Have you ever wondered what it would be like to travel in a campervan? Although we have been long-time campers of the ‘pitch a tent’ variety, we had never toured in a campervan and we were curious. We were fortunate to borrow one (thanks, Alan), a 1991 left-hand drive VW model LT28 called Spuds, complete with cooker, fridge, pull-out bed, toilet and shower.

Spuds was parked in Ballyshannon where we were welcomed by Bernie and Michael (Alan’s parents). The following morning was atmospherically misty – damp with shades of grey as the three of us (Caoimhin, our dog, Rolo and I) set off in Spuds, our home for a week or so. We had camped in a tent around Donegal last year, dressed in jumpers and jackets whilst the rest of the country sweltered in a July heatwave, so this time, we pointed Spuds south towards Mayo with the hope of better weather and the lure of places that we had never visited before. Driving Spuds through Sligo and on westwards through Ballina, Caoimhin got acquainted with left hand driving. The views were great from such a high perch and the scenery unrolled in front of us like a painted canvas, from mountains and sea, through green and mainly flat farm fields with rivers and lakes.  At Crossmolina, the lampposts both coming into and leaving the village had posters on them with REPENT in large letters. We kept going on to Belmullet.

A visit to the tourist office in Belmullet left us armed with maps and advice from Christina, who was extremely helpful and enthusiastic. She recommended a swim in the tidal pools in the town but when we saw a couple of blue-tinged children shivering at the edge, we changed our minds about a dip in the wind ruffled waters. A phone app (Park4the night) told us of places to park the campervan overnight without issue. On our first night, we parked on the quays in Belmullet overlooking the water and some dry docked boats.. The bed in Spuds was extremely comfortable and we woke early to the cry of seabirds. Curiosity bought a fisherman over to chat in the morning – wondering where we were from, where we were going. He lamented the demise of Irish fishing and the rising price of everything.  Maybe it was the sunny yellow colour of Spuds or the left hand drive with Swedish plates or maybe it was the sight of Rolo bounding out of the back or looking out the window, but people smiled and laughed and waved at us all the time….or just the natural friendliness of Mayo people It was a happy van⭐

After a substantial breakfast at An Builin Blasta, where the small breakfast was a huge fry-up with pots of tea and plates of bread, we left Belmullet and headed around the Mullet peninsula. We trekked the Cross Loop, a glorious short walk where ‘scenery and legend meet’ according to the mayo tourist website and honestly, it was true. This was a mixture of beach walking, through sand dunes, past ancient graveyards, farmland and lakeside with carpets of wildflowers (the smell of the flowering thyme was gorgeous). There were views of Inishglora, the little island where legend has it that the bodies of the Children of Lir were buried. We camped by Cross Lake and watched swans drift by just before sunset (which was just a little surreal in the context of the Children of Lir who were turned into swans by their evil stepmother😮). Mayo County Council have done a wonderful job in installing public toilets (portaloos) along most of the walks/beaches and there were picnic tables even in fairly isolated places. Part of the Cross Loop trail was signed as ‘the most westerly parkrun’ – you know that you are on the edge.

Blacksod Bay at the southern end of the Mullet Peninsula is synonymous with tragedy down the ages – lives lost from currachs, fishing boats, Armada ships and more recently, the rescue helicopter R116. So much tragedy in such a beautiful isolated place. After a tour of the lighthouse, we parked up the van and watched a dozen dolphins somersaulting in the water. When the tide came in, we were so close to the lapping water that it almost felt like we were on a boat. There were beautiful beaches on Mullet, Elly Bay was long and white and blue flagged and Tra Mullach Rua was also lovely. At the north end of the peninsula, we hiked the Erris Head Loop walk with its boardwalks, rough paths and stunning sea views. The wind was light on a benign July day, calm with the bleating of sheep – so different to most of the time when this area is battered by Atlantic storms.

Sunshine was scarce (despite all talks of a heatwave) along the North Mayo coast but there was a beautiful quality to the light – the clouds on the water made so many shimmering shades of silver and grey – and the sand on the many beaches was so ghostly pale. We camped out high, on the bog on Benwee head with a mesmerising vista spread before us of sea and inlets and the interplay of light and shade. There were the piping pipits flying among the bog cotton and the back-breaking work of the bog- all just small holdings working by hand.

We swam in cold clear water at Rinroe Beach, a really beautiful spot with ample grassy patches for free camping and a dozen potable loos and lots of sheep ambling by…..but nothings else so come prepared with food and supplies. We drove on from there through remote wild countryside with bog and sheep and scarcely a person to be seen. At the Ceide Field centre, we were enthralled by the history hidden beneath our feet, the ancient world’s oldest and most extensive field system. The centre was very informative although the midges were out in force on the outdoor walking tour- it was difficult to concentrate when blizzards (no exaggeration) of insects were attacking any exposed skin.

We parked up at Downpatrick Head, a turbulent spot with crashing waves and views of the impressive sea stack, Fort Briste (Broken Fort), the spot that St Patrick is supposed to have banished the snakes to(the only problem is that Fort Briste broke away from the land about eight hundred years after Patrick’s death!) We admired the the sculpture around the surging blowhole – the installation was a railing and effective safety barrier but made to look like organ pipes playing the symphony of the sea – innovative, effective and a great example of art and engineering. The clifftop was carpeted in spongy vivid green moss and when the sun went down, a statue of St Patrick was silhouetted against the darkening sky. Again it was the light, shade and the cloud that added to the mystery and beauty of the area.

