Day 10: Letterkenny to Rathmullan (15.1 miles)

After yesterday's little issue with the calls of nature I was, unsurprisingly, a little reluctant to get going this morning. I was still not quite right so I decided to have breakfast and see if normality had returned before committing myself to country lanes and their inherent lack of plumbing. My husband made me a delicious full cooked breakfast which I ate and then waited to see how my body reacted. Well my tummy rumbled for a couple of hours. No discomfort - just the noise of a system that had been unexpectedly cleared out not long before. I was sure now that I was fine. Alright - not sure exactly - more, I thought that on balance, the likelihood was that I was OK.  OK was better than not. So I got myself ready and Tim dropped me back to the little lay-by he'd found me looking colourless and exhausted in yesterday.

I decided to wear my new hi-viz yellow cycling jacket. I wasn't sure how waterproof it was but it had a lot of good reviews online and it was definitely windproof. I brought the orange poncho too. My attempt at waterproofing it had been entirely unsuccessful but you can't deny that it's greatest asset is how very visible it makes me as I walk on the road. As I got out of the car there was a heavy shower so I put the poncho on as well and walked off up the road I'd just been driven down.  Tim was going off to do a bit of shopping and exploring in Letterkenny. I asked him to find me on my route on his way home just to make sure I was still OK.

Having driven the route that the Wild Atlantic Way followed the day before, I decided that the road was simply too dangerous to walk. In situations such as this I've decided if there's a safer route available I will always take it. So I took a slightly longer route to Ramelton around back roads with very few cars driving on them. This proved to be a very good decision. Not only was I safer, the road itself was extremely pretty and had views that could not have been seen from the official route. It was about a seven mile walk into Ramelton. I knew by about a mile and half into the walk that my digestive distress had left me. I was definitely fine. By the time Tim caught up with me I was in my stride and happily waved him off.

The weather was sunny one moment, dark and brooding and given to showers the next. I did manage to ditch the orange tent for quite a while but as I came closer to Ramelton the sky darkened and the rain fell again. The wind always gets 'up' when the dark clouds come in as though they have their own entourage to allow them to pass through quickly leaving rainbows in their wake.

By the time I got to the town I was looking forward to a little rest before ploughing onward. I called into the first pub I came to called the Lennon Lodge. I planned to take my ease have a quick coke and use the facilities before cracking on. I do wonder what kind of an impression I make when I appear in situations where, perhaps, I'm not expected. For instance I was wearing a wide brimmed hat and an orange poncho as I walked into the pub. Imagine Clint Eastwood pushing those swing doors and entering the saloon in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, in a poncho and a stetson, then replace that image with me in a my get up. I think that I heard that familiar tune and there's every chance that a tumble weed blew past. Every head turned toward the door. The room fell silent. I walked across it to find a table, Every eye followed me. I took off my hat and my poncho to reveal a day-glo yellow jacket beneath... that's when the laughter started. The only thing weirder than a drenched woman in a bright orange poncho is the revelation that she's wearing hi-viz layers. I unburdened myself of my small backpack, walked up to the bar and ordered a coke. As I waited for my drink a man sitting at the bar started to chat to me. He was missing several key front teeth but still he smiled at me and he said many words - none of which where indistinguishable from "Hur Hur Hur Hur Hur." I smiled back and said "hello," which only seemed to encourage him to say more sounds and then finish with a wide gummy smile and a wink. I have no idea what he might have said -  I like to think it was gentle words of encouragement - but honestly he could have asked me my thoughts on the Middle East or the Water Charges. Either way with my lame smile and nod, I took my drink and retreated to my table, feeling as though I'd missed a trick. I'll never know. When I finished my drink I paid a visit to the facilities before leaving. I met the man again as we passed in the corridor. More gentle murmurs, another toothless grin and wink to which I gave a sheepish smile, a brief nod and said, "bye now." I can't help but feel that this interaction would have been improved dramatically by the presence of a translator.

Ramelton is a very pleasant town with a wide, fast-flowing river coursing through  it. I took a few pictures and felt a bit sad when I had to leave. It was already half past three and I had another eight miles to go.

The road to Rathmullan was, in contrast to the one I'd just traveled, narrow and busy with fast-moving traffic. There was very little room on the verge for me to be able to step off should the cars coming toward me not seem inclined to slow down. I felt anxious and extremely unsafe. not far into the route I came across this sign.

This sign is what my Mam and Dad used to call a 'wibbly-wobbly road' sign. In the UK the sign for an upcoming series of dangerous bends is a triangle with what looks like a backwards capital N. In Ireland we  have the 'wibbly-wobbly road' sign. (I should say that that's just what my parents called it, It's not what Irish people in general,call it!) As a child I loved seeing these signs. They looked slightly comical and wibbly-wobbly roads are much more fun to drive on.  Not so if you're walking on them though because with every bend you become invisible to oncoming traffic. Add to that the fact that these bends tended to have no grass verge, only thick hedgerows, you can begin to imagine how hairy this road had suddenly become. The sign said they'd continue for 1km. I soldiered on half remembering that the road ahead would eventually open out to run parallel to the lake and there would be more room to manoeuvre. Unfortunately my memory from the previous day played tricks on me. After about a mile of treacherous bends I came upon another 'wibbly-wobbly road' sign, this time telling me that they would stretch on for 4km. My progress was extremely slow as I had to stop and step off the road, often into prickly hedges or onto a narrow strip of soft spongy grass that gave way to deep ditches. It was perilous, precarious and painfully slow. By the time the road curved around to run alongside the Lough I was starting to flag. My back started to ache at the ten-mile marker and my feet began to feel as though I'd been slapping them for four and a half hours. My body had had enough but there were still four + miles left to go. I had hoped to walk about three miles past Rathmullan before being picked up but by this time I knew that I'd call Tim to collect me as soon as I was through the town.

Then the sky turned black, all the mountains disappeared behind a thick grey blanket and it started to pour down sheets of cold rain laced with hailstones. Luckily the wind was blowing from behind me and slightly to the right so that I was shielded completely from the vicious onslaught. Strangely it was incredibly beautiful to watch the way the weather rolled in and out and left the Lough looking as though it had turned a milky shade of jade green.

Before I reached Rathmullan another hailstorm blew in. By the time I reached the edge of the town, I could barely lift my feet. They'd had it. I trudged through the town out the other side. As soon as I found a safe place for Tim to pull in, I sent out my 'come and get me' text and waited for my carriage to arrive.

The drive back to Portsalon took me through tomorrow's route which is over the edge of a wee mountain with the sea falling hundreds of feet below in some places. I would characterise the series of bends as more corkscrew than wibbly-wobbly. It's going to be tricky.

Total mileage: 135.2 miles.