The West, particularly Conamara, has a particular fascination for the young, especially those living in cities. In one known case, it was always in the expectation of getting a glimpse of the legendary island of Hy Brasil, which a relative of hers had twice seen on the horizon. Anyway, to a letter from a young friend who announced that she and her companion tackled the loop between Renvyle and Leenane on a cloudy day last month:
"Not such a hardship, you might imagine, until you realise this was on bicycles, and by two unathletic people, more used to the seat of an armchair than the cruel seat of a bike. But what rewards they reaped. Stopping at the top of the bog road, near the turn-off to Bunowen to enjoy a bag of nuts and raisins, along with a breathtaking view, they also perforce noticed tiny delicate flowers, purple and white, almost alpine. Why perforce? Because more athletic Continental cyclists overtook them and made it healthier to take to the banks.
"Leenane these days attracts more and more attention. This comes mainly from the other side of the Atlantic, especially since the success of Martin MacDonagh's Leenane Trilogy. But not all the buses which swarm along the roads can distract from the stunning beauty and desolate atmosphere, typical of so much of Conamara (all right, Connemara)." She notes, "a lingering echo of the hardship suffered by the inhabitants 150 years ago. The famine struck particularly severely in this area and even more so further north towards Doolough and Louisburg. Monuments stand on this road where many died in the struggle towards Westport and food."
Our young visitors, however, felt no hardship between Renvyle House Hotel, visits to Gaynor's bar in Leenane and Paddy Coyne's in Tully Cross. Their aching muscles that night needed oiling. You would want to ask them so many questions. Is there still "coral" on the Coral Strand? What about razorfish being served in Clifden restaurants? But we'll hear it all when there is a get-together.