Day 50: Renvyle Campsite to Killary Harbour Fjord (12.3 miles) & Day 51: Renvyle Campsite to Letterfrack (8.3 miles). All on the Connemara Loop.

I slept in till 8am on Sunday. Tim managed to get up and go out to the loo, slam Minty's door a couple of times and get back into bed without waking me. I was dead to the world. This is because I was 1) really quite tired because of all the early mornings and 2) I just sleep more soundly when Tim's around. Clearly my brain just goes, "Oh Tim's here. If anything goes wrong, he'll fix it." This is because that's generally what happens. Today he took his leave and went back to the UK. I miss him already - even though I haven't broken anything yet.

On Sunday, though, he was still around and a little bit of me really didn't want to leave the cosiness of Minty to go for a walk. The walk out of the campsite nearly finished me off - all up a very steep hill out onto a road that steeply rose even higher. My calves and ankles weren't really awake enough for that kind of carry on. It was a nice road though because there was barely a car on it and those are the roads I like the best. I walked into Tully and further on to Tully Cross before turning left and going downhill for the first time. It was a relatively narrow road and you couldn't see over the hedges initially.

The weather was very pleasant - overcast but warm. The road was fairly quiet and meandered gently until the sea came into view. It then followed the coastline as it rose and fell for many miles. I quite like the hilly roads because they present a challenge and that keeps my mind occupied as I walk.

The real interest began when I turned inland at Glassillaun toward two large lakes. The first, Lough Muck (no, seriously that's its name!) was my favourite. The road curled down into the valley and ran directly beside it.

The water was still and surrounded by large imposing rock-laden steep hills. It was entirely empty aside from one small school house  - although at the exit it did join with a higher road that had a few houses. It was a magical place. The only people there were a couple of cyclists, who whizzed by, a single bus driver who'd pulled his empty bus over to have a little break and me. I had shed my fleece as it had become so warm and before I left the peace of the valley, I sat on a tiny wall to have a little chocolate break and drink some water. Far in the distance a solitary bike slowly squeaked along. It was an old fashioned high-nelly bike with an older man dressed in a wax jacket, a flat cap and thigh-high waders. His knees bowed out to allow for movement in the wellies. He must've been passing out with the heat! "Lovely day," he said as he passed by on his way. I imagine he was going fishing although he didn't have a rod but I suppose he could just have been dressed for the Irish weather.

If I'm honest, I didn't want to leave this enchanted place. What ever was around the next bend couldn't live up to the tranquility of it. But  on I trekked.

The next lake along, Lough Fee, was far bigger and although it was beautifully picturesque, the fact that the road often veered away from it and a fence and marshy ground separated me from its shores meant that the experience of walking by it wasn't as intense or satisfying.  Or maybe I just felt bereft having left the magic shore of Lough Muck.

Soon the road took me away form the lakes and toward the N59 again. I played a sort of leap-frog game with a  German couple on bikes. They'd pass me and wave then they'd pull over to look at the view and I'd pass and then they'd pass again. The man of the couple likened us to the tortoise and the hare. But in this case when we got to the N59, the hares took off and left me in their dust!

The N59 was, as expected, horribly busy and I was stepping off it to allow the two passing lanes of traffic navigate the narrow bends, more often than I'd like. I knew I wasn't too far from the end of my walk so I just kept my head down and ploughed on.

The rusty post of the Wild Atlantic Way marker at the viewpoint at Killary Harbour signalled the end of my walk. I'd been here twice in the last few days and still its rugged grandeur took my breath away. It may be Ireland's only fjord but I think that's because when it was formed, Slartibartfast looked on his creation and figured, "I can't do better!"

I waited by the wishing tree for Tim to arrive in Minty. It was lunch time and I was hungry.

*

The campsite at Renvyle is the best one I've stayed at and I'm sure that that is another reason for the fact that it was 8 O'Clock before I woke up on Monday morning. We had to leave by 12 and the plan was that I'd get off walking early and that Tim would pack up and meet me later in the morning in Letterfrack. It was only about an 8-mile walk and I didn't anticipate that it would take more than a few hours. We'd driven the route the previous day so I knew what to expect. Most of that section of the Connemara Loop was high up in the hills on narrow little roads. When we drove it we didn't pass a single other vehicle so I was looking forward to the quiet and the undulating hills.

I left just after 9 am, exiting the campsite the opposite way of the day before. The road ran along the coast to Renvyle village before hanging a left and climbing steadily upwards into the hills. The grey drizzle that had forced me into a raincoat was little solace for the warmth of the day. The higher I climbed the worse the visibility got and soon I realised I was walking through low-lying cloud that shrouded the hills. The little roads happily ran up and down and zigzagged back and forth as I walked on. A young teenaged boy tried to keep two spaniels and a labrador from running out to greet me with tails wagging. I broke my oath that I would not pet any more dogs after being followed the whole way to Belmullet by a little scruffy terrier called Minnie. It's very hard to ignore all that waggy-tailed friendliness. As a result the poor kid had to hold on to the black cocker spaniel and the lab to stop them following me. STOP PETTING DOGS!

A little further on a great stretch of the road had been resurfaced even though it was only 10:30 am. I'm always astonished how fast roads get laid in Ireland. They weren't there the day before. I loved the info on the tar lorry -  (NAME OF COMPANY - Surface dressing and design experts). I guess it beats "tar-layers"! I walked on the newly surfaced road and of course my shoes got covered in sticky tar so every piece of gravel I walked over for the next couple of miles adhered to the soles.

Soon enough the road started to run downwards and the visibility increased. The first thing you notice when you leave a cloud is the clarity of the colours. Even though it was still overcast it was so much brighter.

The tide was a long way out and the shore lay exposed as I walked along. I knew I was coming close to the N59 again when the sound of traffic grew louder. The road I was on merged with the main road out of Tully Cross and ran down to the N-road. All of a sudden the sun broke through the clouds and the world emerged in glorious technicolour and really heavy traffic.

I mean horribly heavy. In particular the traffic coming toward me was bumper to bumper and because there were lots of hills and bends I was largely invisible to the oncoming cars. Scary, I tell you!

With one mile to go Tim came by in Minty and stopped to see if I wanted a lift. "It's only a mile," I said, "I'll walk it." I thought it couldn't get any worse but it did. It was awful! I have never been so glad to see the N59 because the road suddenly got flatter and wider. Also Tim was waiting for me just around the corner and we had the rest of the day - with all its fabulous sunshine to spend together driving around the tiny roads of Connemara. It couldn't have been more idyllic.

We ended the day in Galway, the city where I'd spent four years in university. After a perfect day we took a long stroll westwards along the prom toward the setting sun. The moon - almost full - had already risen and was bathed in the pink of the sunset as we walked. We decided to take a little drive to Silver Strand and watched the darkness fall and the moon rose over the ocean.

I think it was the perfect last day of a wonderful holiday for Tim.



Raising money for the RNLI on www.justgiving.com/Jane-Volker

Total mileage: 634.1 miles