The Enchantment of Traveling to Ireland During the Off-Season

A gray-white pony stands nearly camouflaged beneath the bare branches in a frost-kissed field. As we drive by, we catch a glimpse of its head, glowing in the soft morning light. When we stop and step out of the car, the pony approaches the fence with sure-footedness on the icy ground, allowing us to admire its large, gentle face.

The Connemara Pony, Ireland’s indigenous breed, is resilient and well-suited to the rugged bogs and rocky coastlines where it once tilled the land or hauled carts filled with seaweed and turf. Spotting one is a highlight on my bucket list for an off-season trip to Connemara in County Galway, where the frost-covered fields create a truly magical setting for this first encounter.

I’m spending a few days discovering the area, having traveled from my home in Dublin with a friend. He dreams of seeing donkeys and otters; I’m eager to find ponies and explore mountain trails. However, with a storm on the horizon, we’ve also packed books and games. Like many coastal regions popular with tourists, Connemara bustles during the peak months of July and August when families flock to their holiday homes. Yet, there’s a unique charm to the off-season—before the summer crowds arrive in June or after they’ve departed in September—when a soft, ethereal light bathes the dunes and bogs. While not all attractions, restaurants, or accommodations are available during this time (particularly from November to March), booking a stay in the open spots is easier and more affordable, the scenic locations remain tranquil, the roads are less traveled, and life moves at a slower pace.

Coastal bays and serene bogs create an ideal home base.

We embark on our journey around Galway Bay, where the setting sun casts a golden hue over the village harbors, gradually revealing the flat, boggy terrain of Connemara. This stark, often treeless coastline, marked by dry stone walls, expansive beaches, and rocky inlets, has long been a source of inspiration for artists and artisans. At Ceardlann An Spidéal (Spiddal Craft Village), we admire exquisite kiln-fused glass, stoneware pottery, woolen goods, and a variety of items featuring Irish language expressions, from coasters to posters.

Spotting a row of clocks displaying: Tá sé in am tae — which translates to “It’s time for tea” in Irish — we don’t need a second invitation. This is a Gaeltacht region, where road signs are in Irish. At Caifé Teac na Cúirte (Courthouse Café), we overhear native speakers chatting while I muster up my rusty Irish to order tea and toasted sandwiches.

Our home for the next five days is the charming fishing village of Roundstone. From here, it’s a 45-minute drive to Connemara National Park in Letterfrack, where we plan to hike Diamond Hill, a nearly two-hour trek to a 1,450-foot summit offering stunning views of the bays, boglands, and jagged peaks. While the park welcomes up to 3,000 visitors a day during peak season, that number dwindles to between 100 and 300 in the off-season.

We also explore the shores of Gorteen Bay (known as Port na Feadóige, meaning “bank of the plover”) and Dog’s Bay, located just two miles from the village. Over millions of years, the sea has deposited the remnants of single-celled sea creatures, foraminifera, into the channel between a small island and the land, creating two horseshoe-shaped beaches connected by a tombolo.

A vibrant yellow and red lifeguard hut signifies the beach’s summer popularity, attracting families who come to swim and picnic. In the off-season, this vast space is all yours. We take a closer look at the sand—it’s composed of tiny bits of worn-down seashells—and admire the rich seaweeds that have washed ashore with the tide, only to be swept back out again with the next.

Next, we drop by Roundstone Music and Crafts, the studio and shop of master bodhrán-maker Malachy Kearns, who crafts the traditional Irish drum from goatskin, adding his intricate designs. It’s a quiet day, giving him time for tea and conversation, and he shares that he stops by a local beach nearly every day on his way to work.

Let’s get creative

Many attractions, including the visitor center at Connemara National Park, used to shut down during the off-season months, but since around 2019, they have remained open year-round, providing locals with more than just seasonal work.

