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North by north west
 “Apart
from the igneous and metamorphic strata of the Slieve Gamph, Sligo mostly
sits on a carboniferous strata of limestone.”
That’s the prosaic description of the county from A Geological Study
Of Ireland by Charles James Seaforth.
W.B Yeats and his brother Jack described it much better in literature,
poetry and painting.
But although Mrs Yeats’ two lads did a bit better in describing
the country than old CJ Seaforth, capturing the atmosphere of this extraordinary
corner on the north west fringes of Europe is probably beyond any one
person.
In all honesty neither pen, paintbrush nor scientific study could ever
capture the atmosphere or beauty of the place.
And the splendour and isolation remains despite the rash of Mexican-style
bungalows which blight some of the county.
The tourist track is well trodden Benbulben, Lough Gill of Lake
Isle Of Innisfree fame and of course Drumcliff Cemetery, WB’s last
resting place are all well known to the ‘lick & look brigade’
the crowds which arrive by coach tour, buy an ice cream and depart.
But Sligo has a wealth of treats in store aside from these more famous,
busier attractions.
Seeing as we’re waxing poetical, we might as well quote another
poet’s famous lines:
“I shall be telling this with a sigh / Somewhere ages and ages hence:
/ Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -- / I took the one less travelled
by, / And that has made all the difference.”
Robert Frost may not actually have been referring to Sligo but his lines
could have been written for the less visited part of the county.
The southern reaches of Sligo is a paradise for walkers, climbers and
general view-addicts and boasts an array of prehistoric monuments as magnificent
as any you’ll find anywhere in Europe.
Despite the encroachment of modern day, throughout the north west a rural
way of life continues, unchanged in decades.
It’s redolent of times past, with quiet boreens, sleepy villages
and hedgerows alive with the sound of songbirds still waiting to be found.
The lowdown on Sligo’s high spots If it’s mountains you’re
after, you’re spoilt for choice.
The Dartry Mountains, the Curlew Mountains, the Ox Mountains and the Bricklieve
Mountains surround and bisect the county.
The latter, the Bricklieves, are probably Ireland’s best kept hillwalking
secret and are as good a starting off point as any.
They rise in the south of the county and are a small but exciting range
— terrifyingly steep tracks take you up past grey limestone cliffs
and on to one of the most beautiful bogland sceneries in Ireland, the
great plains of Tubbercurry and Ballymote.
The Slieve Gamph, or Ox Mountains, run east-west across the county parallel
with the shore with consequent spectacular views of the Atlantic and are
believed to contain the oldest rocks in the county and perhaps in Ireland
— many hundreds of millions of years old.
I don’t know if this is a load of old schist or not but the huge
grey outcrops certainly look old and gnarled.
The Curlew Mountains offer breathtaking views of the county to the north
and are the vista which reputedly inspired Thomas Moore to sing of “The
valley lay smiling before me”.
A more gentle stroll.
If you haven’t brought along your crampons, ropes and brown trousers
you can instead take the gentler Historical Trail, a recently completed
five-kilometre route from Ballyfarnon through Highwood, Castlebaldwin,
Boyle, Knockvicar and Keadew.
Only one difficult part presents itself this way a short and steep ascent
beyond Boyle but take it slowly and admire the surrounding meadows full
of wildflowers and there’s no problem.
In the valley of the Bricklieves the poorly-drained soils of the clay
have allowed the formation of a blanket bog many thousands of years old,
with bog cotton dancing in the breeze, several species of heather adorning
the land and larks rising every 20 yards or so.
The area is also home to one of Ireland’s great complexes of chambered
cairns.
The oldest site is found at Carrowmore and from here a great chain of
ancient sites stretches eastward, gaining in size and complexity.
Carrowmore Megalithic Cemetery boasts 45 standing stones, all arranged
under the stern gaze of the mother of all megalithic standing stones —
Medb’s Cairn, on top of Knocknarea, the ruler of Connacht.
The Queen of Connacht was reputedly killed by a piece of cheese thrown
at her by a vengeful rival.
If only she’d packed the camembert.
Recent excavations have shown that humans lived in this neck of the woods
perhaps as long as 7,400 years ago and built the earliest tombs yet identified
in western Europe.
This has only recently come to light and is important because a tomb is
a very significant thing.
It indicates respect for the dead which to any other animal is just new
meat.
It means that if you wake in the morning and a member of the family is
dead, you don’t say: “Hey! Let’s eat ’em!”
Graves indicate a real attachment to ancestors, the true beginnings of
a society.
Evidently amongst these early people there was a need, which continues
to the present day, to visit the familial dead and attempt to communicate
with we-know-not-what.
Recent mock-ups using the bone structure of skulls found in this area
have shown that these fledgling Europeans looked like members of Deep
Purple.
Despite this, 7,000 years ago they had at the very least the beginnings
of a complex society.
Plus, these early Sligo people evidently enjoyed a good view as much as
we do, building their cairns, dolmens and sepulchral chambers on Sligo’s
dramatic Atlantic seaboard.
From turf to surf However it’s not all tomb tourism and hillwalking.
There are some idyllic seaside towns hereabouts.
Easky, a renowned centre for surfing, stands on the famous Killala Bay
where the French ships anchored in 1798 in support of the Republican movement.
Inniscrone, a busy little seaside village of the type you probably thought
didn’t exist any more, lies a little further down the coast.
From here you can head back towards Tubbercurry and drive through the
Ox Mountains, past the impossibly picturesque Lough Talt.
Sligo is an extraordinary county.
It is Yeats’ country much of his poetry was inspired by the surrounding
landscape and a short stay here will probably have you reaching for pen
and paper yourself to jot down a few well-chosen words.
Sligo was also the birthplace of a lesser known figure but one arguably
as important as Yeats.
Fiddler Michael Coleman, a man many would claim was instrumental in saving
Irish music from extinction in the early part of the 20th century, was
born here 110 years ago.
The Sligo style also has claims to having spread across the country and
is largely speaking what passes as ‘Irish’ fiddle music these
days.
You can pay your respects to him in the village of Killavil, in an area
of south Sligo which has been famous for its traditional music for almost
200 years.
Sligo town
The handsome hilly capital of the county is steadily getting a reputation
as a place where the traditional and the trendy have been combined into
an attractive mix.
There’s a thriving Yeats Summer School and arts festival, both of
which are coming up in August, as well as a nightlife which seems to be
going full throttle most of the year.
Situated at the mouth of the Garavogue River, Sligo is surrounded by
mountains Benbulben and Truskmore to the North and Knocknarea to the south.
The town is built on several gravel ridges giving it its tightly-knit
appearance which complements its modern cosmopolitan atmosphere.
If you want an ambient place to stay try the Glasshouse Hotel.
Towering over the banks of the Garavogue river, this is a design boutique
hotel featuring quirkiness, colour, pop art, cutting-edge design and architecture.
The hotel features many mid-week and weekend breaks www.theglasshouse.ie
tel 0910 4300
The day trip
Rosses Point is the obligatory day trip from Sligo town and it’s
not difficult to work out why.
It boasts two truly magnificent sandy beaches safe for swimming with
lifeguard patrol in the summer months and views across Drumcliff Bay.
This is where the Yeats boys spent their summers with their cousins the
Middletons at Elsinore Lodge and the place is beautiful enough to raise
the muse in anyone.
In a land of romantic names and resonances, the headland at Rosses Point
stands out like a sore thumb.
Deadman’s Point gets its name from an incident at the turn of the
19th century.
A foreign seaman was given a burial at sea but was |
