WILD ATLANTIC WAY - PART TWO-

WILD ATLANTIC WAY  -PART TWO-

 -WILD ATLANTIC WAY PT.2- DAY 1

Well, well, well… look who’s back!

After conquering Scotland’s legendary NC500, and then completing half of Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way with our bumbling, Guinness-fuelled presence two years ago, the adventure continues!

Yup. Here we go again! 

For anyone thinking, what the eff is this???... you're needing a recap of our last escapades. Hit this link:

https://linktr.ee/wezzhowe

Now, here we are ... 2025. A little older, less wiser, and, quite frankly, just a little bit fatter. But our thirst for adventure (and Guinness) remains undiminished.

This time, we’re back in Ireland to finish what we started. We aim to complete the majestic Wild Atlantic Way. Expect rugged coastlines, windswept cliffs, and plenty of craic and castles.

I'd like to think we have upgraded from 'mere tourists' to 'returning legends.'?... hopefully our names are still muttered in hushed tones at certain pubs south of Galway?

But likely, eyes will be rolled upon our return. 

Anyways, two years have passed, and we're coming back to the utterly amazing Emerald Isle to finish the adventure!

Our hearts beat wild for its wilderness and its beauty. 

... and hey! It's a sequel, so let's call this The Eire-Pire Strikes Back! 

Ok. Maybe not.

Regardless, our noble crew of four shall venture from where we left off last time. From the far western shores of Galway to the misty nooks of Northern Ireland, the Wild Atlantic Way, in all its absolute beauty, needs to be completed. 

This is no ordinary holiday. This is a pilgrimage. A quest. A bold, reckless odyssey powered by diesel, dodgy playlists, and questionable decision-making.

So buckle up, dear readers. The lads are back. The Guinness is calling. The rain will be horizontal. And the toadstools await their gold coins.

We absolutely love Ireland, and we will tell you why, again, over the next 7 days.

May the road rise up to meet us. May the wind be always at our backs. And may the toilets be suitable for Olly (seriously, you need to catch up on our previous adventures 😂)

Let the madness begin…

Daily updates to follow.

Wezz, Gav, Olly & Craig 

Sláinte!

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WILD ATLANTIC WAY PT.2 DAY.2

Okey dokey, let's do this!

So ... let's start at the start.

The four of us were up before the sun even considered hitting snooze. Our first Herculean task was catching an ungodly early Ryanair flight to Dublin ... because who doesn't love flying inside a glorified sandwich bag with wings?

Naturally, walking through Duty Free, I took one look at the Penderyn whiskey stand and decided that, yes! This is the breakfast of champions! Several free samples later, I was emotionally prepared for anything Ryanair could throw at me, including, but not limited to, fighting for elbow space and pretending my knees don’t exist.

Our airport breakfasts were inhaled with the grace of a pack of raccoons at a buffet. Moments later, the airport tannoy blurted out our gate announcement in a tone that said Run! Now!

Off we went, poorly fed, and fueled by chaos! 

After a flight so fast and surprisingly comfy it felt like teleportation with snacks, we touched down and secured our hire car.

Craig nobly volunteered as the first designated driver, and while Gav and Olly chatted about nonsense,  I, being a master of tactical napping, seized the moment and began my first scheduled snooze of the day. Strategy.

Halfway across the expanse of Ireland, destiny called ... and by destiny, I mean the uncontrollable urge to pee.

TOILET STOP: ACTIVATED.

We pulled into Ballinasloe Service Station, a monument of mediocrity nestled behind petrol pumps and crushed dreams. And now, the moment you've all been waiting for…

OLLY’S TOILET TOUR™ — Official Poop Place Scoreboard

Location: Ballinasloe Service Station

Rating: A whopping 3/10

Why so low, you ask?

It was clean. It had toilet paper ...

But alas, it had just one solitary toilet, hidden at the back of the shop like some kind of porcelain secret. A queue of distressed ladies waited outside, forming a line more tense than Breaking Bad's finale.

