The Road to Mulranny

Gloomy drive through rain

Sparkling ride on the Greenway

Tea with alpacas

Up at 5:00 to take Grace to the airport, before heading to the docks to collect the boys arriving from Liverpool on the overnight ferry.  With five big men in the car, the boot full to capacity and bikes on the back as well as the roof, the journey from Belfast to Westport is taken at a leisurely pace, not helped by persistent rain that shows no sign of abating in spite of my assurances that Westport has a lovely microclimate and it’ll be sunny all afternoon.

After six and a half hours in the car I am not minded to start pedalling immediately, and I leave the others in Westport, where it is still a bit blustery and damp even though the microclimate is obviously doing its stuff.  By the time I get to Mulranny, and onto the bike, the final bit of mist is lifting off the hills, the sun is breaking through, and my spirits lift at the wonderful views of Clew Bay and the islands.  The Great Western Greenway is over 25 miles of old railway line, with a gentle gradient and spit-new tarmac.  With a nice westerly breeze on my tail, I roll back to meet the others past rugged boggy moorland, interspersed with tunnels of purple rhododendron, brackish ponds and hillside streams laden from the recent rains.

We meet up within 10 miles, but manage to get separated in no time at all, before regrouping at the Dutch art gallery cafe where Nigel seems more interested in the three alpacas than the tea and scones.  He pronounces them a singing trio named Bananallama.  Someone fatally appreciates this attempt at humour and he dissolves into giggles over his own joke.

It’s more of a haul getting back to Mulranny, but Dave is very taken by the wild orchids, which gives rise to a number of stops to take botany photos.

An excellent start to the trip.  The boys had nearly 5 hours of dry pedalling and are in high spirits as we head for McLoughlins for supper.

Achill