The Wild Atlantic Way -Series 2 | FEATURE

‘Hi, I’m Mike and I’m from California. I don’t know what these vehicles are but they’re bitchin!’

And with that introduction from yet another American tourist, we unpacked and checked into our hotel in Ennis, Ireland. Mark McClurkin and the Ulster Lambretta Club were our hosts for this; the Wild Atlantic Way Classic Scoot Tour – Series 2. 

This was the second tour of the Wild Atlantic Way, unfortunately delayed by Covid. The tour was to start from Kilrush to Galway, then to Westport and ending in Ballina on Bank Holiday Sunday. 500 miles scooting over three days beside stunning coastline and scenery with like-minded people. What’s not to like?

What is WAW?

First off, the Wild Atlantic Way, or Slí an Atlantaigh Fhiáin in Irish, is a tourism trail that follows the Atlantic coastline from the north of Donegal to the south coast of Cork. The 1,553-mile driving route passes through nine counties and three provinces, stretching from County Donegal’s Inishowen Peninsula to the southern town of Kinsale in County Cork on the coast of the Celtic Sea. Although we were only going to ride a little part of it.

Nothing new

It should be noted the WAW Route is in fact nothing new to the Irish as it’s been there long before the Irish Tourist Board came up with the idea of rebranding and upgrading a couple of hundred miles of narrow, broken roads only ever used by farmers, sheep and teenagers on their way to the nearest airport to look for work abroad. In the last several years or so since the rebranding, the western coastal roads have been upgraded with WAW Route signposts liberally planted along the way so the mapless tourist won’t get lost. Being underdeveloped it retains its wild, empty rugged nature and the absolute opposite of the ruined French and Spanish Mediterranean coasts destroyed by ugly high-rise hotels and apartment blocks. So, Ireland’s lack of this type of development makes booking hotels, B&B etc. essential well in advance of your trip during high season, at least six months in advance if you ever think of riding it. It also hasn’t been ruined by its own success, like the North Coast 500 in Scotland.

A large part of this route is most definitely closed to coaches and “difficult” for any large vehicle due to the small roads. But to get to the point, the best way to travel this route is by two wheels and for good reason.

There are also the Irish themselves who have an inherently open, curious and friendly nature, always game for a bit of a craic. This character came about from Ireland’s mainly farming culture where the only focal points in small towns and communities for meeting friends and neighbours was either in church or in the pub. Often the village pub would ‘double job’ by being a grocery or hardware store during the day and bar by night, which is where the tradition of hanging old bicycles, kettles, farm tools or any old shite on walls and shelves comes from.

Dead drunk

Up until the late 19th century village pubs were the only building that had a cold storage room, and so would also act as morgues for keeping the dead, so some bars were also the village undertakers. There is also the ancient tradition of “entertaining yourself and others” which has not been lost in Ireland, especially in the west. So, if you do go for a quick pint and a chat in a pub you can often find yourself surrounded by traditional musicians and your “quiet pint” turns into what most foreigners would describe as an impromptu party, AKA – a piss-up.

Fellow travellers

Before I go any further, let me introduce you to my riding companions: firstly Chris ‘I don’t snore’ Howlett on his TS1 230 fitted with an ozone-depleting 35mm Mikuni carb, followed by Dave ‘Diagonal’ Loveday riding his Quattrini Series 1 (that somehow seemed to get all the public’s attention) and finally Alex ‘Strap On’ Parney Parnham with his rocket ship SST265. Me, I was old skool on my iron barrel Stage 4 with solid mount carb.

The other WAW riders were on a mix of machines but most were riding Lambrettas. There were also a few Vespas, but everyone was on a geared scoot as far as I could tell – not a pork pie hat amongst them.

Bouncy

The plan was to have a night in Dublin and then ride to Ennis, which was the closest we could get accommodation to the start point in Kilrush 20 miles away. But we already had a problem. Parney’s forks were handling like bent pogo sticks and giving him real issues. It didn’t help either as we rode off the beaten path and past an overturned car in the middle of the road, having just flipped on loose chippings, the driver nowhere to be seen. A reminder of what can happen on these roads.

By the time we got to Ennis and met ‘Mike from California’ we were putting out a call for help on the WAW Facebook page and considering our options as the fork springs were totally spring bound. At worst, we could find a welder and bodge them with washers, but a local scooterist called Paul answered our prayers & came down from Galway with a set and the necessary tools. Ah, the power of the social hub. It meant we’d miss the official group photo and start in Kilrush but it couldn’t be helped.

