Achill Island is north of Westport, remote, wild, still undeveloped for the most part. Small scrubby farms are here, and lots and lots of bogs, where peat is cut, harvested, and dried, and still used today for heating homes. The first time I went up here I hitched and I was concerned that although Achill is only 40 miles from Westport it felt like 400 miles into the back side of the civilized world. I managed to get a ride right onto the island with two women who were reporting into work at the call center in Achill town. Then I began to hitch around the island and it was slow going. Not only that, but storms were passing through although cars weren´t. After an hour I gave up crossed the street, and started hitching back towards Westport, comforting myself that at least I got to the island even if I didn´t get to go along the Atlantic Coast drive which was reputed to be some of the most beautiful scenery in Ireland. Soon I became a fixture on the landscape as I hitched for hours trying to get back to Westport. The wind picked up, squalls pulled in then left, and the only thing that comforted me was the police station across the street. If it got really bad, I could go in and report myself missing or something and maybe they would take pity on me and drive me to Westport, where I was last seen.
An old man, a farmer, finally stopped, looking for a bit of conversation and whatnot to ease his long drive to the big town in that area, Castlebar. He drove me right to Westport, bless his soul. But not before we had the Bush Talk, required conversation everywhere now. Amazingly, he was pro-Bush! Of course he didn´t have to live with Bush and the Irish have Bertie Ahern as their president and he is just undergoing questioning on some $50,000 that he can´t quite remember where he got or what he did with it.
The next day I rode back to Achill Island with 2 German woman who had rented a car and didn´t mind my company. What a glorious day and we couldn´t help ourselves from stopping every mile or so to get out and absorb the vistas of land, bog, sea, and sky. We were very compatible travelers, liked the cemeteries, picking and eating wild blackberries, stopping for a tea now and then, or just stopping and each of us wandering off on our own. Beautiful beautiful country!
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