And the twist? THERE WAS NO ONE IN THE TOILET.

The door was just shut with no one in there.

Meanwhile, poor Olly danced around while his bladder cried out for mercy, his soul slowly leaving his body. 

The verdict?

Points were lost for the psychological trauma.

Onwards to Galway!

__________________________

Okay. I’m documenting everything from this point forward from my bed at 2am...very drunk...

What happened next was nothing short of legendary...

- We booked into our accommodation. Seriously, the place is run by Mo Salah! I hope he's on shift tomorrow so I can get a pic of him.

- We drank dangerous quantities of creamy pints. Enough to drown a small mammal.

Galway is beautiful. 

- We watched Everton’s emotional farewell to their beloved home ground. Tears. Beers. Possibly a few confused locals wondering why we cared.

Only one of us really did.

- Gav heroically battled the WiFi gods to keep a signal on my phone for the Scunthorpe vs Chester promotion final. A spiritual struggle.

I don't want to talk about it 

- At one pub, the bar staff mistakenly poured my Guinness into a 0.0% Guinness glass. Now the lads think I'm lame, and continue to insist I have my Guinness in a 0.0% Guinness glass for the rest of the day.

-Pizza. Sweet, glorious pizza. Our carb-filled peace offering to the gods of stout.

The four of us talked football.

Some were joyful. Some were broken.

But then... music happened.

And just like that, we cast aside our football-based emotional baggage, hugged it out, and basked in a euphoric, almost spiritual live music session delivered by an unexpected father/daughter duo. 

Legends. 

Pure vibes. 

Craig joined in like a rockstar.

Magic.

Then came the walk back to our Bed & Breakfast. Innocent. Simple. Or so we thought...

We reached the car to grab our bags.

The boot wouldn’t open.

The key didn’t work.

We pressed every button like chimps trying to launch a rocket. We pulled every available latch and lever!

Nothing.

We cursed. We clicked. We even sweet-talked the car. Still no luck.

And then ...... the revelation. The plot twist of all plot twists!

It. Wasn’t. Our. Car.

It wasn’t even our Bed & Breakfast.

We were, in fact, trespassing on the lives of complete strangers like drunken, confused burglars.

We are idiots.

I have not laughed this hard since primary school.

Once we recalibrated our location and sense of reality, we staggered next door to the correct house, the correct car, and finally... our correct beds.

Blimey. 

More daily updates to follow

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WILD ATLANTIC WAY DAY.3

Four very rough heads, (each testament to last night's poor decisions) emerged from the depths of our duvets. We showered, stumbled downstairs, and, miraculously, found the right car on the first try. Destiny was calling. 

The journey begins in earnest now! We are not just in search of pubs and pints (although we deeply respect them). No, our souls crave more. Majestic mountains! Epic views! Nature, unfiltered and uncensored!

Leaving Galway behind, we made a tactical strike on the coast just past Loughaunbeg. And it was glorious. The sun blazed, the sea glittered, and best of all ... seals. The majestic, slippery potatoes of the sea, bobbing about, watching us, watching them

That coastal breeze hit us, clearing our heads faster than holy water. Combined with paracetamol, hydration, and the ever-powerful belief that we might survive this day, we were reborn.

Onwards, adventurers! The hangovers are now just a mere memory. 

With the majestic Maamturk Mountains rising beside us, we pressed onward through a landscape that felt torn from legend, panoramic vistas stretching endlessly, every turn revealing Ireland’s raw and poetic beauty.

This is the main draw for our adventures. Nature really stokes our soul-coals, and the four of us are at total peace with life because of it.

Our journey paused at a hidden gem of a village called Roundstone, where time seemed to slow. There, we scoffed cheese and ham bagels by the beachfront while we embraced some vitamin Sea and vitamin D. Gav launched his drone, capturing the serenity from above.

Then came Dogs Bay, a vision so surreal, you'd believe you had stepped into the Bahamas. The sand, bleached white and smooth as silk, merged into the turquoise water, glistening beneath a pure blue sky.

