Fed up with airport taxes, luggage scrums and overpriced sandwiches? Then why not stay at home this summer, asks HILARY FANNIN, who's bowled over by Sligo
‘COME AWAY, oh human child, to the waters and the wild.”
I have an entirely unoriginal theory that goes like this: as a skint and nervy nation we will this summer collectively eschew the baggage fees, the airport taxes, the flaccid, overpriced airline sandwiches, the carousel scrum – growing dizzy watching someone else’s bag in eternal revolution – and we will all decide to stay at home for our holidays.
Ha, ha, I hear you say, what summer? For God’s sake, woman, we haven’t had a summer in this country for the past two years. I know, but maybe the low pressure zones, scudding clouds and torrential rain will bugger off this year, back to the Azores or wherever they come from, and our ailing spirits will be lifted by a glimpse of sun.
On a recce for a stay-at-home summer, I recently sprung my two sons from school for a couple of days and headed north-west to Sligo. Buffeted by Atlantic waves crashing on to majestic beaches, and sheltered by gentle-sloping mountains, it is a county of extraordinary natural beauty.
Standing in the churchyard at Drumcliffe in early spring, daffodils giddy in the unfamiliar sun, reading WB Yeats’s epitaph starkly etched on a granite slab (“Cast a cold eye/ On life, on death./Horseman, pass by!”), Benbulbin was suddenly bathed in light and the poet’s palette was revealed: the purple and khaki and yellow of the mountain, and the seaside blue of a clear sky.
We spent the two nights of our visit at Sligo’s Clarion Hotel, which offers family rooms (including self-catering options), child-friendly restaurants (especially the Kudos bar, which served almost instant Thai and oriental food to my famished near-adolescent) and a robust buffet breakfast that we availed of after a swim in the hotel’s leisure centre. The Clarion is big, efficient and sturdy enough that you’re not worried about your children smashing something with the football they’ve just made out of a pair of rolled-up socks.
On our first morning, with rainclouds threatening, we drove a few kilometres to Ballymote to visit Eagles Flying, the Irish Raptor Research Centre, a scientifically managed sanctuary for birds of prey. Eagles Flying offers a riveting raptor experience under the guidance of a German biologist named Lothar F Muschketat. Stormclouds having lifted, we observed, at less than an arm’s length, eagles and hawks hunting dummy prey, razor-like falcons dive-bombing their lunch, a chilly and imposing eagle called Alaska, and a vulture that, with its piercing gaze and blue-black plumage, was reminiscent of a caustic old lady in a shabby velvet dress.
“Our skin is like wet paper compared to their claws,” said Muschketat, as falcons and hawks flew from my son Peter to me, and back again, their powerful beaks snatching the shredded body parts of dead chicks from our fingers. “And some people like to upgrade their personality by owning such a bird,” he added, explaining wryly how some neglected and unwanted birds ended up at the sanctuary. Terrifying and exhilarating, you can sense the birds’ intelligence and ferocity – I was deeply grateful to have a couple of fluffy moribund chickens to appease them.
Every month Muskchketat’s charges eat 12,000 day-old chickens, 20kg of fish and four sheep. Aside from the birds, he and his wife, Regina, also share their home with sheep, rabbits, ferrets, donkeys, mice, gorgeous mink-brown rabbits, a squabbling turkey and an enormous pig called Rosie, which totters around the farm after Lothar like a game old girl in a pair of very tight high heels.
Eagles Flying caters not just for visiting individuals and families but also coach parties and large groups, providing bird shows and an educational experience in the purpose-built arena in the grounds. Fees vary, but admission for a family of two adults and two children costs €27 (under-threes are free). The entrance fee helps support a worthwhile, fascinating project and environment that deserves our business and support.
SURF’S UP. Sligo has waves and golden beaches and more waves, great frothy, relentless waves. Situated on the beach-front in Strandhill is Perfect Day Surf School, founded by Sligo native Tom Hickey. A former national coach of the Irish surfing team, Hickey was also director of coaching with the Irish Surfing Association, and while he still teaches, Perfect Day is now under the directorship of his lovely daughter, Elisha, who is not only a qualified instructor and a former under-18 national surf champion but also a marine biology student who plans to specialise in shark conservation.
Supported by Circle One surf company, father and daughter provide group lessons for all ranges of ability (maximum class size is five people before a second tutor joins) or one-to-one tuition; they also provide wetsuits, boards and equipment. Water awareness and beach ecology are elements of the lessons, and for those planning a summer holiday with children, a week-long afternoon children’s surf camp is also available.
On the day we were due to hit the wetsuits with Tom, a roaring sea had eclipsed the beach, and it just wasn’t safe enough to surf. Over a coffee, however, we made plans for my future domination of the waves (taking into account that I currently wouldn’t know one end of a surfboard from another). I am completely sold on the notion of learning to surf, and much as others may crave a midlife-crisis Jaguar, an 18-year-old bride or a couple of shots of Botox, I have developed an idealised notion of myself, tall, thin and 20, flaying the waves on my speedy board. Sad but true.
Watch this space for a reality check, but I am determined to go back to Strandhill – the town, by the way, where the beautiful but tragic Roseanne lives out the key moments of her epic story in Sebastian Barry’s unforgettably moving novel, The Secret Scripture. Group lessons cost €30 per adult and €20 for under-18s, while two-to-one and one-to-one lessons cost between €40 and €50 per person.