With this philosophy, Within the Village, a collection of five luxury boutique townhouses housed in restored buildings in Roundstone, has stayed open throughout the year since its launch last September. Its mission is to positively impact the local community environmentally, socially, and economically—by promoting local businesses and sponsoring community events like the annual Tour de Bog cycling race. The accommodations feature products sourced from local suppliers, including toiletries and bedding. 'We highlight small and medium-sized enterprises in the area, from bed linens to tweed. Instead of selling these items ourselves, we direct visitors to the suppliers’ websites, helping them support local industries and sustain businesses in the region,' explains co-owner Maria Murphy. They advocate for slow tourism and provide maps showcasing local attractions and activities. Guests can choose from one-bedroom, two-bedroom, or three-bedroom houses available for three, four, or seven-night stays, with low season rates ranging from $370 to $960 per night until the end of May and from late September onward.

Another sustainability effort involves partnering with local artisans and craftspeople to furnish the houses, showcasing their creations. One of the most captivating pieces in each unit is a replica of a small bird’s nest, elegantly displayed under a glass dome on a side table, crafted by basket maker Joe Hogan. Hogan produces items to order, and his work is available at Joyce’s Craft Shop in the nearby village of Recess. To discover more about his craft, we drive to his studio in Loch Na Fooey, navigating the winding roads as sheets of rain sweep across the valley.

Hogan’s workshop boasts a view of the lake, and even amidst the rain, the orange tones of the bog infuse the landscape with warmth. Here, Hogan cultivates willow for basket-making and gathers heather for his nests. The nearest major road is five miles away, and the closest shop is eight miles distant. Hogan mentions that the ability to grow his materials and sustain a livelihood in such a remote area was what initially attracted him when he moved from County Cork 45 years ago.

He began by crafting cribs for infants before transitioning to traditional Irish baskets, a craft that was fading away. A large basket can take him up to 70 hours to complete over the span of six days. He emphasizes that achieving the right texture in the willow is essential for shaping it—a task that becomes more challenging in cooler weather. 'You’re not imposing your will on it,' he explains. 'You’re learning how to collaborate with it. If you pull too hard, it will snap.' His son Ciaran offers basket-making courses, which have garnered considerable interest, especially from visitors from other parts of Ireland.

A captivating game, a scenic detour

Back in Roundstone, we learn that there’s a game of “Twenty-five” happening at King’s Bar. This card game is favored in rural communities, but as a city dweller from Dublin, I’ve never encountered it, making the experience feel thrilling. We settle on some bar stools to quietly observe. A group of nine men is engrossed in play. The intensity is so palpable that the bartender can’t serve us until they take a break. It feels like a unique off-season moment—during summer, this place is typically so crowded that patrons spill out onto the street.

As with any journey in Ireland, we enjoy our fair share of luck—but not without some hiccups. We spot countless donkeys, and James loses track once the count hits double digits, while otters remain elusive. We are blessed with serene days featuring clear blue skies, where the entire village reflects beautifully on the water, and the early morning sun brightens the upturned currachs (small wooden boats) resting on the pier.

However, as the week progresses, Storm Elin approaches, and rain begins to hammer against the windows. The accommodation manager, Andy, brings us fresh, fluffy scones from J Woods grocery store just across the street. I later pop in for some supplies and am delighted to discover the tiny shop has a full butcher's counter. I grab thick slices of bacon to prepare “BT” sandwiches—modified BLTs, as there’s no lettuce available in the village until the next delivery arrives tomorrow.

On one excursion toward Letterfrack, we opt for the renowned scenic lakeside route that winds past Lough Inagh. Setting off, we relish an incredible drive flanked by bogs, shimmering ponds, and the distant Twelve Bens Mountains. Strangely, we encounter neither another person nor a lake along the way.

After approximately 45 minutes, we spot a sign for Roundstone. We realize we’ve come full circle, returning to where we began. It seems we’ve unwittingly taken a road dubbed the “bog road,” rumored to be haunted. This was a route I had hoped to traverse, and it appears it wanted to be traveled as well. Unfortunately, we never discover the road leading to the lake.

Fortunately, we’re not in a rush and simply go with the flow on days when our navigation system alters our path. Traveling off-season in Ireland can be quite relaxing—there are no queues, no reservations, and no throngs of people. At times, you can plan your route or prepare for the weather; other times, it chooses for you. It’s akin to working with willow for basket-making—you must adapt to it rather than force your will upon it.