prefer its Gaelic name, Teach Dóite -- literally translated as burnt house). A right turn, up through the almost empty valley, rock and bog and water, to Maam. The junction there is a decision point for tourists. One can go right and along the shores of Lough Corrib to Cong, and then either along the narrow valley of Loughnafooey or along the road between the Partry Mountains and the broad expanse of Lough Mask, all highly scenic country. Or one can go left, as we habitually do, and did this time, through the Maumturk Mountains to Leenane, at the head of the long fiord of Killary Harbour. Leenane is both picturesque and untidy (that is a common phenomenon in Connemara, where many of the locals have no involvement in tourism or interest in contributing to the visual environment; a streetscape might be marred by a neglected building, or you might find an old tractor rusting away in a scenic spot).
We stopped for a while, to look at and smell the sea, to stroll a bit, to have coffee, and to decide on where to go next. Most often we head for Kylemore, Letterfrack, and Clifden, but it had been a while since we had taken the route into Mayo, so we chose to remedy that. A short distance to Aasleagh, where we stopped to have a good look at the waterfall and watch the Eriff river as it tumbled over and squeezed between rocks on its way into Killary Harbour. Thence via Delphi, a beautiful place pocketed in mountains, and along the lonely Doolough valley with its echoes of famine tragedy, through Louisburgh, past the foot of Croagh Patrick, the site of a Christianised pagan pilgrimage, and into Westport.
Twenty years ago Westport was a grey and dismal place where it always seemed to be raining. It would be unrecognisable to anybody who maintains that image. It is now bright and colourful, bursting with life, and the fine features that were there twenty years ago -- the Octagon, the Mall, the Georgian buildings, the traditional shop fronts -- now catch the eye when once they simply merged into the general greyness. The town even seems to have negotiated new terms with the weather, and appears to be sunlit a great deal more. Indeed, the sun managed to break through the clouds for our short visit. We captured a rare prize, a parking place, strolled about, had a tasty pub lunch, and then took to the road again, back towards Leenane by a more direct route which is also scenic.
Along the south shore of Killary Harbour, past vast mariculture enterprises, and inland towards Kylemore. Kylemore Abbey is possibly the most photographed building in the west of Ireland. It is a Victorian gothic hunting lodge in a spectacular setting, and provides an image well suited for chocolate box covers or slightly difficult jigsaw puzzles. We took a short break there before continuing to one of our favourite places, the Inagh Valley -- passing between the Maumturks and the Twelve Pins, more rocks and bog and peat-black streams, a long blue-black lake, and June displays of wild iris, rhododendron, bog-cotton, fuchsia, and honeysuckle. It is a road where you are more likely to be delayed by sheep than by traffic.
Next, Recess. How can you decline the imperative in the name of the place? We took a break there.
Thence back to Oughterard, a walk by the river, dinner, and bed.
The next morning held forth the same weather promise, a cover of light cloud that might allow the sun through later. Our plan was to head south, to the shores of Galway Bay. We took the road to Costelloe, passing over high ground populated mainly by sheep and a few ponies. There are turbaries there, still being worked, and a couple of men were out footing turf. It is hard-earned fuel.
Through Costello to Carraroe, where we had people to visit. Tea and conversation in the kitchen, looking out over Greatman's Bay where we hoped to see some boating action. The traditional sailing boat in Galway Bay is known as a hooker. They are solid craft that were used for all purposes: for cargo, for fishing, for passengers. They are about 12m in length and about 3.5m in beam, invariably painted black, gaff-rigged with red sails. There are smaller versions also. Only about a dozen full-sized hookers survive, maintained because of their owners' pride in their heritage, and sailing races are an important and colourful part of the Connemara summer. We had heard that a Connemara man, living in Chicago, had built a hooker on the shore of Lake Michigan and had sailed it all they way from there towards his native place of Lettermore, just across the water from where we were. It is quite a voyage to make in what is essentially an inshore boat. It was expected to arrive that day, and we saw boats under sail heading down the bay, perhaps to meet it and escort it in. But local radio suggested that the arrival might be late, and we had more places to visit, so we moved on.
Westward, following the coast, stopping here and there at places we liked, until we got to Roundstone. The sun obliged by arriving at the same time we did. It is difficult to explain why we like Roundstone as much as we do: a picturesque harbour used by inshore fishing boats and a small number of pleasure craft, a prospect of islands and mountains; a village backed into rocky hills; a variety of buildings in divers colours, nothing discordant. But it is more than the sum of the parts: Roundstone grabs the eye and the imagination. We inspected the boats in the small harbour, had seafood chowder in Eldon's Hotel (happily re-opened after a closure last year), rambled about a bit, and just revelled in being in one of our favourite places.
