It may be the ultimate get-away-from-it-all destination, but it doesn't come cheap. FIONA GARTLANDlands in the lap of luxury on Inishturkbeg in Clew Bay, off Co Mayo
THE TRAIN FROM Dublin Heuston to Westport takes three hours and 40 minutes on a good day, long enough to fly to Madeira or Sicily. But I was en route to a different island, one where the weather is not quite so predictable and where the views are impossible to match.
The only island I’d heard much about previously in Clew Bay, off the coast of Mayo, was Clare Island, home of pirate queen Grace O’Malley. Google Earth’s version of Clew Bay shows myriad drumlins breaking the surface of the Atlantic, weather-beaten and mostly uninhabited.
My destination is Inishturkbeg, the “small island of the wild boar”, which has been developed into an unusual resort for those who prize seclusion.
The owners, market research guru Nadim Sadek and his wife Sandra O'Malley, live in London most of the time, but spend holidays on the island with their children. Nadim is half- Egyptian, half-Irish and Sandra's father is from Co Mayo. On the strength of her roots, they have adopted the motto of the O'Malley clan, Terra Marique Potens, "strong by land and sea", for the resort.
From the station in Westport it is a 10-minute drive to the pier on a narrow road stitched along the edge of Clew Bay. Johnny Dalgety is waiting there with his boat. He is a permanent resident, since he moved to the island with his wife Mandy and two children in 2004. The family keep the island running smoothly while the owners are away.
The small boat weaves its way on a 10-minute journey to Inishturkbeg, not the largest but the tallest of the islands.
We are accompanied by a box of shifting seaweed, which occasionally reveals the waving blue claw of a lobster, one of half a dozen plucked that morning from pots set by local fishermen in the bay.
At the jetty I am taken to the Pavilion, a three-bedroom, single-storey house nearby. The award-winning building sits into a gentle slope, its green wood blending with the landscape. It is the first of six houses on the island, and is to be my home for the two-night visit.
Inside there is a single, long room with bedrooms, two bathrooms and a utility area tucked to one side behind sliding doors. The main room has a kitchen at one end and a large glass dining table over which an elongated pyramid of crystal is lit from above with spot bulbs.
Two leather armchairs are focused on a fireplace, and at the top end of the room three leather couches are arranged around a coffee table. In the corner, there is a plasma screen and music system, which also has outdoor speakers, so that guests can enjoy their choice of music while soaking in the hot tub set into the decked area. There are French doors all along one side of the pavilion, each offering a different view of the bay and the jetty, where some of the island’s toys await guests.
There is a variety of watercraft, including a powerful catamaran, Ocean Potion, designed for the island and built on the Isle of Wight. There are kayaks and donuts for hitching onto the backs of motorboats. And off the end of the jetty there is a water trampoline, on which children of all ages (though not this one) can bounce.
The view from another window is of a lone heron at the water’s edge, erect, watchful and patient, while the tide beyond it seems to rush in two directions at once. I could happily pass an hour observing the patient fisherman.
My fellow travellers are housed in other dwellings, including Reek Cottage, set between an all-weather sports pitch and the football field cum helipad, and Craft Cottage, where indoor artistic pursuits are offered on wet days.
The main building is the eight-bedroom Island House. It is billed as the family home, but with a swimming pool, gym and games or conference room attached, it’s not like any family home I know.
It also boasts stunning views of the bay and of Croagh Patrick, though there is something disconcerting about enjoying a luxurious dip while being able to see the shingly path on which pilgrims struggle up the Reek.
Meals are served to guests in the main house, cooked by one of three chefs boated onto the island as required.
We feast on the lobster, now crayon red and buttery, that had waved earlier from its seaweed bed. And the vegetables we eat have been grown on the island.
There is also plenty of animal life on Inishturkbeg. Resident horses are available for riding, the hens give eggs, there are black-faced lambs and Kerry cows on the hillside and a variety of dogs for petting. For those feeling energetic there are lots of activities, including water sports, tennis, archery and shooting. And there are lovely walks.
Next day after breakfast, we circumnavigate the 63 acres along the rocky shoreline. The walk takes less than an hour in wellies supplied from a shed at the Pavilion, which also holds wetsuits and raingear.
The footwear of choice on the island is the welly, left at the door of the main house where we go to dine and where, it appears, shoes of any sort are banned.
In the evening, we bounce around the playground bay in Ocean Potion,the sea spray drenching us as we view the lighthouse on Inishgort, the ruins of Grace O'Malley's castle on Clare Island, and Dorinish, once owned by John Lennon.
Later, due to heavy showers, I opt to drive to the main house for a dinner of island lamb, in one of the island's vehicles available to guests, an old Beetle called Inishturkbug. Its engine sounds like a lawnmower as it struggles up the slope.
On the last morning, after a brunch that includes sausages and pudding made with seaweed, I take a walk to the highest point on the island. The sun has come out, there is a fresh breeze and the air is clear. Before me are the islands of Clew Bay, a multitude of green-backed turtles warming themselves in the autumn sun. The mountains of Nephin Beg are to my right, with the shadows of clouds racing across them.
The church at the top of Croagh Patrick is visible on the left, invisible and visible again, and behind me the mainland is flecked with light. I wish I had eyes in the back of my head so that I could see this view all at once, but perhaps that would be too much. Part of me thinks such a view should not be exclusively for eyes that can afford it.
Inishturkbeg is nothing if not exclusive. The island costs €9,000 per night to rent for up to 17 people, with an additional charge of €100 for every extra person. It can sleep 36. Some activities are charged, such as €10 per hour to help feed the chickens, while others, such as use of the tennis courts, come as part of the package.
The island’s promoters say it would be suitable for someone who wants a very private wedding, or as a venue for a business think-in. It is also easy to imagine it as a holiday location for a celebrity who doesn’t mind a bit of rain and is hungry for privacy. And the combination of toys, farm animals and freedom would make it ideal for lucky children. For the promoters, it’s an attractive but challenging proposition in the current climate.
Lowdown on the high life
Charges at Inishturkbeg depend on the number of guests and whether the entire island is rented.
The island costs €9,000 per night to rent exclusively for up to 17 people, with an additional charge of €100 for every extra person. The Pavilion costs €2,000 per night to rent for up to three, with a charge of €150 for each additional person.
Breakfast, lunch and dinner costs €160 per person. Some activities cost extra; others are part of the package.
Contact Sara Johnson, 00-44-7747-761649, sara@inishturkbeg.com.
Fiona Gartland was a guest of Inishturkbeg