The Great Sheep Standoff

Sheep in Road, Ireland

It was supposed to be a peaceful weekend escape along the Wild Atlantic Way—me, my trusty campervan, a map I’d never open, and enough snacks to survive a mild apocalypse.

Day one went off without a hitch: Cliffs, coffee, and a campfire-lit dinner that tasted almost like the picture on the packaging. But day two... day two was when it all went sideways.

Somewhere in Connemara, I decided to take the “scenic route.” You know, the kind of road where you pray no one comes the other way because the hedges are close enough to scratch your teeth.

Then it happened.

A sheep. One sheep. Right in the middle of the road. Staring me down like I owed it money.

I beeped the horn. It blinked.

I revved the engine. It blinked slower.

Eventually, I got out. “Come on, mate,” I said gently, like a wool-whisperer. The sheep took a step forward.

Victory! …Until 14 more sheep casually trotted out from behind a bush, joined their mate, and laid down. Laid. Down.

I spent 45 minutes trapped in an unspoken turf war with the Connemara Wool Gang, who apparently run this stretch of Ireland like it's their own private toll road.

Eventually, an old man in a Hilux appeared, waved a stick, and the sheep moved like they'd just remembered an appointment. “They like the road,” he said with a shrug. I nodded, as if that explained anything.

Moral of the story? In Ireland, the sheep don’t care about your itinerary—and they definitely don’t fear your campervan. Drive slow, take it all in, and enjoy every sheepy experience along the way.