Absolutely beautiful. 

Next stop, Bunowen Bay, another amazing sandy beach. Both myself and Craig have been hankering to get in the water. So that's exactly what we did. Surprisingly, it wasn't as cold as we expected. 

We did get a tad apprehensive about the crabs.

Then it was off to Clifden for a pint and a sandwich, and then straight on to Clifden Castle, because guess what? We love castles! Castles are epic! Turrets? Yup. Old stone walls that have seen centuries of drama and probably some mild ghost activity? Double yup!

At this point, exhaustion hit like a rogue wave. But worry not, Gav booked us into Delphi Spa Resort. 

The spa shut at 6pm, which pissed Gav off because he loves a jacuzzi. 

Room arrangements: Craig and Olly bunked up, while Gav and I shared a room. Within minutes, Craig and Olly managed to flood their room. The cause? A coffee machine.

Yep.

I have no idea how this is physically possible, and they did try to explain, but I was laughing too hard to hear their reply.

Loads of soggy towels everywhere, apparently. 

Meanwhile, in our room, Gav took it upon himself to become Head of Housekeeping and spent a good while being dramatic every time I put a sock somewhere 'unsuitable'

Naturally, we wrapped the day up with a few pints and a meal so good we entered a collective food coma. 

Now I’m tucked up in bed before 10pm writing this ... which either means I'm aging rapidly or I’ve truly peaked.

Top day. Would recommend. 

Note to Olly and Craig: Bring your own coffee machine next time ... preferably one that doesn’t trigger a tsunami 😂

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Wild Atlantic Way Day.4

Alrighty! We go again!

Gav and I rose at 6am after a full night's sleep. Feeling refreshed, we stepped out for a 5K walk through the surrounding forest. With only a cloud of midges to keep us company, we caught the sunrise from behind Mweelrea, the colossal surrounding mountain. The Delphi Resort sure does offer adventure and relaxation.There were no crowds, no noise… only the soothing hum of bastard bloodthirsty midges orbiting our heads. 

Upon our return, we met up with Olly and Craig for breakfast. They both had a much needed lie-in. 

The four of us ate like kings. Gav whipped out his phone, cast a few digital spells, and bam! Our next night's stay was secured further up north. 

Wizardry.

Off we set, ready for Tuesday's offerings

Close by is Aasleagh Falls, a scenic waterfall. It's quite dramatic, with a series of cascades and pools that flow down the rocky slopes of the river.

'Don't go chasing waterfalls' ... that was a warning TLC sang to us years ago.

Stuff you, TLC! We break the rules because we're edgy and dangerous! Waterfalls are ace, especially this one.

Gav got some spectacular drone footage. 

... while there, an elderly German couple asked Gav about the drone footage he captured. He kindly offered to email it to them.

Craig wanted to film us mooning from the bridge and send them that instead.

I'm gutted we didn't now.

Next up was a pit stop at the majestic Mulranny Beach with its views of Clew Bay and towering mountains in the background. We got enough salty sea air to exfoliate our souls

Then, onward to the legendary Achill Island! You’d think reaching an island would involve a dramatic ferry ride or at least a swim ... but nope, there’s a road bridge, which might be a bit anti-climactic, but who are we to argue with convenience.

Our noble quest led us to Cloughmore Pier in search of a boat tour. Towering above us was the brooding Kildownat Castle (you know we love castles). The place was deserted. Undeterred, Craig and his inner pirate leapt onto a moored boat and tried to row out ... If that thing hadn’t been tied down, we'd be tracking his journey across the Atlantic by now.

The entire island is jaw-droppingly beautiful! Its like Ireland’s nature dial has been turned up to epic. No wonder they filmed The Banshees of Inisherin here. That masterpiece movie captured the raw beauty and delightful madness of remote island life. I absolutely love that movie. 

