Today, while most of County Mayo slept off its second day of championship hangovers, we set out to maximize our remaining time here in this lovely and inviting section of the country. Our itinerary took us to the island of Achill, whose windy roads constitute some of the best views along all of the Wild Atlantic Way, particularly when it’s not raining and fogged in.

It did rain today, though, so we had to settle for more dramatic mist and speculation for much of the drive. During periodic breaks in the weather, though, we could see quite well, and we made several stops at pull-offs to explore seaside fields, peer over cliffs, and converse with roadside sheep.

This is all leading up to two big Achill Island finales.

The first, rather breathtaking one was the beach at Keem, declared by some to be the most beautiful in the world. We didn’t even catch it on its best day — the lifeguard hut’s whiteboard posted the water temperature at 14 degrees C — and it was still a stunning place to visit. The approach, via a cliff-hugging access road that seemed to be an engineering marvel in the same way that bungee jumping seems to be a good way to see the underside of a bridge, definitely added a sense of adventure.

The fact that sheep were grazing mere feet from the beach reminded us it was Ireland, but the stretch of sand leading to teal-colored water in a protected cove suggested more tropical climes. There was also the advertised prospect of seeing a basking shark, a species that frequents the waters here, or some dolphins. Of course, there was the mist and the water temperature reminding us where we actually were. How cold is 14 degrees C? Google translates it to 57 degrees F. Zoe, who decided this was another good swimming opportunity, said, “It’s very cold.” For reasons unexplained, she decided not to use the sauna located in the parking lot to recover from her dip.

She recovered in her own way, and was back in her regular clothes for the trip back up the cliffside as we back-tracked to Achill Island finale number two, Gielty’s Pub, the westernmost bar in Europe. If we missed this and just kept driving, we wouldn’t have found a bar until Greenland. How can one beat that for adventure and excitement? Before you answer, I’ll tell you that their cod and chips, with the cod fried in a seaweed tempura and possibly scooped out of the waters across the street minutes before we arrived, was the best meal I’ve had in Ireland so far.

We were wet and maybe a little cold — even those of us who had not gone swimming, but we were also pretty happy with the trip. Plus, after the pub adventure, there was one more post-finale stop. A few miles back towards civilization is Slievemore, or at least the remains of it. Slievemore had been a sizable village a few centuries ago, but it was ravaged by in the mid-1800s by the Great Famine, and it was deserted completely by the early 1900s. Many walls still exist and sheep keeps pathways nibbled clear. We spent a good 45 minutes there and might have lasted longer had the rain let up. (The village was on a hillside and small streams seem to have taken over many of the walkways, so our feet were pretty wet by the time we had hiked up to the site.)

This constituted a full day for us, and, anyway, after lunch we were not even interested in taking a meal in any establishment wasn’t superlative in some manner or form. So Jen and Zoe ran out for a few pizzas and they came back with an array of ciders to sample. We hooked into the tv’s streaming menu, and were happy to find we could watch The Sheep Detectives using our amazon passwords.