Why you’ll be lost for words on Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way
The strange, savage beauty of the West Coast is best appreciated by driving this 2600 km coastal route. You have to see it to believe it.
There is nothing quite like going on a road trip with a childhood friend. There’s a simple joy in the laughter, the easy conversations, the in-jokes, the reminiscences, and the companionable silences. It’s good at the best of times but doing it in on the west coast of Ireland takes things to a new level.
We are somewhere north of the Cliffs of Moher, on the slow road to Galway, when we crest another rise and I slow the car to look at the panorama that has unfolded. There’s an ivy-strangled stone ruin of a farm cottage nearby, flat, steely Galway Bay in the distance, and below us a collage of fields sprinkled with cattle, sheep and kegs of Guinness (the locals would have us believe these are hay bales wrapped in black plastic but we know better).
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