A pint at Ted's Bar, then further up the road to eat sandwiches, and then a visit to Slievemore's deserted village, which is impossibly perched high up on the side of a mountain ... and my guess, because of that, is why its deserted. 

Then we were ready for relaxation, so it's over to Bellmullet to our fancy Airbnb. Gav, the booking .com whisperer, fueled by caffeine, had secured our palace in the morning... a plush, cavernous Airbnb that promised shelter, sanctuary, and steak. It was to be our home, pub, and Michelin-starred kitchen for the night.

We put Bruce Springsteen on YouTube as Gav cooked steak and spuds.

The Sun was still blazing as we ate, drank beers, and relaxed.

Utter paradise. 

And hey! Black pudding on steak! 

Genius. 

Then we had more beer. We talked for hours, trading stories and laughs while awesome music played in the background. Our adventures take us to wild and wonderful places... through epic landscapes and unexpected turns.

... and somehow, we always end up with beers in hand, soaking in the moment. There’s something great about the spontaneity... we make no plans (well, Gav does, a bit), just going where the day leads. Every day brings a new story, and we’re always ready for the next one.

Yup 🙌

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Wild Atlantic Way Day.5

With fuzzy heads, we awoke around 8am. Gav was already up, likely since 4am.

I gave him a fanfare of flatulence from the toilet as my morning greeting.

The only thing to clear our heads is a plunge into cold water!... so off to Béal an Mhuirthead Tidal Pool, a fantastic open air pool where you can swim any time irrespective of the tides. It was invigorating and kicked our hangovers heads in! 

We emerged from the waters reborn

A return to our Airbnb for a victory feast, and then we are off again on our adventures with bellies full and spirits high. Bags were thrown into the car, Craig took driving durties and off into the wild unknown, ready to chase adventure, and possibly a few pints.

Note:

I've completely avoided any driving whatsoever this week. I'm having to log our activities as they happen from the back seat. It's almost impossible to recount our steps at the end of the day, especially after a gallon of ale. So this is my purpose and place. 

I think the lads are fine with this arrangement? If not, then they can find their inner Paul Theroux and document all this instead. 

That's said, Olly has had the car airborne few times, so I might take his turn next? 

...but thinking about it, it's worth the danger just to enjoy his 360 parking ... the car changes direction twenty times to face the same way he started. Brilliant .

Yet again! Perfect weather! I very much doubt Northern Ireland will be blessing us with anything other than rain? Surely? We will see. But for now, it is pure sunshine. 

A quick stop off near Muingelly to appreciate the colossal cliffs and watch Gavs drone flying skills. 

As someone who often works at height, these cliffs made my palms sweat. Feeling the breeze push around your body as you creep closer to the edge is body tingling. The French have a unique phrase,  l’appel du vide ... which is better known as 'the call of the void'. You have the inexplicable compulsion to jump? You have no intention of actually acting on this impulse, or feeling like ending yourself, but it’s an eerie passing-thought paradox, nonetheless. Not everyone gets the feeling, but I definitely do.

Another example is the thought of ploughing your car through the barriers and into a ditch ... which I think Olly gets a bit when it's his turn to drive.

Next stop is Downpatrick Head to witness the mighty Dún Briste Sea Stack, an imposing sea pillar. Legend has it a nasty 'orge-pirate' called Grodruisc was left stranded on it for being a bit of a twat. 

We all know an orge twat or two we'd like to do the same to.

This coastline here is epic. Apparently the views can be limited on certain days if its misty, but we are blessed with the wonderful weather. The Wild Atlantic Way really does push you headfirst into a raw, windswept wilderness where every cliff and horizon feels like the edge of the world. It’s nature turned epic, and we’re right in the heart of it.

Our journey takes us to see the ‘SS Crete Boom’, an old concrete ship in Ballina lying on the river. 

Yes, a concrete boat. 

That must have cemented their place in history.  

It was here that we devoured Craig's carefully created sandwiches. Proper nice, too!

