I never thought I’d be part of one of those couples who does outdoor-sy things on the weekends, like spending a day riding bikes around islands off the west coast of Ireland. Somehow, that’s exactly what I found myself doing, and loving doing, on Friday, although granted not technically a weekend day, when Emmet and I took a trip to Inis Mor, the largest of the Aran Islands just off the coast of Galway.

The Aran Islands are apparently made up of kast limestone, and appears to have been cultivated for the growing of livestock, in particular sheep and cattle. The wool from the sheep is used to make traditional Aran sweaters, which are possibly the most recognisable Irish garb. Apparently different Aran clans have their own sweater patterns. I bought into the whole tourist thing and purchased my own Aran sweater from the Aran Sweater Market on the island, however, there are no Fargher or O’Cuana sweater patterns to my knowledge.

The islands do remain inhabited, but it’s a bit strange to cycle past these stone houses dotted and sometimes clustered around the island, otherwise wholly removed from the rest of the country. The population of Inis Mor, as with the other two Aran Islands, Inis Meain and Inis Oirr, is known for its preservation of the Irish language, the lyrical sound of which we could hear being spoken between the locals. Emmet speaks Irish and made some attempts to converse with the service providers we were dealing with, however, for many it was unexpected after hearing my much more broadly foreign accent.

Starting from the beginning of the day, to reach Inis Mor we had to travel for about  an hour from Galway town centre , leaving at around 9.15am, in order to meet the ferry across to the island, getting us to the island at around 11.15am. We travelled with Aran Island Ferries and paid about 32 Euro each for a return journey including both the bus and ferry. The ferry crossing takes another 40 minutes or so but is pleasant enough – we dozed in both directions. Upon arrival you’re greeted with a number of options to make your way around the island. Bikes are popular and are advertised for hire at a rate of 10 Euro per bike per day, although they may spring a deal on you and offer a five Euro discount. You will still have to pay double at the beginning of the day, with the deposit returned to you when you hand in your bike at the end of your travels. There are a couple of outlets from which you can get your bikes, all conveniently located around the dock. Alternatively, there are minivan tours, none of which look particularly official but all of which appear to be run by local townsfolk. There’s also a horse and cart option with a local guide, which will take you from one end of the island to the other. The last, and most economical option, at least in terms of Euros spent, is to walk.

It has been a very, very long time since either Emmet or myself mounted any sort of bike. Emmet has had a few spills over the handlebars while I had never thought myself particularly well balanced on two narrow wheels. However, we chose the cycling option, one because it seemed like the thing to do, and two, because we thought we could do with the exercise on this wonderfully sunny summers day. Looking decidedly like the city tourists we were I had my hand bag, which I promptly shoved under the rusted clip overhanging the back wheel, the shoulder strap wrapped around my seat, and off we went. Emmet of course chose the dud of the bunch of bikes with a seat that would not stay up. Never mind. In any case we were going to look like gooses as we were the only ones on the island wearing helmets. Safety first, as always!

The road is relatively easy to negotiate, with all passers by giving you a nod and a wave as you carry on down the road. A few of the ‘hills’, and I use the term loosely, we had to walk the bikes up as the gears were not quite as accurate as they should have been, and my netball knees weren’t keen on negotiating with the pedals. Going down the hills was a breeze, literally.

We could not have asked for a better day with the sun shining, blue skies and a light wind to take the edge off as we got our heart rates pumping. The views from the road were absolutely glorious, and as already mentioned, scattered with stone houses and random livestock. The land is littered with rocks and stones although surprisingly there is still room for greenery. In many ways, Inis Mor is picture postcard olden day Ireland.

One of the main features of Inis Mor, and to where the main road leads, is Dun Aonghasa (kind of pronounced Doon Angus, for the laypeople), a stone fort erected some time during the Iron Age. Although it may have been constructed as a circular fort, of which there are a few on the Aran Islands, Dun Aonghasa is now situated on the edge of a very sheer cliff. In any case the site is both impressive and oppressive. It is truly amazing to be literally standing on the edge of a cliff looking out onto the ocean. If you’re a little bit mad, or Emmet, you might like to crawl up to the edge of the clifftop and look directly below. The OH&S issues associated with this tourist destination were abundant, as there is no barrier or fencing between hundreds of tourists and potential death. There is, of course, a barrier between the designated path and the surrounding grazing area, because we wouldn’t want any tourists having incidents with neighbouring livestock now. Of course the site is now a responsibility of the Office of Public Works and it costs 3 Euro for the pleasure of walking to the clifftop. It is, however, totally worth it.

At the top of Dun Aonghasa was the only time we experienced any hint of a change in the weather. As soon as we were back at the bottom it was clear skies and more cycling. With some concern we had approached the site leading up to the fort, conscious of what we would do with our bikes, but there is a small bike park that seems to work on the honour system. We figured that it’s a small island and no matter what the bike rental places would eventually get their bikes back, somehow, anyway. Not far from the fort is a small but pristine beach. In Ireland they have the blue flag system whereby beaches are awarded blue flags to display on their shores if they meet a set criteria relating to water quality, safety and services, and environmental management issues. Apparently the scheme runs in a number of places around the world, but the first I’ve heard of it is here in Ireland. This little beach on Inis Mor has a blue flag. It also has white sand and crystal clear water, however cold. It’s not a wavy or surfing beach but the closest thing I’ve actually seen to A BEACH since I arrived here.

The ride back to the port was the most enjoyable. The wind in our hair and a niggling ache in our bottoms as we peddled our way back. Granted, the way back was less hilly than the opposite direction so much of the return journey was legs resting in peddles and exclamations of ‘WEEEeeeeeEEEEEeeeEEEeeeeeEEeee’ as we travelled down hill. By the time we had returned to the bike shed our legs had had just about enough of us and our tummies were telling us it was time for some lunch. By this time it was around 2.15pm, and while we had passed a couple of small cafes along the way we decided that for us unfit tourist bikers it was probably best not to eat and ride. We returned our bikes, got our refund and promptly spent it on a tasty lunch at O’Malley’s at Bayview. A plate of fresh fish and chips, ham, cheese and tomato panini, a Guinness, cranberry juice, a homemade apple crumble for two, a pot of tea, and an Irish coffee later and we were ready to get back on the ferry and head back to our bed in Galway. But of course, not before picking up a sweater, which, I’ve been told, will come in mighty handy in the Irish winter, although right now I can’t imaging winter being all that bad.

As an aside, we did receive some great news while sitting outside the fort at Dun Aonghasa – Emmet has been redeployed and will be starting work with Social Welfare in a couple of weeks time.