A hill not much more than 80 feet high is hardly a strenuous climb. We were soon on top of this little local world – the causewayed island of Omey.
A cairn had been built. If that’s not included in the official height then it is nearer 90 feet high.
This view looks back over Clifden to the Twelve Pins.
A narrow band of sea separated Omey from the mainland to the west, around Tonashindilla – now there’s a lovely name.
‘Top o’ the world to you.’
We started back down. Enjoying the thyme that we found.
Local rocks on Omey and the Twelve Pins – some 20 kilometres away.
Surprisingly the snails seemed to like the rocks.
There were swans on the lake on Omey.
They did not seem to know that those of us from over the Irish Sea are inclined to feed swans. They kept their distance.
Here was lakeside and yes, the blue sky peeped through.
We were now heading back to the inhabited part of the island, a place where starlings could make use of electricity wires.
Photographers could decide a bike leaning on a wall was a good subject.
Or maybe we could just enjoy the ever-present fuchsias. These are not the delicate James Lye (of Market Lavington) cultivars, but the near enough wild plant.
We reached the causeway – now so wide that it hardly seemed like a causeway.
The view back across to the mainland at Claddaghduff.
The view sideways, across the causeway shows just how wide it gets. There are people out on the edge.
Six days previously we could have indulged in the Irish passion for horse racing on the causeway.
Photo from http://www.connemaraireland.com/
Instead of horses and parked cars by the many, on this occasion we had a solitary tractor.
We arrived back on the mainland side having revived memories of those long ago days in 1971.