Again, we chose not to head towards Clifden -- not because we have anything against Clifden, but because there was an alternative that appealed even more to us on that particular day. We headed through Toombeola to Ballynahinch, following a road between a cascading river (noted for its trout fishing) and some of south Connemara's scarce woodland. In through a fine gateway, and up the long drive into Ballynahinch Castle, formerly the home of the Martins, the great landlords of Connemara, and currently a country house hotel. It's a castle in name only, not being fortified, or even crenellated, but a manor house of character, a character that has been largely respected in its conversion into a hotel. We took a walk through the grounds, which include a large walled garden which is mainly under grass but would be great to see managed as in the past, and repaired to the bar for coffee, enjoying a little of the sense of how Ireland’s nineteenth-century aristocracy lived.
Thence back to Oughterard, a decent pub meal with a simple wine list (house red or house white -- both, fortunately, to our liking) and we retired for the night.
The following morning, prior to departure, we had our usual argument with Mary about the bill. She gives us a friends' rate that we consider too low, and we try to pay something more reasonable. We won this time because she did not have change to hand (we had, but didn't tell her). Souls rejuvenated, we headed homeward.
Connemara is a special place. It extends about 80km west of Galway city, and is about 40km from north to south. Not that the dimensions matter greatly, because the outline is very irregular (defined by a heavily-indented coastline and by lakes) and there is very little straight road. It is a landscape of mountains and hills, bogs and rocks, with relatively little fertile land, a great deal of water in mountain streams and little rivers, in some large and many small lakes, and it is a place of many islands, both marine and freshwater. Connemara has a distinctive colour palette with muted greens, greys tinged with pink, and faded browns. Large tracts of it are very thinly populated, and human activity seems not to impinge greatly on a natural landscape; this last impression is false, as the area was largely denuded of trees by people, and in many places the bogs have been cut away to leave little more than bare rock. Nevertheless, it is a landscape of great visual appeal which has exercised many a painter and photographer.
For all its beauty, Connemara did not have the capacity to support a large population, and those that lived there were generally somewhat deprived. It was seen as a wild place of wild people. One result is that the Gaelic language and traditional way of life survived better there than in many other places. In more recent times things have changed because of improved communications, industrial development, and tourism. But the past seems close in Connemara.
These are some of the reasons why Herself and I like Connemara so much. The fact that we both have been there frequently since adolescence, and have experiences to recall or re-live, also comes into it, as does a desire to be in the Gaeltacht from time to time to experience the Gaelic language and culture. We try to spend time there every year.
* * *
The commitments in Galway were all discharged by 6.00 p.m. on Thursday, and Herself and I headed west for a couple of days of R&R. Our chosen base, as often, was Oughterard, a picturesque village on the shores of Lough Corrib. The first stop was Wellfield Farmhouse, Mary and Pat's B&B. After unpacking the car, we had tea and brown bread with our hosts and caught up on the news since our last visit. We were fussed over by cats and dogs -- as if Pat's two working dogs were not enough, the young Labrador from across the road abandoned her pups in order to get a share of the attention.
Wellfield is well-located for people like us, a few hundred metres from the bustle of the busy village, close enough to allow us to walk in and, more important, back out without worrying about drinking and driving. We went into the village to seek dinner. This is one area where things have changed in the last few years. There are plenty of dining opportunities, but all of them involve fairly similar mid-market menus, satisfactory enough but not particularly interesting. Four years ago there were three superior restaurants, but two have gone and one has moved downmarket. I'm sure that this is because high Irish prices have made fine dining less affordable for visitors. We would like to have the option of having a meal more interesting than we can conveniently prepare at home, even if it involves spending a little more. After a dinner that was pleasant but not particularly memorable we took a short walk, then retired to bed.
Friday morning was overcast, but not oppressively so; the cloud cover was white rather than grey, so we could hope for the sun to break through during the day. We headed west to Maam Cross (I much prefer its Gaelic name, Teach Dóite -- literally translated as burnt house). A right turn, up through the almost empty valley, rock and bog and water, to Maam. The junction there is a decision point for tourists. One can go right and along the shores of Lough Corrib to Cong, and then either along the narrow valley of Loughnafooey or along the road between the Partry Mountains and the broad expanse of Lough Mask, all highly scenic country. Or one can go left, as we habitually do, and did this time, through the Maumturk Mountains to Leenane, at the head of the long fiord of Killary Harbour. Leenane is both picturesque and untidy (that is a common phenomenon in Connemara, where many of the locals have no involvement in tourism or interest in contributing to the visual environment; a streetscape might be marred by a neglected building, or you might find an old tractor rusting away in a scenic spot).
