Campervans set sail for new stop-off in glorious Conamara
Socraíonn veaineanna campála cúrsa ar ionad stad nua i gConamara na háilleachta
The visibility is at its vivid best, the views stunning to the Maam Turks and the Twelve Bens. You can almost see them sipping their coffee above in Clifden.
I could take you the scenic route to this latest and most welcome addition to stop off spots in Conamara, or we could go an modh díreach and get straight to the point.
Oileanra, at the rear of the Tigh Lee tavern, in Lettermullen in the heart of the Conamara Gaeltacht offers unrivalled scenery and solitude with views out across the Atlantic as far as the eye can see to the Maam Turks and the 12 Bens. For €25 you can have your electrical hook up, waste disposal, freshwater points and free wi-fi.
That’s the review for those who live their lives in the social media scrolldom of thirty second soundbites. For those who prefer the slow road, read on.
Out of Galway city – which by now everyone knows is not motorhome friendly – beyond Spiddal and out past Aer Aran, TG4 and Radio na Gaeltachta you know you are on the right road. You are heading for Maumeen, Lettermullen, which is technically an island on the furthermore reaches of the west coast. This is the Wild Atlantic Way at its best. You can’t go too far astray as it’s ultimately a dead end, and you’ll simply have to turn around. Next stop Boston.
One note of caution. This network of islands is linked across the causeways by sturdy but narrow and lengthy bridges. It’s tricky if you meet a bus or have a larger motorhome for two vehicles to pass. There is an informal arrangement, it seems, of give-way to the vehicle that has ‘possession’ of the bridge – but take it from me that it doesn’t always work that way when it comes to some less mannerly SUVs visiting for the summer…
Oileanra is signposted on the edge of the road and is located at the rear of Tigh Lee, the local tavern which also serves a basic menu of mostly burger and pasta dishes. Photos on the wall hark back to its glory days as Ostán na nOileán.
This new motorhome spot started out life as a sauna by the sea, then came the popular seaweed hot tubs with the motorhome facilities a relatively recent addition. Along with some world class scenery thrown in for good measure it is an attractive package overall. The hedgerows are bursting with fluorescent-coloured wildflowers, a solitary curlew rises out of the mix of heather, rock and low-tide shallow pools, lets out its distinctive shrill call before it circles and seeks out an even quieter spot. A heron holds its ground, less nervous of its new neighbours.
The services for motorhomes are simple but adequate. There are four spots out front with electric hook up. Further to the rear a new area has been opened up by gouging out bog and breaking through rock to create about 12 more spaces on an ad hoc basis. This area boasts far more scenic sea views. The visibility is at its vivid best. We can almost see them having their coffee above the road in Clifden. In this weather (if you don’t require EHU) these are the best spots for sure, but it might be a different story to be so exposed if the weather took a figary.
The tariffs are more than fair, €25 for the full-service spots with EHU, waste disposal, freshwater points and wi-fi. It’s just a tenner for the park-up alone. There is a shower, but only one cubicle, which also serves the hot tubs. There’s also a popular coffee hut for your convenience.
There’s a good mix of vehicles along with Irish, English, German and French, the word is obviously spreading. I’m not surprised. This is a grand place to spend a few days. The locals are friendly. They natter away to themselves as Gaeilge but will gladly break off into English or bi-lingual banter, whichever you prefer. It’s lovely to hear the language spoken as this sparsely populated area clings on to its culture by its fingernails.
Out walking the dog on Saturday morning, there’s a woman in a yellow vest going along the verge picking up litter. She’s originally from here and comes back for the summers. Like everyone else she’s shocking friendly. Fills me in on the festival so as I don’t miss out and rather decently tells me about a lovely sheltered sandy beach just up off a fork in the road that’s safe for a dip. You’d never come on it without her tip off, that’s the sort they are here. Decent out.
The festival she speaks of is Féile Chuigéal. Each August holiday weekend they gather to test their mettle and sea faring skills in races for currachs and Galway Hookers. It’s a sight to behold. Everyone gathers on the shore to egg on their Gaeltacht gladiators. A shout goes up from a burly woman on the jetty, ‘Would ye put yer back into Connolly for god’s sake!!’ Connolly it seems to me needs no encouragement; he’s pulling like a dog into the onshore wind. The woman’s good-humoured admonishment is greeted by a roar of delight from the assembled onlookers. The whole parish is out it seems for the biggest weekend of the year.
What was once a lifeline for trade between the mainland and the Aran Islands, vital exchanges of goods, turf and fish is now pursued for tradition and clan rivalry. The bragging rights will be celebrated on Sunday night in Tigh Lee to the soundtrack of Glór na dTonn belting out the tunes. For how much longer it’s not sure, as by all accounts the numbers are dwindling and it’s hard to keep the young people interested… I grab an uachtair reoite, a 99 from the ice cream van, and relish the moment, as a vanquished team from one of the currachs, muscled and tanned, tease out how they lost it on the turn. Next up are the Galway Hookers and that’s a sight to behold as the stiff breeze fills their colourful sails.
The team at Oileanra, Edel, Olivia and Noel, are vigilant, but in a relaxed and easy going way, always on hand to help with a friendly smile. The place itself is a work in progress with plans for more electric points and so on.
On a fine day it’s worth staying there for the views alone, the wildflowers in the hedgerow, the chance of a curlews call and a 99 from an ice-cream van, as you gaze out over Conamara and all its summer charms… safe to say we’ll be back, even if we have to bring our rain coats next time.
