Saturday 3rd October 2026
Feohanagh To Cloghane
Pulled back the curtains and the old Dinah Washington song ‘What A Difference A Day Makes’ immediately sprung to mind with sunny skies and hardly a breath of wind. That augured well for a day where we couldn’t avoid crossing the shoulder of MtBrandon at a mere 800 and something metres up.
Had a great chat with mine host who like her daughter had a background in teaching Irish to the kids at school. Learning Irish to preserve the culture is mandatory, unless you are overseas born.
Like everything else at the B and B, breakfast and the takeaway lunch was great and within half an hour we had enjoyed a circuitous car ride in magnificent surrounds to reach the trail head.
Attempting this walk yesterday would have been an absolute no go and the weather left it’s mark with the track a mini stream and anywhere off it a bog waiting to send you boot deep in mud. That was to add to the long relentless up for the first hour and a half and then the lung busting 60’ degree surge to the top.
There was plenty of opportunity to stop and take in the great coastal views as you wondered where the next lungful of air was coming from.
Only a few people on the trail and they at least gave you a marker to follow. The cairn at the top was a welcome sight.
The towns below were but a speck when we took off downhill on a very different surface of stepping stones , still wet from yesterday and often steep and covered by foliage. Thank Lord for the walking poles for balance.
To our amazement we ran into a bloke carrying a bicycle up the path and we had no idea how he was going to get down. We did see his car at the bottom so perhaps there was a secret road hikers were not told of.
Even us getting down presented a challenge where a land slip from high on the hill had covered the path. Getting through that was a wet and muddy exercise.
Halfway down it flattened out a little and we had lunch at a sheep drenching station.
From there the road, if you could call it that, meandered its wat steeply downhill with our usual sheep buddies giving us a curious look. Another 90 minutes and we were in flatter ground after about 18 Kms.
Vasco pulled out the map and detected a shortcut which could cut the last 8 Kms in half and we were in it in a flash. Whilst a lot of local cars used it and buzzed us, the stop to let them past provided plenty of time to take in the view and increase the sugar levels by supping on the the luscious blackberries.
We followed the shores of the huge bay on which our quaint hotel was situated, finally flopping into the bar to be greeted by a boy from Batlow and a few other walkers who had taken a cab or managed to find a shortcut.
One had got clipped by a local farmer whose tea and sympathy was ‘ you shouldn’t be on the road where I am driving’. Thankfully no major injury was sustained unlike his walking partner whose blistered feet was a worse injury , along with 5 stitches in his head from an argument with a low door.
An enjoyable half hour being entertained by mine host over a couple of beets before lugging the bags upstairs to our spacious room with a splendid view out over the camping area to the bay.
Bit of a rest and tidying up for a great night with a couple of Aussies from west of Toowoomba swapping stories about walks and holidays and the usual jibes between cameras and cockroaches.
Just on critters, we were warned about some mossie borne disease happening in Europe. When we went into our room after dinner there was one that big you would need a blood transfusion if it bit you.
We didn’t quite make the 930 music and went to bed mulling over whether it’s boots or bare feet on our 11 Kms of beach walking tomorrow.
