Mayo

Mayo has a way of catching you off guard. I first drove out to Achill Island on a grey November afternoon, expecting little, and found myself standing at the edge of cliffs that felt like the end of the world. That rawness is what keeps pulling me back. It's a coastline that hasn't been softened by tourism or over-familiarity, and the light there can be extraordinary.

Downpatrick Head is as dramatic a sea stack as you'll find anywhere in Ireland, yet on most days you'll have it almost to yourself. Eagle Island, miles offshore with its battered lighthouse, is about as remote as it gets on the western seaboard. And Croagh Patrick, whether cloaked in cloud or catching the last copper light of evening over Clew Bay, never disappoints.

Kerry and Connemara get the attention, and rightly so. But Mayo is wilder, quieter, and far less photographed. That's a large part of why I love it!