Due to our late morning start, we then had to cover a fair few miles. But we reached Donegal by 4:30pm, and then checked in at our rather nice hotel that Gav booked first thing, The Central.

There's great facilities, and Gav can now have his jacuzzi! 

Me and Olly, being the glistening, hench adonises ,chose to get pumped at the hotel gym, while Craig got to face time his family.

Then, out for food and beers!

Ok... Next bit ...

Football. 

Geez, a London club or Man U? Urrgh.... some sort of lower league European cup was on?

We made sure Gav never walked alone 😄

But honestly, awful match. Same about the teams. 

I want to kick this one about for at least another 10 paragraphs...but I won't. 

Then, live music and an excessive amount of spirits! The pub opposite our hotel looked like a tiny, weird, slightly spacious shoebox?... but it expanded into a city! We got lost in there... pretty sure we crossed three time zones to reach the end of it?

We went in for a pint... we left absolutely annihilated. 

Kebabs.

Bed.

Tomorrow is all about Muff 😏

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Wild Atlantic Way Day.6

Ooof, more hangovers. But nothing a bottle of Gaviscon, 4 litres of water, and paracetamol can't fix.

The weather has turned a touch cloudy, but still no rain! The Irish weather gods are looking favourably upon us yet again.

We were mobile by 9am, and ready to seek out more of Ireland’s wonder. A short drive to the stunning Assaranca Waterfall in Donegal (Near Ardara) was our first stop. Lovely and peaceful. Even with the lack of rainfall in the area recently, the waterfall still packs a punch. As the water cascaded down from high-up rocks into a deep black pool, we were mesmerised by its beauty. 

Overhead, birds of prey, circling high on the thermals. We couldn’t identify them with certainty, but their sleek silhouettes suggested peregrine falcons? Epic lords of the sky, keeping watch over this beautiful corner of the world.

We travelled the Glengesh Pass, a stunning, scenic winding road in County Donegal. The mountainous views here are breathtaking. The road doesn’t just wind, it serpentines, slicing through jaw-dropping valleys.

Bloomin marvelous. 

During a stop, we got chatting to a true Irish sage called Hugh. He urged us to see Slieve League.

That made it two votes for the cliffs in less than 24 hours ... John, a charming Irish bloke from the night before, had already made an impassioned plea for us to visit there.

The distance was a compromise on our time, but we now had to go!

So off we went. Slieve League, the mighty cliff-beast of Europe, towering 601 metres into the heavens like it was auditioning for a Tolkien movie.

After a swift shuttle bus ride driven by a man who doubled as a historian and part-time stand-up comic, the cliffs revealed themselves. And wow. It is breathtakingly beautiful. 

Gav unleashed the drone. It soared. It dove. It captured the cliffs like a cinematic eagle.

Next up, Kilclooney Dolmen, a bit like the Irish Stonehenge’s quirky cousin.

It’s a portal tomb, or as locals might call it- some big feckin’ rocks.

Olly, our resident expert in completely unverified archaeology, reckons the structure was used as a sacrificial altar. According to him, this is where ancient druids offered up screaming maidens to appease the gods of endless Irish drizzle. 

Talking of drizzle, not a drop. We have, yet again, dodged the bad weather! 

Dungloe is up next for a pub lunch, then a long drive ...

We finally arrived at Malin Head, the most northerly point of mainland Ireland.

And just like that… we conquered the Wild Atlantic Way!

From the rugged beauty of Kinsale in County Cork to the windswept heights of Malin Head in Donegal, we’ve journeyed the full length of Ireland’s legendary western coast in two parts!

Two years ago, we tasted adventure and covered half the trail. This year, we returned with fire in our hearts and finished what we started.

1,600 miles of untamed coastline, roaring surf, ancient cliffs, and wild, endless skies. Done!

What a ride. What a country. 

Along with the NC500, the Wild Atlantic Way is now complete!

To celebrate, we finally ticked Muff off our bucket list... been longing to go down there for ages! Muff, a place where the craic is mighty, and the name is cheeky 

Driving in, we passed The Muff Liquor Company.