We stopped for a while, to look at and smell the sea, to stroll a bit, to have coffee, and to decide on where to go next. Most often we head for Kylemore, Letterfrack, and Clifden, but it had been a while since we had taken the route into Mayo, so we chose to remedy that. A short distance to Aasleagh, where we stopped to have a good look at the waterfall and watch the Eriff river as it tumbled over and squeezed between rocks on its way into Killary Harbour. Thence via Delphi, a beautiful place pocketed in mountains, and along the lonely Doolough valley with its echoes of famine tragedy, through Louisburgh, past the foot of Croagh Patrick, the site of a Christianised pagan pilgrimage, and into Westport.
Twenty years ago Westport was a grey and dismal place where it always seemed to be raining. It would be unrecognisable to anybody who maintains that image. It is now bright and colourful, bursting with life, and the fine features that were there twenty years ago -- the Octagon, the Mall, the Georgian buildings, the traditional shop fronts -- now catch the eye when once they simply merged into the general greyness. The town even seems to have negotiated new terms with the weather, and appears to be sunlit a great deal more. Indeed, the sun managed to break through the clouds for our short visit. We captured a rare prize, a parking place, strolled about, had a tasty pub lunch, and then took to the road again, back towards Leenane by a more direct route which is also scenic.
Along the south shore of Killary Harbour, past vast mariculture enterprises, and inland towards Kylemore. Kylemore Abbey is possibly the most photographed building in the west of Ireland. It is a Victorian gothic hunting lodge in a spectacular setting, and provides an image well suited for chocolate box covers or slightly difficult jigsaw puzzles. We took a short break there before continuing to one of our favourite places, the Inagh Valley -- passing between the Maumturks and the Twelve Pins, more rocks and bog and peat-black streams, a long blue-black lake, and June displays of wild iris, rhododendron, bog-cotton, fuchsia, and honeysuckle. It is a road where you are more likely to be delayed by sheep than by traffic.
Next, Recess. How can you decline the imperative in the name of the place? We took a break there.
Thence back to Oughterard, a walk by the river, dinner, and bed.
The next morning held forth the same weather promise, a cover of light cloud that might allow the sun through later. Our plan was to head south, to the shores of Galway Bay. We took the road to Costelloe, passing over high ground populated mainly by sheep and a few ponies. There are turbaries there, still being worked, and a couple of men were out footing turf. It is hard-earned fuel.
Through Costello to Carraroe, where we had people to visit. Tea and conversation in the kitchen, looking out over Greatman's Bay where we hoped to see some boating action. The traditional sailing boat in Galway Bay is known as a hooker. They are solid craft that were used for all purposes: for cargo, for fishing, for passengers. They are about 12m in length and about 3.5m in beam, invariably painted black, gaff-rigged with red sails. There are smaller versions also. Only about a dozen full-sized hookers survive, maintained because of their owners' pride in their heritage, and sailing races are an important and colourful part of the Connemara summer. We had heard that a Connemara man, living in Chicago, had built a hooker on the shore of Lake Michigan and had sailed it all they way from there towards his native place of Lettermore, just across the water from where we were. It is quite a voyage to make in what is essentially an inshore boat. It was expected to arrive that day, and we saw boats under sail heading down the bay, perhaps to meet it and escort it in. But local radio suggested that the arrival might be late, and we had more places to visit, so we moved on.
Westward, following the coast, stopping here and there at places we liked, until we got to Roundstone. The sun obliged by arriving at the same time we did. It is difficult to explain why we like Roundstone as much as we do: a picturesque harbour used by inshore fishing boats and a small number of pleasure craft, a prospect of islands and mountains; a village backed into rocky hills; a variety of buildings in divers colours, nothing discordant. But it is more than the sum of the parts: Roundstone grabs the eye and the imagination. We inspected the boats in the small harbour, had seafood chowder in Eldon's Hotel (happily re-opened after a closure last year), rambled about a bit, and just revelled in being in one of our favourite places.
Again, we chose not to head towards Clifden -- not because we have anything against Clifden, but because there was an alternative that appealed even more to us on that particular day. We headed through Toombeola to Ballynahinch, following a road between a cascading river (noted for its trout fishing) and some of south Connemara's scarce woodland. In through a fine gateway, and up the long drive into Ballynahinch Castle, formerly the home of the Martins, the great landlords of Connemara, and currently a country house hotel. It's a castle in name only, not being fortified, or even crenellated, but a manor house of character, a character that has been largely respected in its conversion into a hotel. We took a walk through the grounds, which include a large walled garden which is mainly under grass but would be great to see managed as in the past, and repaired to the bar for coffee, enjoying a little of the sense of how Ireland’s nineteenth-century aristocracy lived.
Thence back to Oughterard, a decent pub meal with a simple wine list (house red or house white -- both, fortunately, to our liking) and we retired for the night.
