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There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothingAlfred Wainwright
The force of the wind on the Beaufort scale is nine, a little tree knocked over on some balcony in Galway. I prepare sandwiches and pour coffee into tourist mugs. We put on hoodies, jackets, hats, I take gloves, even it is May. Dauntless sneakers are ready for the adventure. The songs by Polish band T.Love sound in the car, so memories mix with the N59 road, and beige hills with newborn sheep hug their mums on the fields. Long before Clifden, we turn right to the Connemara National Park. The direction is three beautiful beaches.
Space at Renvyle Beach seems like whole ours. The wind blows and takes off our hoods, and lifts the sand on a half meter. I start to run, then dance on the light beige carpet. I speed up and leap over the streams in which the cobalt Atlantic enters the beach. Bright green grasses on the dunes. I keep running, and I feel that the huge graphite rocks in front of me are my home. In their hollows, I find slightly jelly white seaweed. Maybe I can make a salad with it? Space seems to be endless, and so does the storm that smoothes the skin on my face. In the car, we eat delicious ciabattas from a French bakery in Galway. Ford is already purring and climbs up the narrow road, then down and up again, just like in a cartoon. The signpost on the crossroad points to Tully, which turns out to be a nice village. Although everything is closed. But after the pandemic, we will stop here for dinner.
Before we get out of the car, we stare through the window at the Mweelrea Mountains in Mayo, then look up at the impressive Benchoon and Garraun. The beach seems so long. We notice some couple disappear into the distance with a running joyfully dog.
We continue along the coast and after ten minutes we reach Killary Fjord Blueway. Sheep graze on the hills next to the beach. The wind rocks the car. There are dramatic landscapes ahead of us, as in a movie about discovering new lands. Huge rocks emerge from the water, one of them looks like a tower. The rocky coast around the beach makes for an attractive spot for snorkeling. Killary Fjord is sixteen kilometers long and forms the natural border between County Galway and Mayo. The turquoise of the ocean glistens on the background of foggy sky, and the Atlantic is crystalline.
There are so many beaches on Connemara, and each has its own individual character with different types of sand, rocks and an infinite variety of small shells.
We touch the heart of Connemara and the views are getting more and more fantastic. So, we stop by the roadside to admire a wild island in the mountain lake. The wind is still gusty and knocks over small objects unscrupulously. However, the sun is emerging from behind the clouds, and the colors refresh their magnetism.
This is not the first time I explore Ireland in the stormy weather. I used to visit Dingle and Sligo in the pouring rain. And once, when we didn’t have a car, we took several kilometers to walk to the mountains from the town. Our umbrellas broke on the way. But although the rain flooded all the views, it was one of the most wonderful trips. Maybe because in bad weather we always go beyond ourselves, and when we did it, we can experience amazing happiness. So, in Ireland, I have learned that there is no bad weather, only unsuitable clothing. Just remember to have sandwiches, chocolate or bars, and water. Also, a thermos with hot tea or a mug with coffee will be nice.