Ireland is known for its craic agus ceol, as well as the warmth of its hospitality. One of the things I treasure most about being in Ireland is, perhaps, also the opposite of all that–the stillness and the quiet, the ability to be on your own in the midst of a seemingly vast, stunning landscape. I’m thinking of places like the cliffs on the Antrim coast, Lough Inagh and the Connemara mountains, and the craggy limestone pavement of the Burren. Places where sometimes you can wonder, even as a tourist, and find yourself completely alone.
Imagine finding yourself tucked into a tiny cave on the side of a small mountain where a 7th century saint is said to have lived for three months. There’s no graffiti inside, no burnt candle stubs or remnants of past visitors. Just clean stone walls. A few feet away in the forest lie the remnants of a church built in his honor; adjacent to which a spring bursts forth from the ground, its cool, clear water disappearing into the earth a few short feet away. Max and I were alone here, with our guide, just last week, and it felt like a gift to be the only people there at that time–especially on a gorgeous autumn day.
On our recent journey west, Max and I had the pleasure of being the first guests to stay in Aoibheann MacNamara’s new “slow living retreat” in the Burren. By slow living, Aoibheann means a place that allows people to retreat into themselves, to enjoy the stillness, and release themselves from the desire to fill up every free moment with something to do. And yes, this includes not having wifi! It’s a perfect spot for an artist retreat, or to spend quality time with family.
As travel professionals, it is our job to create itineraries that, if not packed with activities and experiences (no one goes on vacation to come home exhausted), are at least focused on added value. We often think in terms of what we can add in rather than what we can strip away, even while we try to avoid the sort of well-worn bucket list itineraries we know others provide. And yet, there is something so special about taking a trip whose sole purpose is to unplug, to not do all of the things, to not visit all of the places.
MacNamara is the owner of the much-loved Galway restaurant Ard Bia as well as a co-founder of The Tweed Project, a sustainable fashion label that uses only locally sourced materials like linen and wool in their luxurious creations. It was in Aoibheann’s Galway studio last May that I learned of the Summerage property. I was there for a fitting (okay this makes me sound a bit more glamorous than I am, but a girl can dream) for a vest I tried on in a local shop which was too small. A mutual friend had introduced us, and I stopped by to see if she might be able to make me one my size. Turns out the vest I had tried on was meant for a child! Our autumn trip came up in conversation then, and Aoibheann suggested we stay there, as our dates coincided with the debut of Ard Bia Summerage.
Summerage, the name of Aoibheann’s retreat is a nod to the Burren’s annual transhumance tradition, a practice of moving cattle to their winter pastures on the limestone uplands which has been taking place for thousands of years. “Winterage” in the Burren is notable compared to other parts of the world that practice transhumance, as there they move cattle from the lowlands into the limestone hills, which hold heat in the wintertime and allow for grazing which also preserves the biodiversity of the plants that grow in the region.
The house is just visible from the road, off in the distance, and appeared to be the only structure for miles around. We were delighted to be greeted by a herd of curious cows upon arrival (luckily for me, the Burren Winterage festival was taking place the following weekend). Beyond these new friends–and a couple of miniature ponies who live in the yard–it was just us. The lack of human neighbors meant that we could go to the bathroom and shower with abandon in full view of mother nature, as there were no window coverings apart from the bedroom. I felt a bit of freedom in this, though Max wasn’t quite convinced.
If you’re already familiar with Ard Bia or The Tweed Project, then Summerage is designed as you would expect; Aoibheann has an impeccable eye for design. The interior is quite charming, minimal yet cozy, and made me feel like, by staying there, I was living a bit of the glamorous life I referred to earlier.
As if that isn’t reason enough to book a week here, Aoibheann also shares our commitment to sustainability, which is demonstrated throughout the home and the 32 acre property. “It is important to do things correctly, the way it was done in the past, the way it worked best,” she told Cliodhna Prendergast in The Financial Times. As Aoibheann explains in the article, the property has an apiary, a vegetable garden (from which guests are welcome to eat), and an oak grove growing on the site. She’s also invited a local farmer to use her land for pasturage (enter the friendly cows).
Our visit to the Summerage coincided with Storm Ashley’s visit to Ireland, although she made landfall after we checked out on Sunday. We took the opportunity to explore the grounds on Saturday evening before dinnertime, climbing carefully around the electric fence to wander down the valley to the oak grove. En route to the orchard, we stumbled upon a hazel copse hidden in a nook, complete with a fairy fort and the ruins of a famine cottage. Yet another time on this trip where the quiet was anything but unsettling; it wrapped around us and we were connected to the place. It felt holy here too.