In your own time

I pulled into the Tesco car park just in time to see the last WAW riders leave and to also realise that Chris and Parney weren’t behind us. In traditional scooterist fashion, they’d ridden right past the turning and joined another group of scooters. But at the end of the day, it didn’t matter that we didn’t meet them up until later in the afternoon.

The great thing about these events is that you can go at your own pace, it’s not a race and you’ll be bumping into other riders throughout the journey. ‘Diagonal Dave’ and I continued past the Cliffs of Moher and the stunning Burren, a vast, moon-like landscape of grey rock etched with crevices and cracks that tumbled down to the wild blue Atlantic Ocean.

Lost passport

We continued along the coastal road and pulled into a petrol station a few miles outside Galway. There were scooters everywhere and a major engine rebuild going on by the forecourt. Meeting the lads again, we rode into Galway without ‘Daft Diagonal Dave’ who had to retrace his steps to a café where he’d left his man bag, which held his wallet and passport. Luckily the owner was kindly waiting for his return.

International event

Galway itself was packed with ‘youngsters’ celebrating their exam results, we felt decidedly old as we walked amongst the half-naked schoolgirls as we tried to find somewhere to eat with Scottish friends. Talking of which, this event attracted people from Ireland, Ulster, Birmingham, Leeds, York, Cumbria, Scotland, Wales, The Netherlands… everywhere in fact. If you attend the WAW Series 3 in 2025 you’ll certainly leave having made new friends for sure.

Mamturk Mountains

The next day the early sunshine gave way to cloudy skies as we headed out to our end destination of Westport. This was to be the most ‘rural’ part of our trip and you know you’re in Ireland when the garage sells kerosene at the pump. We made a diversion to ride the Maumturk Mountains which sounded like we were in Asia and the rain had really come in but it didn’t take away from the stunning scenery.

Chris had already had his carb fall off on the way to our ferry in Holyhead but now his horn was sounding every time he turned his headset, total comedy moments ensued as he beeped his way through junctions and villages. The locals were so friendly and interested in what we were doing, it sometimes took us an hour just to leave a garage or car park. As soon as we had stopped chatting to one old boy (they were inevitably old men) another would wander up and ask about these ‘Vespas’. Parney’s scooter was still handling like an old hand cart and it wasn’t until he changed his oddly worn front tyre that the handling settled down to a manageable level.

We pulled into the pretty town of Westport and after checking into the B&B made our way to a nearby pub. Sitting outside and drinking Guinness, what else would happen to four handsome chaps like us but to be harassed by hen parties on the hunt for innocent victims. We beat a hasty retreat and continued the evening meeting other WAW riders in various eateries and pubs.

Get some air

The last full day lay ahead and this was the wildest of the Wild Atlantic Way. Rain was coming in on a strong wind as we headed out to Achill Island, the roads bumpy enough that I saw daylight between Diagonal Dave’s wheels and the tarmac. I myself was nearly launched to the moon a couple of times and I was amazed we didn’t have a shock absorber snap. It felt we were riding to the end of the world at times.

War stories

During the evenings we swopped tales with other riders and there were stories of broken hubs, roadside piston replacements and borrowing a farmer’s drill to make holes in a blocked exhaust. Oh, and one of the Dutch Lions SC got food poisoning but apart from that, I believe everyone made it to the final destination of Ballina.

A quieter night unsurprisingly followed as the riding had been hard, but so rewarding. A quick visit to Paddy Mac’s bar for one of the best pints of Guinness you’ll ever have and we headed to our beds.

Heading off

The ride back to Dublin was supposed to be the shortest day miles wise but we made the decision to go the back roads and were rewarded with some stunning tarmac. Diagonal Dave shot off to visit family and we were close to Dublin when my Lambretta cried out ‘enough’. She bogged down and refused to tick over at a garage. A closer inspection and the head gasket had gone. A thousand thoughts went through my mind, ‘damn’ and ‘blast’ just being a couple, followed quickly by ‘bugger’. But wait, what’s this? Chris produced a spare gasket like a rabbit out of a hat and Parney had a tube of gasket sealant, so we were soon on our way. I’ll never complain about Chris snoring again, well maybe.

World class route

A quiet night in Dublin (yes it can be done) and we caught the ferry home. Although not before Parney approached a couple of bikers also waiting for the ferry with the words ‘all right fellas?’… one was a woman!

After over 30 years travelling extensively throughout Europe on a Lambretta, I hold one solid conclusion of this route. It is, without any doubt one of the greatest routes in Europe any scooter owner can undertake, it is in fact world class. I found it hard to put the scenery, people and whole experience into words. So don’t listen to me, come on the next and final WAW event in 2025.

Words and photos: Nudger