I have just returned from a wonderful saunter down memory lane, wedged with hedgerows of fiery orange montbretia, purple loosestrife, globe thistle, fuchsia, Marguerite daisies and the most amazing windswept reeds in Cleggan, Connemara. I was staying with a friend who has a lovely cottage that stands surveying the rocky island bays of Inishbofin, and Omey. The stretches of white grainy sand are rugged, the rocks clamber across salty pools, and jostle in the wind and rain, and all was swept into place by Storm Betty. We ventured out in the bright patches and took refuge in our books and electric blankets when exhausted by the glory of it all.

A perfect visit.

Thirty years ago, we used to go to Cleggan Farm every year at either Christmas or Summer when the children were small. It stood on Cleggan Head, surveying the wild Atlantic Ocean. We would put the children on our backs and explore the 12 bens, take them to Dogs Bay Beach, have mussels in Letterfrack, run back from Omey Island with the tide lapping at our ankles, explore Inishbofin in sun, rain and fog.

It has barely changed at all. There is more carparking in Cleggan (a good thing; I remember always peering out between cars crammed up in the hedges or right in front of people’s doors in order to cross the road), and Ballynahinch Castle has a beautiful new walled garden full of gorgeous herbaceous borders, and strutting little inquisitive stone hares. There is a beautiful brand new greenway which is a spur from the Clifden Galway Greenway. We didn’t go on it…but I hear it calling me.

My friend drove me all around my old haunts. We visited Renvyle, toured around Tully mountain, the Inagh Valley, Ross Harbour (which is now all beautifully renovated homes) and lunched on excellent mussels and chowder in Letterfrack. Oliver’s in Cleggan where we ate in the evening hasn’t changed either and I had a beautiful fish platter for my dinner between Betty’s power cuts. Fortunately, they didn’t remember the incident during the English Soccer World Cup when we were watching the match there. Ireland were playing England and when the English scored I leapt up and cheered…in deafening silence. I have learned my lesson since.

My visit was just a day and a half. It was a four hour drive, but it was well worth it. Mrs Google guided me to Connemara through the back roads of Cavan, Leitrim, Mayo and then down the N59 through the lakes and shoreline of Killary Harbour. We live in the most beautiful country ever so it will be a joy to return next Spring.

However, before that…next week, we go to France for three weeks so you may look forward to the Brittany Chronicles! A Bientot!