... read that last bit again.

After spotting that, I headed straight to Google! Surely not???? 

And yes!!!

There is an official Muff Diving Club!

We're here to experience Muff! Who doesn't love Muff? Muff is warm and inviting. Once you go Muff, you never get enough! 

I bet now we've arrived, the tongues will be wagging in Muff...

Ok OK, enough Muff innuendo. Our wives will kill us.

So, onto our humble Airbnb, which is mega-awesome! A quirky house, its own pub with pool table, fountains, hot tub, little nooks to kick back in. It's utter aceness!

We were planning a night off the beer, but we have our own tavern! So we said sorry to our livers. 

Supplies and takeaway sorted, we had the evening ahead. 

And to top it off, the Airbnb owner even dropped a guitar off for us.

So it was tunes and pool, total relaxation. Then, to the outside snug, a blazing fire, strumming guitar and singing. Songs old and new, woven in the warmth of firelight and friendship. 

Nothing short of magical. 

We love Muff.

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Wild Atlantic Way Day.7

Up. Coffee. Car!

Let's go!

And so, off we went. First stop, a guitar factory!

To set the scene - On our last trip to Ireland in '23, I casually mentioned Emerald Guitars to the lads. They're this wildly cool guitar company tucked away in the Irish countryside. They make premium prestige carbon fibre, custom-built masterpiece guitars. Basically, the Lamborghini of guitars.

I told the lads I built my dream guitar on their website, complete with every spec and unreasonable desire. Then I mentioned the price... and the lads burst out laughing. They declared they would take me there!  A noble gesture ... I insisted there was absolutely no way I could afford one. All the same, I checked the map. The factory was in the far-off wilds of the North. The dream died.

Until now.

We didn’t call ahead. We didn’t book a tour. We just rocked up to their factory, full of misplaced confidence and blind hope.

To our amazement, we were met with open arms. Caolán (an absolute legend) gave us the grand tour, walking us through their stunning collection of acoustics, electrics, and everything in between. He kept passing me different guitars, allowing me to play each one of them!

I was grinning like a kid in a sweet shop. Except the sweets were guitars. And I couldn't afford any of them.

It was guitar heaven. 

What a treat. And kudos to Emerald Guitars for allowing four ragtag idiots calling in unannounced. It was the friendliest welcome and highly enjoyable. They didn't charge us a penny. In fact, Caolán didn't want us to leave! 

I'm pretty sure he didn't want to return to his desk.

Bloomin love guitars, me.

That was pretty special!

As we left the Emerald Guitars factory behind, the road carried us northward .... quietly, and without my notice, we crossed an invisible border. One moment we were in Ireland, the next, Northern Ireland had claimed the landscape. It was the potholes that gave it away, and the change in road signs ... a subtle but striking reminder we had crossed into the UK.

And so, we arrived in Derry or Londonderry. 

This city holds history in its stones. Gav was stationed here many years ago, and walking its streets now, we were struck by the transformation. Especially in the area he once knew, the changes were profound.

We crossed the Peace Bridge on foot. Its a graceful arc of steel and symbolism spanning the River Foyle. Its architectural beauty is breathtaking, but it’s the weight of its meaning that lingers. Built to unite communities long divided, it stands as a powerful testament to healing and hope.

Quite poignant indeed.

Onwards then, and a quick stop at Benone Beach with its imposing cliffs. You can drive on the beach, and seeing as it was quite deserted, the sand was practically begging for bad decisions! I checked my seat belt and then encouraged Olly to do some figures of 8s and doughnuts in the sand. Next was Craig, who was in his element! It was great to see them channelling the spirit of a demented rally driver. The beach will never be the same.

Plus, no one died.

The rain finally started. But we have been blessed with the sunshine all week, so our spirits were not dampened. 

And talking of spirits, all of a sudden, we were at the Bushmills Distillery! 