The following morning, prior to departure, we had our usual argument with Mary about the bill. She gives us a friends' rate that we consider too low, and we try to pay something more reasonable. We won this time because she did not have change to hand (we had, but didn't tell her). Souls rejuvenated, we headed homeward.
Nov 27th, 2006 | 03:27 PM
#5
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2006
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"Do you live in Ireland? I would be interested in knowing of the good restaurants that have closed in Oughterard."
Yes, I'm in Ireland.
I have a blank on the names of the restaurants, although we visit Oughterard most years. One was Le Blazon, a French-style place in a wonderful room overlooking the river. It has been sold, so I hope it may open again under a new proprietor.
Yes, I'm in Ireland.
I have a blank on the names of the restaurants, although we visit Oughterard most years. One was Le Blazon, a French-style place in a wonderful room overlooking the river. It has been sold, so I hope it may open again under a new proprietor.
Nov 27th, 2006 | 03:53 PM
#6
Joined: Jul 2003
Posts: 1,146
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Padraig, thank you for sharing your beautiful trip report with us. I love the Inagh valley, it's one of the best places in the world. We just saw sheep, not other humans. I did notice how nice the Lough Inagh Lodge looked. We went on and stayed 3 nights at Ballynahinch. Lough Inagh Lodge is one of those places I say to myself ," next trip". Ballynahinch was great.
Nov 27th, 2006 | 06:19 PM
#7
Joined: Mar 2004
Posts: 101
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I enjoyed your thoughtful report........One restaurant we love is just south of Oughterard,and north of the city of Galway...The White Gables in Moycullen ...We have eaten there many times and find the food and the hostess to be extraordinary!
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Apr 18th, 2008 | 10:39 PM
#11
Joined: Oct 2004
Posts: 9,737
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What a delightful trip report, Padraig! It brought back lovely memories of our family trip in March of '06. What a wonderful part of the world and how lucky you are to be able to spend time there every year! I'm struggling for words to express how touched I was by your obviously deep feelings for the area.
Thank you for pulling this up, Virgo!
Thank you for pulling this up, Virgo!
Apr 19th, 2008 | 02:22 AM
#12
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Joined: Nov 2006
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It happens that last night Herself told me that she had managed her diary so that she finishes a work assignment in Galway on a Friday morning, and has the following Monday free. Guess what we plan to do?
Sea conditions permitting, Aran is on the target list.
Sea conditions permitting, Aran is on the target list.
Apr 19th, 2008 | 04:32 AM
#13
Joined: Aug 2007
Posts: 4,109
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Virgo, thanks for bringing this up. It brings back fond memories for me. And, yes, it is as beautiful as Padraig describes. For me there is also an elusive feeling that is beyond description. Your visit will be memorable. Stop somewhere and toast all the travelers who have gone before you and who are yet to come.
Apr 20th, 2008 | 02:49 PM
#14
Joined: Jul 2003
Posts: 213
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It's such a pleasure to read that my innocent question has evoked such a warm response. I was really looking forward to our trip before, but now I feel that August cannot come quickly enough!
All I need now are some suggestions for accommodations. I'm looking for the kind of place that's not exactly a B&B and not quite a country house hotel. I'd like it to be in a beautiful setting.
Do you think it would be reasonable to base ourselves in one place for an entire week?
Thank you!
All I need now are some suggestions for accommodations. I'm looking for the kind of place that's not exactly a B&B and not quite a country house hotel. I'd like it to be in a beautiful setting.
Do you think it would be reasonable to base ourselves in one place for an entire week?
Thank you!
Apr 20th, 2008 | 04:54 PM
#15
Joined: Jun 2004
Posts: 1,647
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We are Self-catering for four nights in June, here:
http://www.theharbourmill.com/index.html
They have harbor view and courtyard view units. Located in Westport Quay, it is very near Westport House and approximately a mile from Westport Town Center.
I think you could EASILY spend a week based in this area, but it all depends on what "Must Sees" you have in mind that are out of commute range ...
Still, four nights in Westport and then move on would ALSO work ...
Bob
http://www.theharbourmill.com/index.html
They have harbor view and courtyard view units. Located in Westport Quay, it is very near Westport House and approximately a mile from Westport Town Center.
I think you could EASILY spend a week based in this area, but it all depends on what "Must Sees" you have in mind that are out of commute range ...
Still, four nights in Westport and then move on would ALSO work ...
Bob
Apr 20th, 2008 | 05:02 PM
#16
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2006
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I haven't stayed here, but it is worth considering: http://www.eldons.ie/
I have stayed here: http://www.galway.net/pages/vaughans/
Interesting, unpretentious, very good restaurant.
I have stayed here: http://www.galway.net/pages/vaughans/
Interesting, unpretentious, very good restaurant.
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