After a very nice family trip to the Riviera and the Mercantour National Park in the south of France it was back to more familiar landscapes for me again. As I still had a week left before I had to return to work I decided to head to Connemara for a four day break just a day after returning home.
First a few words on the France trip. We flew into Nice and enjoyed the delights of this beautiful vibrant city for a couple of days before hiring a car and enjoying the delights of the wonderful mountain villages and mountain scenery of the Mercantour National Park. Our hotel in Nice was right by the airport but the new tram to the city centre makes getting around really easy. One of the highlights for me was getting up each morning and running along the wonderful Promenade des Anglais at dawn before going for a refreshing swim in the warm waters. It was a wonderful way to start each day. We drove up into the surrounding hills and saw several villages perched atop rock bluffs and exploring their myriad convoluted alleys and little shops was a delight. Personally though I found them a little too touristy and I preferred the slightly down at heel charm of Gilette, St Martin Vesubie and Sospel more. People lived in these dark alleys and it was an authentic and charming experience to explore these places. We got a terrific thunderstorm on our second night and morning in the mountains and this created some difficulty in driving as rockfall and some landslides occurred. At one point we just pulled over off the road during a particularly torrential spell of rain and while waiting some spatters of mud and water started to hit the window of the car as a new rivulet of run off started. Thankfully I was able to move the car out of the way and I feared it was just the precursor of a much bigger slip but it came to nothing and soon the weather cleared and we were back in Mediterranean weather once again. It did mean however that the following day out access to a high mountain road where the full glory of the highest in the park could be enjoyed was still blocked by a landslide. At St Martin Vesubie I went for a run up through the village and along a trail to above the town before returning into the village and back to our accommodation and it was a bit surreal to realize that some of what I had run I had walked a couple of years before as part of the Gr52A route. That time I was completely enchanted by the autumn colour in the forests and I had hoped that Margaret would get to see this for herself on this trip but I guess we were too early. Still it gives us an excuse to return.
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The wonderful Promenade des Anglais in Nice |
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who is going to be top cat |
CONNEMARA
Friday October 18th;
I must be getting old. My enthusiasm for another trip was not great as I guess i was still a little fatigued after the French trip and the weather for the weekend was, while okay, not riviera standsrds either. I prevaricated during the morning as to whether I would go or not. Then I oscillated between a hotel, hostel or camping stay until finally deciding to take my trusty Terra Nova Voyager tent and head to the wonderful Clifden Eco Beach campsite. A flurry of last minute packing meant it was nearly 12.30 by the time I finally left for the long (265 kilometre) drive into the wild west. Heavy downpours marked the first hour of the trip but as I got further beyond Limerick then it became much much better and suddenly I was really looking forward to the trip.
The long drive was uneventful and eventually I pulled in to the wild and wonderful campsite that as the name suggests is right beside a beautiful beach. Once I had checked in and my home was sorted I wasted no time in setting off on a run but it was still almost 17.30 by the time I began. Of course sods law meant that I almost immediately got drenched by a rogue shower which, considering it was just 11 or 12 degrees anyway meant it was while before I warmed up. I ran along the quiet lane right to the end of the headland and around a lake before retracing my route to the tent. It was a little longer than I had thought (over 16 kilometres) and it was getting quite dim by the time I got back but it felt great to be out and active in this wild and wonderful place.
Saturday October 19th;
One of the major attractions of Connemara is its mountains and today I planned is doing one of the finest walks in the country. The Owenglin Horseshoe is a big round in the Twelve Bens that takes in six main summits as well as a few other subsidiary tops so it is not to be taken lightly. The forecast for today was for rain in the morning before a clear in the afternoon. It had rained quite heavily during the night and there were still lots of showers on the go as I drove to the start of the route. I put on the full raingear and was on the move by 10.15. I opted to do the route in a clockwise direction today and as I had parked near the quarry at the end of the lane I was very shortly on the sodden boggy ground. The lower flatter ground was running with water but once I reached the steeper slopes heading towards the crest of the broad ridge it became easier to find better underfoot conditions. Once I reached the ridge new vistas opened up and to the west Tully mountain and Diamond Hill looked stunning . To make things even better, the weather was showing signs of improving as well. Some showers still dotted about but I stayed predominantly dry. The tops were mostly free from cloud as well so I was able to enjoy these wonderful mountain views throughout.
First up in the way of main tops comes Maumonght. This is up over 600 metres but has a big feel as low ground lies in all directions except east. In that direction three more mountains stood proud before the cloud capped Benbaun provided the turning point. The dropship and consequent climbs are substantial so by the time I reached the summit of Benbaun I had climbed over 1000 metres. One rather sad encounter I had was with a blind sheep on the summit of Benfree. It stood facing me as I approached before fleeing uncertainly in random, sometimes circular bursts. I could see its milky eyes and I didn't fancy its chances given the nature of the terrain and of course the approaching winter. On a more positive note the weather continued to improve and the odd ray of sunshine added to the glory of the views. After Benbaun I descended to the low gap below Benfree not and enjoyed a bite to eat in this wonderful spot. The true rugged majesty of these mighty little mountains is fully realised here and I believe that metre for metre there is nothing to compare with The Bens in these islands.