I will quote Gav here - We've had some muff! Now we'll have some bush!

Yup, Muff Gin was nice, but it's well documented my love of Irish whiskey! Yet again, our promise of a non alcohol day was compromised. 

--------------------

Ok, I'm writing the rest of this after bit worse for wear after yet another session.

Kin ell...

After Bushmills Distillery we found yet another majestic castle, because, we love castles! That one was extra-ace.

Next stop, The Giants Causeway car park, which we immediately reversed out of because it cost approximately a kidney and half your nan’s pension to park there. 

Same scam at some rope bridge. We were not paying that kind of money to wobble over the North Atlantic Ocean.

.... I don't even need to see the Giants Causeway. I’ve got Led Zeppelin’s Houses of the Holy album ... same rocks, more guitar solos.

We definitely did something else though... brain’s a bit pished ..... ah yes! A Game of Thrones filming location, a harbour, someone got eaten by a dragon. 

That was ace.

And then our Airbnb at Glenarm. 

Oh! Wait! We went to see The Dark Hedges! Which weren't hedges. They're a fancy avenue of beech trees. That was awesome. It was planted by the Stuart family in the eighteenth century.

Patrick Stewart from Star Trek, I think?

Blimey, he must be getting on a bit.

And then our Airbnb at Glenarm.

We only had breakfast, so we were starving. The only place to eat is the pub, where they have pizza delivered. (Hang on?... maybe they could have delivered to our Airbnb address?... too late now)

While waiting for our pizza to arrive at the pub, we found ourselves deep in conversation with just about everyone in there. The Airbnb host happened to be there too, and to our surprise, she bought a round of pints for us all. The regulars were absolute legends too.

It always seems to happen this way. We meet the most genuine, warm-hearted people on our travels. And there's something especially magical about Ireland and Northern Ireland... the whole island. Folks don’t just exchange a quick hello here, they stop for a proper chat, the kind that makes you feel like you’ve known them for years.

It's brilliant!

Honestly, it’s moments like these that are the soul of our travels. Forget the sights for a second, it’s the people you meet that leave the real mark.

Anyways, Craig was press-ganged into singing a few songs. Bless him, you could tell he didn't want to as there was no guitar or backing band... but he did... the pub fell silent to listen in, and a rapturous applause afterwards. Some of the regulars sang a few. 

Top night!

I'll be honest, at this point, my kidneys have filed a restraining order, and my liver has stopped talking to me. My guts are so bloated I could float back home. 

We've tried to take a day off the booze this week, but apparently the universe has us on a drink or die loyalty program. 

And tomorrow? Oh, lord ...

A whole day and night in Belfast!

There will be a final post on Belfast, but I've no idea when it'll drop? 

These posts are to save us all writing postcards to our wives, and I'm pretty sure we'll be 5 minutes from home by the time I finish that one.

I will try my best. But it will be later than usual. 

Anyways, we go again! 🤘

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Ok, so I'm writing this the day after Belfast. 

My body and brain are beaten, but Belfast is beautiful!

A picture paints a thousand words, and I don't think I've got a thousand words in me today, guys. So enjoy Gav's carefully compiled collection of pics from yesterday. 

What day! What a week! We are blessed. This adventure has taken us from Galway to Belfast. We completed the second stage of The Wild Atlantic Way. A triumphant trek, awesome adventure, and it was a fantastic finale for our final day!

An epic journey indeed!

The whole experience only fuels our next one. 

What began as a simple plan over pints and laughter at a family get-together (Yup, we're all related somehow) soon became something else entirely. The four of us ticked off the NC500 and the Wild Atlantic Way.

Every year or so, we set our sights on our next odyssey. 

It's not just the land that shapes our stories, its the journey itself. 

And ya know, at the end of the day, its not just about the coastlines or the cliffs.

It's about the craic 

Its about the adventure.

It's about friendship

... and a fair few pints together 🍺 

Until next time, we bid ya farewell. 

Wezz, Gav, Olly & Craig

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