I've been aware for about a week that the weather for today would be a bit pants. The forecast started with scattered showers, then a couple of days later it became heavy showers and a couple of days ago it upgraded to heavy rain all day. Last night as I was getting ready for bed the forecast for Killybegs was for the rain to start around ten which would become heavy rain by eleven. A quick review of Donegal's forecast was the same but with an hour's delay. Faced with the conditions becoming impossible while I was mid-walk I began to wonder if I shouldn't put off doing this particular walk to when I return in May. But as I got ready for bed I thought No. I'll get started at 8am, walk as far as I can before the weather front catches up then I'll stop, call a taxi, get them to swing by my hotel and pick up my backpack, then come and pick me up. I thought I might get 8 miles done before I had to abandon ship. And so I went to sleep.
I woke at about 6.30am and a quick look outside revealed that it was still dry. So far so good. I checked the weather forecast again and that had changed. The weather front was now due to hit at nine. Even if I left at eight the worst of the weather would be upon me within a few miles. I trawled through several different weather sites. Met Eireann said it would be a few heavy showers and probably some hail but that it wouldn't be six hours of unrelenting heavy rain. But that's exactly what The Met Office said - and also that by 2 or 3 pm the wind would be gusting up to 50 km/h. Well now I didn't really know what to do.
Now I don't mind a bit of rain. I'm Irish. We're pretty waterproof. What I had to take into consideration here was a combination of factors. The first was the road I'd be walking on - the dreaded N56 - the whole way to from Killybegs to Donegal. Some of it has a decent hard shoulder for me to walk on but many other sections have no space for me to walk other than the actual road itself. So essentially I have to vie for space with trucks and lorries which are coming at me at 100km/h. Throw in blind corners and I think you begin to see how the weather conditions need to be fairly optimal if I'm going to walk on such a route for six and a half hours. The second consideration has to be visibility. A bit of mist or light rain makes very little difference in terms of visibility, I have my hi-viz jacket or poncho - both of which really do a great job of making me visible to the oncoming drivers. However as soon as the rain starts to fall in any serious quantity you end up with a lot of spray on the road as well as reduced visibility through your windscreen and over-worked wipers. Suddenly I don't stand out so much. Also I wear glasses so my own ability to see is impaired. The third environmental change is that everything gets louder and it gets more difficult to work out the direction of sound because I've got a hood (sometimes two) up. The whole situation starts to feel a lot less in my control and I feel extremely vulnerable. Throw in a bit of high wind and it really becomes a bit of a daymare. And of course my presence on such a road, in such terrible conditions also presents a hazard for the other road users as well.
This is what I had to weigh up as I sat in my hotel room with no rain falling outside. With the rain due to start by nine I thought that there was no point in starting out at 8 - I'd barely have gone a couple of miles before it started. So I decided I'd have breakfast and see what the clouds would bring.
I wasn't very hungry and it was a bit of an effort to eat. As I walked back up to my room the rain had already started to fall. It was proper rain - not drizzle - but I wouldn't call it heavy. Looking westward was pointless - the county had disappeared behind a veil of dark grey. It might not be heavy but it was definitely on its way. A big part of me still wanted to just go and see how far I could get but by now my experience of the Donegal weather had shown me how quickly it can change and how difficult the conditions can get in the space of a few minutes. So my sensible side over-ruled my adventurous side and I decided to get a cab to Donegal. I would have to come back to walk it another day.
I packed, called a taxi and went down to reception and waited. Before long I was on the road to Donegal - but I was in a car, not walking. The rain was falling at a steady pace. There wasn't much traffic on the road and my inner conflict still raged on. However the car-ride did prove to me that I'd over-estimated how much hard shoulder there actually was. It confirmed that on this road, in these conditions, walking was foolhardy.
I got out at The Abbey Hotel in Donegal where I would later catch my bus to Derry. I had a couple of hours to waste so I went into a little coffee place attached to the hotel and sat and had a cappuccino. Then donning both backpacks (the little one at the front, the big one on my back) I went for a wander around town.
That took five minutes.
I returned to the bus stop and waited in the rain, which was still coming down steadily, but not heavily. The bus came. I got on it. It was a particularly unpleasant journey. (It would be unkind to go in to the reasons why, so I won't). We arrived in Derry and as I organised myself (got sterling, found something to eat and got a cab), the rain, at last started to fall heavily. I'd managed to stay ahead of the worst of the weather front the whole way but it had finally caught me.
I was sitting in the conservatory of my B&B when it really started to come down. The rain and hail battered the glass roof and the wind howled around it. Lough Foyle and the hills of Inishowen disappeared. I could barely see beyond the garden hedge. I would have been hit full force with that weather front had I walked today.
