Biking Through the Elements and Hitchhiking across Ireland. Achill Island, The Final Frontier of Ireland.

Tucked away in the north east of Ireland, Achill Island, the quiet and often rain soaked sliver of Ireland offers some of the most dramatic views in all of Europe. I have reached Achill twice and both trips were incredible adventures. Here are those stories and why I consider Achill as my favorite stop across the country.

Standing at 466 meters, the Minaun Cliffs dominate the horizon.

Have you ever read a fantasy novel where the story centers around a hero who must find their way to a mystical, hidden land that only few have heard about, much less been to? Where in order to complete their quest they must navigate a long and challenging road to reach this fabled land. Now, have you ever wondered what it would feel like if you could put yourself in the shoes of a hero embarking on such a quest ?

Achill Island is a place that teleports you into this fantasy yourself. A place where you can fully immerse yourself in a breath-taking location that possesses the aura of a land which exists within a separate universe than our own.

I have been to Achill Island twice in my life, once in 2019 and again a few years later in 2022. Much like a heroic adventurer on their journey, both of my trips to Achill were full of excitement, hardships, and adventure. You see Achill is quite remote and far removed from Ireland's population centers. Tucked away in the far reaches of the North-West coast of Ireland there are no trains or even reliable busses going to Achill. Moreover, none of the countries' major motorways head to the soaring craggy cliffs and vast white-sand beaches of Achill island.

Part 1 - Biking to Achill

On my first trip to Ireland, I went in not knowing much about Ireland altogether. Other than Dublin, Galway, and the Guinness store-house I was not well aware of much else. Luckily however, I was staying with some close friends who were Irish themselves.

During my time with them they took me to many of these well known sites I had saved on my mental bucket-list, but unbeknownst to me they had also planned a few surprises. One such surprise was for my 20th birthday they planned a secret trip up the famed 'wild-atlantic' west coast of Ireland. Driving from their family home in the eastern side of Ireland we navigated across the country, past Galway, heading north into county Mayo eventually reaching the first stop of our trip; Westport, a quaint, but lively town nestled in a cove on the west coast of Ireland. Our first days were spent exploring the charming town and completing a gorgeous hike up the nearby mountain, Croagh Patrick. It was after two days in Westport I was informed that the following day we would be completing a 65 kilometer cycle from Westport to "Achill Island" a place I had never heard of to this point. (If you're wondering how it is possible to cycle to an island. Achill island is only separated from the mainland by about 100m of water and there is a bridge connecting the two landmasses together.)

I was all in upon hearing this plan. The details given to me were; over the course of roughly 5 to 6 hours we would be cycling along a remote stretch of the coastline, ending at an airbnb they had booked on the beach in Achill. The one wrinkle in our plan was that the weather was calling for rain throughout the day of our cycle. Being eager to see and experience the country as well as being ignorant and still uninitiated to the Irish weather, I pleaded with my friends to push on and go through with our plans. The first true warning sign was when we went to go pickup our rental bicycles. When going to pay for the bikes we had reserved the shop clerk stopped us to ask if we were aware of the weather forecast for the day and in saying so much did their best to dissuade us from going, despite this meaning a couple less paying customers on what would presumably be a slow day... We did not heed his warning (more specifically, I did not want to heed his warning).

The first hour or two of the ride were fairly smooth and uneventful. We were blanketed under overcast skies, yet, to this point it appeared that the rain was holding off. Then little by little the rain started to come. At first it was a steady, but manageable mist, but as we cycled further and further into the wilderness and away from shelter the rain steadily increased in its intensity. Even worse than the rain, the wind had gathered strength as we cycled further and eventually developed into a monstrous headwind that had slowed our pace to a crawl. With the weather being okay at the start of the day we had made good progress and reached the halfway point at about the time we had expected to. However, with the full force of the driving wind and rain hitting us head on, the same could not be said about the second half of our ride. What should have been a further 2-hours descended into a seemingly endless further 5-hour uphill slog caught in absolutely dastardly weather. What started off as a bit of discomfort became genuine concern as we were caught out in such a remote stretch of land that we no longer had phone service and the prospects of catching hypothermia became quite real. The atmosphere was ominous and unwelcoming as the dark low-hanging clouds completely obscured the surrounding mountains with only the faintest silhouettes of the surrounding landscape being visible. Morale was extremely low, but we trudged on minute after minute, kilometer after kilometer. The end point of our ride being the airbnb we had booked on the beach in Achill and as the hours passed we inched closer and closer. Finally, around dusk we were on our final approach to our destination. In those final 5-kilometers or so the rain had finally begun to break and the foggy clouds were lifting to at last reveal the landscape around us. But there was still one big obstacle, between us and our beachside airbnb there was a final long and strenuous hill we needed to climb before descending down the other-side to our beachside salvation. With our tired legs we slowly ascended to the peak of the hill where we finally were afforded a panoramic view of Achill Island.