On Sunday, July 17 the sun shone for the first time all week and it was blissful. We visited Ross Beach, a blue flag beach near Kilala, and Kilcummin Back Strand, a huge expanse of sandy beach with cliff top views and crystal-clear water. The beach was almost empty(its so big) but the narrow roads and small parking area was pretty congested on this fine July Sunday. This area is also where the French landed in 1798. Then on to Kilala to watch the All Ireland hurling final in Johnny Lynn’s pub which was busy with people who seemed to be dodging the sun rather than interested in watching the match. After a few drinks (to celebrate Limerick’s win over the mighty Cats) and a tasty meal in The Arch, we stayed in Kilala parked by the quay. and that is the advantage of the campervan, having a comfortable place to sleep anywhere. Kilala is a picturesque little place with its round tower, harbour, quayside, cathedral and old stone buildings.

Our final night in the camper was spent in Enniscrone which was buzzing with holiday makers, surfers and kids getting swimming lessons, strollers and ice-cream eaters. What a beach with its long stretch of sand and dunes and stunning cliff walks. We booked a seaweed bath in the in the old Edwardian bathhouse with some original fittings and a wooden steam-box and were so relaxed afterwards that even walking was a challenge.

We thoroughly enjoyed our week in Spuds – and so did Rolo🐶. Its a fantastic way to travel – it offers comfort and flexibility and pets can be taken on hols as well. We stayed in a different place each night from beach to bog, to pier side, headland and lakeside, all free camping so easy on the pocket.. We might have stayed in a fee-paying campsite some of the nights but there weren’t any. It was so easy to move – unlike tent camping which involves a lot more work when packing up. We also found that sitting in the back of the van with the doors open, we had wonderful views and we could park the van at different angles to shelter from the wind or take advantage of the view. Sometimes, sitting in a tent can be claustrophobic but there was a great sense of light in the camper. There were curtains and blinds to pull down for privacy and/or to block the early morning light. The disadvantage is that if you want to just go to the shop or a small excursion, the camper comes with you but a lot of people travel in campervans with bicycles on board which is a good idea. Some of the campervans we saw were big and unwieldy and had everything in them. We’re sold on the idea of a campervan but we would like something small, nifty, not too expensive – and preferably electric! That’s the wish-list

But the real star of the Odyssey was North Mayo, such a stunning, unspoilt area of Ireland which deserves to be more visited.

With a bit of luck, we’ll be back😍

Last week on the last day of June, we waited on the pier in Kilmore Quay for the ferry to take us to Great Saltee Island, the bigger of two small islands off the Wexford coast known as the Saltees and a haven for birds. it didn’t feel like summer with no trace of blue amid the greys of the sky. This trip has become an annual summer pilgrimage for us and one of the highlights of our year (despite all our travels😀).

The small ferry boat had room for about a dozen passengers, some weighted down with large camera equipment but all squashed together with water splashing over the stern and pooling around our feet. There is no island pier or jetty so we had to transfer to a little dingy with an outboard motor to get onto the island. The morning was cool and the dingy motor was sluggish and slow to start. While the young crewman pulled the throttle, becoming more and more frustrated, a curious seal welcomed us by swimming and diving around the boat. A few meters away, gannets fell from the sky to catch wriggling fish in their beaks. Eventually the engine coughed and spluttered into life and getting from the dingy to land involved rolling up trousers, taking off shoes and wading through seaweed to the little beach.

The island is privately owned by the Neale family who have a holiday residence there – the only house on the island – but this is unoccupied for most of the year. A few steps up from the beach is a large marble plaque signed by the late Michael the First, Prince of the Saltees and a colourful character who bought the islands in the 1940’s, keeping a vow that he made to his mother as a ten year old that he would one day own the islands. There is even a large stone throne on the island dedicated to his mother. Day visitors are welcome but all visitors are requested to be off the island by 4pm.

There’s a special atmosphere on this island, a wildness and a natural beauty with wildflowers, ferns and heathers and of course, the main attraction – the birds. These are breeding grounds for lots of species but there’s something about the puffins that makes them a star attraction – maybe its their brightly coloured beaks, or their comical padding as they stroll about or their curiosity. They were as interested in us as we were in them as they sat outside their burrows on the cliffs facing out to sea. The sandeels were plentiful and we watched the silvery flash in rainbow beaks as parent puffins returned to feed their young, their short wings flapping furiously. The puffins are mainly silent birds although there were hundreds of them on the cliff.

The same cannot be said of the Gannet colony. On bare cliff rocks with the heavy stench of sulphur from bird poop, thousands of Gannets squawked and fought for space and mates and family in a frenzied free-for-all. We watched two large birds lock beaks whilst bystanders screeched encouragement and then joined in like a pub brawl. Others ignored the melee and twined pale yellow necks in intimate embraces. A lone Shag stood still and tall, black against the rocks and sky, immune to the chaos and behind her, a baby shag peeped out beneath a rock.

The chicks of the Black-Backed Gulls were adorable – speckled furry balls with black pebble eyes. They hopped along on lichen covered rocks among the swaying grasses. The Mother gulls stood nearby, super-alert, screeching at us with flapping wings. One swooped above my head almost touching my hair, warning me to stay away from a nest which was practically on the rough path. I obeyed the order and detoured quickly😮

Overhead the sky was dizzy with wings with gannets gliding, razorbills flapping, guillemots whirring, kittiwakes swooping. We sat on rocks and watched all the entertaining antics of these seabirds, munching our egg(!) sandwiches. All too soon, it was time to make our way back to the boat, to roll up out trousers and wade out to the dingy for the return trip to Kilmore Quay. The allotted time of four hours on the island had flown by as usual…..flown on wings🤣.

Even if you don’t know your razorbill from from guillemot, or your cormorant from your shag, this is a wonderful trip. The return boat trip costs €30 per person. There is no shelter, food or cafes on the island so it is essential to bring water, some food, some warm clothes, sunscreen and waterproofs. Bring a bird book and a pair of binoculars and prepare to be captivated, entertained and educated in this VERY special place,