The Great Western Greenway

Day 7: Our day begins as everyday day has for the last week: breakfast. This particular morning was a treat because we dined with Frank and Patrick. Frank grew up in Westport, served in the RAF during WWII, then moved to Chicago was a firefighter, and eventually retired to Half Moon Bay in California; Patrick is his son who currently resides in Chicago. The pair were in town for a cousins wedding, and they were already showing signs of partying and speaking of naps. They were a hoot and kept us well entertained with their banter back and forth with the staff.

After our morning meal, we loaded up our laundry and took it to the cleaners for some fluff and fold action. Then we went across the street and rented bikes for the day. Westport is the origin of the Great Western Greenway, a bike and jogging path which was once a narrow gauge railroad. Sometime in the 1930s the railway closed, and in 2010 the path opened beginning in Westport to Mulranny and then extended to Achill the following year. The path runs 42 km (26 miles) and has become a European Mecca for cyclists round the world.

We were told that Achill was hilly and to bike to Crough Patrick. We weren't sure about that, but thought we should stick to the trail. However our directions were poor and we started heading the wrong way...up a giant hill. So we began our ride by walking our bikes up a hill, riding down, realizing we turned the wrong way, walked our bikes up hill again, then rode them down finally starting the ride to Newport. Once we were finally on the right course it was beautiful, bucolic rolling hills, riding alongside pastures and natives plants. We reached Newport in just over an hour and had a lovely lunch of chicken club sandwich and chicken wings with LOTS of water. The weather was overcast and slightly damp, perfect for a cardio workout. After lunch we tootled around Newport, two coffee shops, four pubs, a bank, a post, and St Patrick's church. After visiting one of the pubs we opted to see the gorgeous stained glass at St Patrick's, done by famed artist Henry Clarke. 

Sore from our ride to Newport we realized our bike company did not offer shuttle pick up and we would need to ride back to Westport. This leg of the ride took us just under 2 hours and was a tad more uphill. By the time we reached Westport we were exhausted  and extremely proud of ourselves. We certainly would do it again, but would take water and ask to upgrade to gel cushioned bike seats.

Learning from our dinner the previous night, we sought out reservations for what was sure to be a busy Friday night. We were able to reserve a spot at the Westport pubhouse institution that is JJ O'Malley's. Mom ordered the lamb which was tender and cooked to perfection but wasn't a fan of the marsala style sauce which adorned her plate. Allison and I split the surf and turf: sirloin with prawns, veg and wedges. It was amazing. The steak was.so tender I could cut it easily with my butter knife. We were thoroughly impressed and enjoyed treating ourselves to a really fancy night out.