🏍️ Day 6 – Forgotten Villages, Windswept Lighthouses & Trad Tunes in Ballyshannon 🌬️🎶
Date: May 7th, 2025
Day 6 kicked off under bright skies and a slight chill — ideal riding conditions along the Wild Atlantic Way. I started the day by inflating my rear tyre once again. Then I explored more of Achill Island. It feels like riding through a postcard that someone forgot to finish. 🏞️
First stop: the abandoned village near Keem Bay. It is a hauntingly beautiful stretch of crumbled stone homes. These homes are now swallowed by the hills. Walking among the ruins, you can almost hear the whispers of the past. The silence here wasn’t empty… it was full of something ancient. 🏚️🌾
From there, I wound my way to the dazzling turquoise waters of Keem Bay. A hidden gem tucked between dramatic cliffs, it looked more Caribbean than County Mayo. This beautiful stop is part of the stunning Wild Atlantic Way. If it weren’t for the sheep staring at me like I was lost, I might’ve stayed all day. 🐑🌊
Then, it was northbound again along the Wild Atlantic Way. It hugged the coast to Blacksod Lighthouse. The lighthouse stands proud at the tip of the Mullet Peninsula. Wind battered the shore, gulls screamed above, and the Atlantic reminded me just how far from home I really was. 🌬️💨
Next came a string of wonderfully odd and fascinating sights along the famous Wild Atlantic Way:
- St. Deirbhile’s Well – where legend says wishes come true. (No, I didn’t wish for a new bike… yet.)
- Roslee Castle – a brooding shell overlooking the waves.
- The Split Rock – local lore says it was split by the devil himself. Naturally, I parked the bike and gave it a respectful distance. 😅
As the day wore on, the landscape kept shifting. It transformed from ancient peat bogs to wild coastline, showcasing the beauty of the Wild Atlantic Way. Then, it reached the dizzying heights of Mullaghmore Head, where the cliffs were jaw-dropping. The wind nearly stole my helmet. Seriously. Hold onto your chin straps here. 🪖🌀
Finally, just before dusk, I rolled into Ballyshannon, a peaceful lakeside town where I’d pitched camp for the night. 🏕️ I strolled into town. I treated myself to dinner at the Imperial Hotel. It was a proper feed after a day of roadside granola bars. Then it was onto a thatched pub, tucked away like something from a storybook. I enjoyed a few well-earned Guinness and a dose of traditional Irish music along the vibrant Wild Atlantic Way. 🎻🍻
There’s something magical about ending a long ride in a pub full of strangers. They sing songs you don’t quite know. You hum along anyway. That’s the real Ireland. 🇮🇪