Still despite the being soaking wet, freezing cold, and having every ounce of energy in my body spent, I can vividly remember coming over the crest of the final hill and being utterly awestruck seeing the beauty of Achill Island for the first time. To my left were towering cliffs, standing hundreds of meters over the surrounding ocean in one of the most dramatic landscapes I had ever seen. Leading away from these cliffs was one of the most stunning natural white-sand beaches anywhere in the world. This was Keel strand (Keel beach) and at a length of nearly four kilometers will go toe to toe with any beach in Thailand or the Bahamas. Away from the cliffs looking inland, I could see large stretches of rolling barren bog-land with a few houses and cottages scattered about. Then at the head of the island directly ahead of me was Slievemore a triangular mountain looking over the bay of Achill Island. Upon seeing this the tiredness in my legs lifted and an otherworldly sensation of bliss carried me down the hill the final few kilometeres to our final destination on the island.

The next few days were spent exploring and relaxing in one of the most stunning and remote destinations I have visited around the world. Achill, is a place that is quiet, but stimulating. While, unsurprisingly, there is not any sort of social scene to speak of here. It is a place with infinite stunning views that will leave you awestruck walking, or cycling through town, or hiking through the bogs and hills of the island. From what I saw in the town of Keel where I stayed, and the neighboring town of Dooagh, there were no more than two or three pubs and one restaurant and cafe... While I had a perfectly fine fish and chips, fine dining is not why you come all this way.

Part 2 - A Must Visit Destination

You come to hike through the hills of Slievemore, Keel West, and the Minaun Heights, discovering hidden beaches that can only be accessed by foot, or treking through marshland for stunning panoramic views of Keel Beach, or finding the very best views of the Cliffs of Croaghaun, the third highest sea-cliffs in Europe and the highest cliffs in all of Ireland. This is just scratching the surface. Achill Island also possesses some of the most absolutely breath-taking beaches found anywhere in the world (although the water can be more than a bit cold). Four beaches in particular really come to mind; Keel Strand, Keem Bay, Dugort Beach, and Annagh Strand. Keem Bay, being the most famous of the bunch famously making an appearance in the film 'Banshees of Inisherin'. Surrounded by towering cliffs on every side, the stunning beach has earned many accolades such as being named to Lonely Planet's 'Top 100 Beaches in the World'. I have no doubt if they were located in Thailand, Greece or the South of Italy the beaches found on Achill Island would be some of the most popular in the world, crawling with vacation goers, and flanked by hotels every few meters. Instead, being located in a remote corner of Ireland notorious for its stormy weather, there is an aura of detachment from the rest of the world here. It is quiet, rather than hearing pop music blaring from a beachside bar or the commotion of people moving about, in Achill there is nothing but the sound of the crashing waves, squawking seagulls and the occasional "moo" or "baa" from the many cows and sheep who freely graze around the island. In my experience, nowhere quite demonstrates the feeling of standing at the edge of the world as Achill Island.

Part 3 - Hitchhiking to Achill

After my first visit to Achill I was held spellbound by the dramatic landscapes and otherworldly atmosphere of the Island. It immediately became one of my favorite destinations in the world and I dreamed of the day that I would be able to return.

In 2021 I moved to Limerick, Ireland to continue working on my studies. However the issue was, I did not have a car and Limerick was about 300 kilometers south of Achill. Moreover, from all of my research, it appeared that reaching Achill using either the rail or bus systems would be virtually impossible. I had reached a bit of a standstill. That was until early March, 2022 about two weeks before St. Patrick's day.

It was a Friday night after class and after being convinced to go to the bar by one of my friends I had somehow lost track of him, ending up at a house party with a group of people I did not know well, but had made friends with at the bar. While this could have resulted in some awkwardness the alcohol at this point had been flowing for a few hours and everyone was open and eager to get to know each other. It was this night I made friends with another student, an accomplished traveler herself leading to us spending hours sharing our many travel stories with each other. It was during this time that she shared how she had spent time doing a bit of hitchhiking around New Zealand and Australia in her late teens after high-school. Seeing me clearly intrigued by this I was asked if I had ever tried hitch-hiking before myself, to which I promptly answered 'no'. Her reply came, "well would you like to try it ?" I said "yes, but I have no idea where I would like to go..." and then it clicked for me, "actually, Achill island, up in the north of the country, we could try to make it there". Upon this revelation I proceeded to explain the grandeur of Achill and why in my mind it was the best destination to visit across the whole of Ireland. At the end of my speech she replied "yeah, sure I don't see why we don't give it a try" we agreed to begin our trip two weeks from now and just like that, with a virtual stranger the plans for our trip were set.

