Here’s another two-for-one post, featuring our last two stops on the Wild Atlantic Way today. But not my last post of the day.
So it’s another quick one, just to get it all down, and to show the places, and to challenge myself to share video later. Is there video? There is video. Now I’ve mentioned it, you’re reading about it, and I must follow through. That’s how that works.
Up first is Tra Dhumh Goirt. (Or Dugort, or Doogort, or Pollawaddy, or Silver Strand … getting directions around here must be a challenge.) This is on the northern side of Mount Slievemore, so we’ve come around from where the deserted village sits on Achill Island. There are quite a few sandy beaches in this area. Also a lot of wind. And some grazing sheep and, most importantly, several lambs.
And this sign. You still see reminders like this. We should see more. I’m never sure if I’m more surprised by how people have so desperately tried to forget this, and how our institutions are largely engaged in that effort, or by the occasions when you see some reminder.
I wonder what the last such reminder will be. Will you even remember it? Someone, some day, is going to come to Tra Dhumh Goirt (or Dugort, or Doogort, or Pollawaddy, or Silver Strand) and see that sign. And then they’ll never see another one, or a rumpled piece of paper taped to a wall or window, or a battered sticker on the floor. And then one day after that they’ll try to remember the last time they saw something about the two-meters thing … “What was it called again? Ahh, yes.” Will they remember it here?
And the thing about a sign like this, here, is that you have to realize the Mayo County Council is invested. There’s no way that’s the original sign they posted here. No way that’s withstood the elements for approaching six years. Six years!
I wonder what was happening at Doran’s Point six years ago.
Functionally, this place’s pier serves a twice-daily ferry to get you over to the next island. There’s also a bus line that goes away from the point. It’s remote, rugged, quiet, ecologically diverse, and beautiful.
Also, there are monsters in the water. The Dobhar-Chu, the water hound of Celtic legend, lives out there. It’s said to look like a giant otter, but with a dog-like head. It swims the lakes and the sea, dragging victims into the water, where it kills and eats its prey. We both made it safely away from there, even if we weren’t prepared for an encounter. The legend goes that if you have a piece of the Dobhar-Chu’s skin, you’ll be protected from all many of nautical calamities. Also, you have to figure out how to get a piece of it’s skin.
And like all good monster stories, people have of course seen the thing. Most of the sightings seem to be in a lake, just six miles from where that photo was taken. Six miles would be close enough. I don’t need a piece of it’s skin that badly.
So those are our last two stops on the Wild Atlantic Way today but not overall. Not even close. This isn’t even the final post of Tuesday. What a day.