After my repast I climbed to the rugged rocky convoluted ridge and here the full extent of that other great round on these hills the Glencoaghan Horseshoe is fully revealed. On top of all that there views south over Benlettery and beyond to Roundstone Bog and the chaotic mix of lake, sea and bog near Carna was stunning. One final big drop and climb saw me on Bengower before I dropped, turned and climbed over Bengliniskey before descending easily down to the road and back to the car. The sun had long since won the battle for supremacy and it was now after crisp beautiful autumn day. I arrived back at the car quite delighted with my day. Such a quality outing had made the long journey well worth the effort.
I returned to the campsite and despite the lateness in the year I decided to chance a dip in the sea. Despite it being a chilly 12 degrees I was hopeful that the sea still had some residual hear from the summer...I was wrong. I managed only a few paces into the chill waters before my legs started to pain so an ignominious and rapid retreat ensued. I guess the sea will still be there next July.
Sunday October 20th;
Today was supposed to be the best weather day of the weekend so I decided to go for a cycle. Mind you it was a little bit of a disappointment to emerge to less than a blue sky morning and some rain was still to be seen and there was a stiff chilly breeze. My plan was to head through Cleggan, onto Letterfrack before pedaling through the wonderful Inagh Valley and returning via Clifden. If I was feeling super good I might extend the trip by including Roundstone and Ballyconeely. I put on plenty of clothes and I set off into the wild countryside along the damp quiet lanes. After Cleggan I turned inland and after passing a lake, beyond which the mountains looked great, I joined the main road and turned towards Letterfrack. It was at times tough going when I was into the wind but I was in no hurry and I was enjoying the ever wilder scenery as I went. Beyond the chocolate box pretty Kylemore Abbey and lake I turned into the incomparable Inagh Valley which runs between the Twelve Bens and the Maumturk Mountains. I was really looking forward to this section and it was made all the sweeter as the wind was now at my back.
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If you are going to go for a cycle it might as well be somewhere like this |
The mountains were at times getting a good drenching from frequent showers and they looked all the more spectacular for that. I enjoyed the entire passage and eventually I reached the main road again and turned for Clifden. As the last section had been down wind I wasn't feeling too bad so I decided to head for Roundstone and so extend the trip. By the time I reached the pretty seaside village I was perhaps regretting my enthusiasm but a nice coffee and chocolate biscuit eased the hardship. I wasn't feeling too bad when I recommenced and the wild open land and sea views were delightful. At least that was until I got about half way to Ballyconneely when I once again turned into the wind and my fatigue was back in force as I struggled to make headway. I was into the wind most of the way back and it is fair to say that I was well and truly spent by the time I eventually reached the campsite. It had taken me 4 hours 40 minutes (including breaks) to complete the 62 miles and there had been some 800 metres of ascent. I was a quiet boy for the rest of the evening and after a shower it was straight into my sleeping bag for a long sleep.
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The GPS died. |
Monday October 21st;
I was heading home today but before the long drive I wanted to get one more hillwalk in. A few hours on the Maumturks would fit the bill nicely. It was a gorgeous morning and the wonderful landscape was looking its splendid best as I drove to the carpark below Mauméan. The route I opted for was to climb the section between Mauméan and Maumahoge which traverses the highest in the range, the rather oddly named Binn idir an dá Log. I left the car shortly after 10 am and headed up the easy track towards the pass. In my rush to leave home I had forgotten to bring a lock for my bike so I felt it was vulnerable to being taken as it was just tied onto the rack on the back of the car. I tried to dismiss my fears but they continued to nag me throughout. Aside from that the outing was great. The long steep pull to Binn Chaonaigh (633 metres) seemed to go on and on. Just when you are sure the top is near you crest a steep bit and more is revealed. That said, when you finally reach the large flat area at the top the effort is so well worth it. The ground is now wonderfully rocky and the views aren't bad either. Across the Inagh Valley the Bens looked great but there is so much more to see. Lough Corrib stretched into the distance in the west and to the north Joyce Country and the Mayo mountains look wonderful. To the south the silvered sea stretched to infinity and Carna and Roundstone still looked great. The way ahead is rather serpentine and after a 100 metre drop the ridge rises gradually until finally you reach the wild summit of Binn idir dá Log.
I didn't delay and I took a direct line northwest to the easier ground far below and then I crossed the boggy ground until I reached the road. This I followed for the few kilometres back to the car. I had myself completely convinced that my bike would be gone so I was delighted to see everything was as I left it when I arrived. I sat in the sunshine and enjoyed my lunch before setting off on the long journey home. It had been a fitting end to the trip.
Just about 11 kilometres 860 metres ascent in 3 hours.