The morning of our trip, I rummaged through my apartments trash bin and found a few cardboard boxes to cut up and make signs with. I brought the cardboard to our meeting point on campus and together in dark bold letters we wrote out our destination on our first cardboard sign "ACHILL". Our bags were packed, our cardboard sign was ready for presentation, and we were filled with a sense of adventure. We boarded the local town bus and exited at the bus stop nearest to the motorway entry intersection. Laughing at the fact I was actually going hitchhiking, full of adrenaline, and curious to see who would actually pick us up, I held up my sign and waited for our ride... And then I waited and waited and waited. For nearly two hours we stood there on the side of the road next to the motorway and not a single person stopped to pick us up. Our excitement and eagerness had faded and we were coming to terms with the fact that it appeared our hitchhiking adventure would be coming to an end before it had even started.

Then suddenly, as we were discussing going back to the bus stop and heading back to campus, at last a car pulled off to the side of the road and waved us over. Not only did he offer us a ride, but he also provided great insight as to why we had been waiting for so long without any luck. The first point he made was that we were waiting at the wrong motorway intersection. You see, we were standing at the entry point to the N24 motorway, which approaches Limerick from the southwest and primarily services drivers commuting between Limerick and Cork. The problem being Cork was the complete opposite direction of where we were trying to go. The second issue he pointed out was that the destination we had written on our sign was "ACHILL", this was all well and good, but naive and overly ambitious. As previously mentioned Achill Island is 300 kilometers from Limerick in a remote corner of the country, the likelihood of us getting someone to stop and pick us up with Achill as their destination was virtually zero. He suggested rather than Achill, we write Ennis on our sign, which was the next big town north of Limerick. Rather than hoping for one ride to take us all the way to Achill, he suggested we view each driver who picks us up as a stepping stone getting us one leg of the journey closer to our final destination. With this in mind he offered to drive us to correct highway intersection. We accepted the offer and piled into his car, my friend taking the passenger seat beside the driver while I lay prone in the back of the car. The car was absolutely jam packed with some sort of construction or landscaping equipment. Despite being quite the uncomfortable ride, finally getting on the road gave us a sense of renewed energy that reignited our motivation to reach Achill.

He dropped us off at the correct intersection, turning away and driving back toward Limerick. We were back on our own just the two of us with our cardboard signs and backpacks. Again, now at the right highway intersection, I took my place at the side of the road and held up our makeshift sign, this time with the destination reading "Ennis". To my surprise, unlike the two hours we had previously spent standing on the side of the road, a car stopped and waved us over within ten minutes of us being dropped off. The driver was a middle aged jolly man who told us he was driving to Ennis and we could hop in with him if it suited us. With excitement we accepted his offer and loaded into the car. We were finally leaving Limerick city, as kilometer by kilometer we moved closer to Achill, We would soon discover that our driver was a talkative man full of stories and was not someone who hesitated to talk about the details of their own personal life. The topic of conversation for most of the ride related to his incarcerated brother and the transgressions that had led his unfortunate family member to end up in this position. My friend and I also shared stories of our own lives and altogether we had a very pleasant ride to Ennis. Then just as we were coming into town our driver asked us if he could make a detour as he was running late to pick his up his daughters from school. Surprised by the fact that he would even ask of if this would be okay. We told him of course and in few minutes we were pulling into the parking lot of the local elementary school. As two girls came out of the school their father stepped out of the car giving them a hug, then turning to the car and introducing us with a gleeful "hey girls, these are two hitchhikers I picked up on the way here". An awkward moment arose when the girls came to get in the car, only to realize that all the seats were occupied. Quickly, me and my friend jumped up out of our seats and offered them to the two girls who were clearly perplexed by the strangers that were sitting in their seats. Just as quickly as we jumped up the girls father told us to sit back down and refused to allow us to give up our seats. Rather, the car being a station wagon with a spacious boot the girl's father open the boot and told his daughters they would be riding there. Despite our protests he was having none of it and reinforced the point that his daughters would be sitting in the boot and we would not be giving up our seats. Again we were off, now with two additional passengers who were clearly not amused that their seats had been stolen by two strangers. Luckily for ourselves and the unhappy girls the next drop off point was only a few minutes away. Our driver took us to the end of town where the local roads re-joined the motorway. Upon getting dropped off he wished us luck and would not let us go without giving us his phone number saying "if you're not able to get another ride give me a call and you'll be more than welcome to crash at mine." We profoundly said thank you for his great generosity and kindness, then just like that we were back standing on the side of the road again just as we had began in Limerick.

