People probably don’t need a primer on Irish weather. It’s rainy. Our first day in Sligo suggested otherwise, but our second day of soggy mountain climbing and drizzly beachgoing proved the original postulate.

Of course, Ireland is also said to be quite a magical place, and in between the raindrops on day three we got proof of this as well.

We took to the road again on a slimmed-down version of Jen’s original itinerary, which had us traveling farther north. That was partly due to yesterday’s heavy driving to Shannon and back, and partly due to a general late start as our bodies are all still processing the marathon travel day that started this trip.

Our inkeeper, who has been spot on with his restaurant recommendations so far, was very positive about a few of the closer locations on the spread sheet. He also said one of the places on our spreadsheet also had a good restaurant connected to it.

That’s how we ended up first at the Glencar Waterfall just over the border in County Leitrim. It was a short walk, overseen by a curious army of sheep, and we managed to coordinate the end of our walk with the opening of the excellent tea shed near the car park.

Another waterfall was reported to be just a few minutes up the narrow, narrow road, but there were no parking spaces and also no tea room in evidence, so we kept on going to our next featured stop: Streedagh Beach on a fine finger of land only 20 minutes drive away.

Here we found plenty of surf and sand playing host to a healthy community of kite surfers. At this point we also discovered today’s particular brand of Irish magic. It rained fairly steadily while we were in the car, but at both of the first two distinations, the rain stopped as soon as we parked. This was a pattern that would happily hold for us the entire day.

It was so sunny and non-rainy that Zoe decided it was time for a swim. None of us came to the same conclusion.

Not that the rest of us were opposed to the sea. The sea is good. So when clouds started to roll in at the beach, we scurried Zoe out of the waves and got back in the car for the next leg of our trip, a driving tour of the Mullaghmore Peninsula. This lovely section of what is now known as the Wild Atlantic Way (it was previously just known as the west coast of Ireland) gave us our first real taste of the drama that awaits every time the ocean comes into contact with this particular land mass.

There is a castle here, but they are smart about it and keep it in the distance so it doesn’t compete with the sea foam and rocks and such. The area is peppered liberally with sheep, which is also a good call because their aloof demeanor seems to fit into any setting. Add to the picture some improbably placed stone walls and a needlessly thin ribbon or roadway and you have a good idea of what it looks like.

It looks even better when the rain stops and the sun comes out as soon as you pull over onto the meager verge.

Once again in transit as soon as the rain re-appeared, we found ourselves in the last attraction of the afternoon, the Gleniff Horsehoe. Here we navigated a winding half-loop into a canyon with steep green sides and seemingly no peaks. Everything ended in the day’s low clouds, until, of course, we stopped a particularly dramatic location with a waterfall, abandoned farmhouse and sheep clinging to impossibly steep hillsides way, way above the valley floor.

Then, the rain stopped and the clouds gradually thinned, unveiling craggy mountain tops with drama. The drama rivaled that of the sea earlier in the day. .

After that, there was little else to do but return to the lodge (by day three, the driving part is becoming less of a story) and find a place for dinner. An interesting note: tonight’s dinner was remarkable not because the recommendation came from our inkeeper. Jen’s Korean fried chicken was very proudly advertised as “As seen on TikTok.”

Score one for the socials.