The following morning, with Sligo bathed in resolute sunshine, we trotted through Yeats Country in a magnificent hand-crafted wagonette, drawn by a pair of traditional Irish cobs. We had travelled out to Grange, to Island View Riding Stables, a family farm between the Atlantic and Benbulbin, which provides pony trekking along the coast and on the foothills of the mountains and which is also the home of Swingle Tree Carriage Tours. The covered carriage in which we made our sedate way around glorious countryside is, as proprietor Raymond O’Connor pointed out, a pleasant alternative to trekking for older people or families with young children.
We trotted around decorous lanes, alongside fields dotted with day-old lambs (which actually gambolled) and on towards the shore, where we disembarked to observe mellow seals basking on the deserted beach of O’Connor’s Island. The island, from which Raymond’s family originated, now acts as a secure playpen for the stables’ young horses. The cost of driver and carriage (seating up to eight adults) for an hour-long tour is €80; longer trips, including a two-hour ride with a pub stop, can be booked.
Co Sligo itself was a joyous playpen for our two-day break; it is a glorious, historic and welcoming county. There are times, though, travelling through the county, when the roaring, untrammelled idiocy of planners and builders makes you want to weep. Pockets of beautiful rural landscape have been sullied by urban-looking housing estates, and there are reams of empty, unsympathetic holiday developments. There is a sense that indifferent eyes and the short-term pursuit of profit have been allowed to severely bruise a majestic beauty.
Anyway, anyway, anyway. Did you know that your existential anxieties and stress can be banished by a seaweed bath, which is exactly what I did at Voya, situated in a glass-fronted building overlooking the sea at Strandhill? And man alive, what a serious treat.
Voya offers “organic beauty from the sea”. This translates as a series of reasonably priced spa treatments, including facials and massage, using products made from local seaweed. At Voya they’ll wrap you in seaweed-infused muslin, put hot stones on your back and immerse you in a warm bath of ocean weed, and you will emerge as tinglingly lovely as a well-scrubbed mermaid. Voya is a sustainable, green, family-run company, the products are invigorating and luxurious, and the business, which is still growing steadily despite the recession, is a lesson in how a small, ethical and reasonably priced brand – a 50-minute seaweed bath costs €25 – brand can prosper.
I began my visit to Voya by having a conversation with Neil Walton, a professional triathlete and the family member who initiated the business, opening the town’s first new seaweed bath in more than a century. Walton, a composed and shatteringly healthy-looking man, and I (neither of the aforementioned) discussed diet, juicing and, naturally, the detoxifying and curative powers of seaweed. By the time I stepped into my gorgeous, oily, hot seaweed bath I had more resolutions under my pelt than a hungover penitent. I was going home to buy a juicer, eat organic produce and pour the gin down the sink.
Post-immersion, and watching the waves pound back on the seafront at Strandhill, I felt stunned with a sense of well- being. To celebrate we trotted into Strandhill’s Bella Vista bar and bistro, where I bought my sons a fantastic home-made pizza and the best hot chocolate they have ever tasted, according to both of them.
Relaxed and destressed, I’m afraid my purifying resolutions evaporated in the conviviality of the atmosphere. But why let a notional wholesomeness spoil a hospitable bar and a seriously good Italian restaurant? A spaghetti marinara and a glass of wine or two later, I had probably screwed up my acid and alkaline levels all over again, but it’s okay! I know my way back to the seaweed baths, and if I could just find the instructions for the juicer . . .
Hilary Fannin and family were guests of www.discoverireland.ie
Where to stay, eat and go in Sligo
Where to stay
Clarion Hotel Sligo. Clarion Road, Co Sligo, 071-9119000, www.clarionhotelsligo.com. On the outskirts of Sligo town, this large, family-friendly hotel has various weekend and midweek offers, with swimming pool and sauna.
Temple House. Gardener's Cottage, Ballymote, Co Sligo, 071-9183329, www.templehouse.ie. An historic home offering luxurious country house accommodation.
Primrose Grange House. Knocknarea, Co Sligo, 087-2641979, www.primrose grangehouse.com. Historic country house nestling in the Knocknarea Mountains, close to Strandhill and Sligo town.
Where to eat
Bella Vista Bar and Bistro. Shore Road, Strandhill, Co Sligo, 071-9122222. Friendly, convivial Italian bar, restaurant and takeaway. Terrific food, books to borrow, toys to amuse the children.
The Yeats Tavern. Drumcliffe, Co Sligo, 071-9163117, www.yeatstavernrestaurant.com. Efficient, if somewhat sedate, eaterie next to Drumcliffe Church on the Yeats trail. Children's menu and half portions available.
Tobergal Lane Cafe. Tobergal Lane, Sligo town centre, 071-9146599. Fresh, locally sourced produce, authentic bistro food in a relaxing environment.
Where to go
Perfect Day Surf School. Strandhill, Co Sligo, 087-2029399, www.perfectday surfing.com. Learn to surf safely and at your own speed. Small classes, experienced and enthusiastic teachers – a must.
Eagles Flying. Irish Raptor Research Centre, Portinch, Ballymote, Co Sligo. 071-9189310, www.eagles flying.com. Riveting raptor experience, with eagles, hawks, vultures and Rosie, the sauciest piggy in Sligo.
Island View Riding Stables. Grange, Co Sligo, 071-9166156, www.islandviewridingstables. com. Pony trekking and horse-drawn carriage tours of Yeats Country in all its wild natural glory.
Voya Seaweed Baths. Strandhill, Co Sligo, 071-9168686, www.voya.ie. Organic, green and deeply relaxing seaweed baths and treatments.