It really did appear that being dropped off in the right spot made a huge difference. Just as we had found a ride soon after arriving at the right intersection back in Limerick. Again, at the intersection in Ennis we were being picked up again by our third driver of the day in a matter of minutes. This time it was a young couple, roughly our age, who were part of a band and on their way all the way to Galway to perform in a gig that evening. Knowing we had a ride secured all the way to Galway had us feeling truly reinvigorated and for the first time it felt as though we might actually be able to make it all the way to Achill hitchhiking. The couple was nice and conversed sharing pleasantries with one another, even offering us to go to their gig that evening. However, after the long day of traveling, neither of us was up for a late night and we opted to politely decline the offer.

We arrived in Galway right at golden hour and had a new mission on the mind; find a place to sleep that night. It was already late in the evening so the options were few. We went on google and found some hostels nearby, knocking on the door and asking if there were any beds available that night. The hostel was near full capacity and there was not space for us in the same dorm room. However, there were two beds in separate room which they gave to us. Happy, but exhausted we had made it to Galway and found a place to stay, we cooked a simple dinner in our hostel kitchen and called it an early night... Which was subsequently interrupted by the sound of a blackout drunk Canadian tourist who was vomiting in the room and his friends who were trying to drag him from his bed to the bathroom. Between all of this commotion in the middle of the night and the smell of vomit filling the room in the end I did not get much sleep, but I digress.

The next day we got back into our now familiar routine; make a sign with the name of the next big town on our way to Achill, go to the motorway, hold up our sign, and wait. Our goal for today was to make it to Westport which was the last big town before the stretch of road to Achill. Again, it did not take long for us to get picked up. This time it was a middle-aged man driving home to his village out in the country. We rode with him for about an hour or so and he dropped us at his village. It was a truly tiny village, the type of place where there is one small grocery store, a church, a gas station and that is it. There were probably less than twenty houses in town and although we were roughly halfway between Galway and Westport it felt truly deserted with a car passing through every fifteen to twenty minutes or so. Our strong momentum came to a screeching halt as every minute passed. We stood on the side of the road for over an hour, but no luck. Then to make matters worse it started to rain. Things were now looking bleak, we retreated into the nearby grocery store and took our lunch break there eating an assortment of random snacks by the front door. Spirits were low and the fear of being stranded in a village with nothing that appeared to resemble a hotel or hostel began to creep in. What would we do ? There was no public transportation passing through here. Would we hitchhike back to Galway, could we ? When the rain started to die down a bit I decided we should go out and test our luck at getting a ride to Westport again. We stood there for another twenty minutes or so in the rain. Then just when it felt all hope was being lost a passing car stopped and waved us over. Perhaps feeling sympathetic to the pathetic scene of us standing drenched in the cold, the driver told us to hop in. To our absolute joy, he was driving all the way to Westport. We were back in business and had secured a ride two thirds of the way to Achill.

As if the hitchhiking gods were granting us their good fortunes for pressing on and staying committed to reaching our destination our third and final day of hitchhiking was the smoothest of them all. Getting an early start, we again went to the edge of Westport town and help up our sign. The excitement was palpable as our newest road sign finally read the letters of our final destination "ACHILL" written in all bold. We took our place and in what could not have been more than ten or fifteen minutes a car was pulling off to the side of the road and waving us over. A happy elderly Irish grandma and grandpa peered out the window and welcomed us in saying that they were actually heading up to the nearby Nephin National park, but were happy to make a detour for us and take us all the way to Achill sound. The ride was enlightening as the old couple shared with us that they were from the area themselves. Providing us many stories of their upbringing as we rode through the Irish countryside. At one point they even described to us how they had hitchhiked themselves in their younger days and were happy to see that some young people still were able to experience the joys and sensations of adventure to be found when hitchhiking. As the hills rolled to our right and the sea to our left we were filled with a sense of excitement and relief as it finally became clear that our hitchhiking journey was going to be a success. Passing through the same scenery I had cycled through those years prior, I was finally on my way back to my beloved Achill. At last after three days, over 300 kilometers and many kind people who helped us along the way we had made it to Achill. We left the car by profusely thanking the couple who had taken the final stretch of our journey. Then just like that we had arrived. We stepped out of the car filled with a sense of joy and pride that we had actually gone through and accomplished our plan to the end. The highlight of this all being that my memory did not fail me. Achill was just spectacular as I had remember it after that first visit. Between the memorable adventures of just getting there, with the beauty of the island itself, Achill is absolutely one of my favorite places in the world and one I recommend that everyone adds to the bucket list if it was not already there.