I made the right call.
I will walk from Killybegs to Donegal in May. I've got time.
Total mileage so far: Still 279.8 miles
Saturday 9 April 2016
Thursday 7 April 2016
Day 21: Kilcar to Killybegs via Muckros Head (11.3 miles)
I slept very well last night. I stayed at a lovely B&B (The Kilcar Lodge) in Kilcar owned and run by Teresa and John. Having arrived in Kilcar I really didn't fancy going out again looking for food. I wasn't overly hungry anyway. When I was unpacking I found my emergency Pot Noodle. There was a kettle in my room so Pot Noodle it was! I was snug as a bug!
The problem with not leaving your room is that you don't get to meet anyone. I looked at the walk for today. It was a short one at 8.5 miles. I figured if I was going to carry the backpack at all this trip, today would be the best day to do it. I went down to breakfast at 08:30. I was the first up. By all the tables that had been set up I could see that there had been a full house last night, yet I hadn't heard a thing after they'd arrived. I ate a delicious and filling breakfast and while I was finishing my tea, John, my host came in to have a talk with me. An avid runner, he wanted to make sure that I knew about the coast road out of Kilcar. I had already decided to go that way so that I could avoid the N56 as much as possible. He told me that there was a lovely little road off of the coast road out onto Muckross Head. You could walk all the way onto the tip of the headland or there was a little beach on the far side of it that I could visit. I was thinking to myself that if I was carrying my pack I couldn't really add any extra miles onto my day. As the conversation continued we started talking about my walk and the experiences I've had and I was telling him about how great people were helping me out and how the backpack seemed to be going on its very own journey, without me. He offered straight away to take it to Killybegs for me. "Sure it's only down the road," he said. I love that phrase and the way it trips off the tongues of the people I've met. It's no trouble, it's only down the road!
I was delighted as I set off down the coast road out of Kilcar. John and Teresa were so lovely and it really gives you the warm fuzzies to meet such genuinely good and kind people. It was a grey morning with a fine mist of rain falling. I knew that the forecast was for it to get clearer as the morning wore on.
I could have sat there for hours looking at it all. I think that John was my special Atlantic spirit guide today. Without him I would not have known to come down this narrow little boreen and I would have missed the best part of the day.
But I have to admit to being really pleased to arrive in Killybegs and its busy streets and shops.
What a fantastic way to end a magical day.
Total mileage: 279.8 miles
The problem with not leaving your room is that you don't get to meet anyone. I looked at the walk for today. It was a short one at 8.5 miles. I figured if I was going to carry the backpack at all this trip, today would be the best day to do it. I went down to breakfast at 08:30. I was the first up. By all the tables that had been set up I could see that there had been a full house last night, yet I hadn't heard a thing after they'd arrived. I ate a delicious and filling breakfast and while I was finishing my tea, John, my host came in to have a talk with me. An avid runner, he wanted to make sure that I knew about the coast road out of Kilcar. I had already decided to go that way so that I could avoid the N56 as much as possible. He told me that there was a lovely little road off of the coast road out onto Muckross Head. You could walk all the way onto the tip of the headland or there was a little beach on the far side of it that I could visit. I was thinking to myself that if I was carrying my pack I couldn't really add any extra miles onto my day. As the conversation continued we started talking about my walk and the experiences I've had and I was telling him about how great people were helping me out and how the backpack seemed to be going on its very own journey, without me. He offered straight away to take it to Killybegs for me. "Sure it's only down the road," he said. I love that phrase and the way it trips off the tongues of the people I've met. It's no trouble, it's only down the road!
I was delighted as I set off down the coast road out of Kilcar. John and Teresa were so lovely and it really gives you the warm fuzzies to meet such genuinely good and kind people. It was a grey morning with a fine mist of rain falling. I knew that the forecast was for it to get clearer as the morning wore on.
It was my favourite kind of road - quiet and winding and practically free of traffic. Before long I saw the Wild Atlantic Way sign for the viewpoint to the headland. It had started to get a bit windy as the road had begun to climb upwards. There was a stone wall between me and the long way down so I was OK.
After the viewpoint the road descended sharply and the stone wall fell into disrepair. I started to walk in the middle of the road as my edge-wobbles went into overdrive! By now the sky was very dark and the wind was gusting very strongly. When I arrived at the turn off and looked out to the headland I saw a narrow road rise again onto the completely exposed and shelterless outcrop. I did not want to abandon going out there as John had told me it was a 'must-see' especially as his kind offer to take my bag freed me up to go there, but the weather had once again turned deeply unpleasant and I wasn't sure it would be safe right out at the point. I decided that I would instead visit the beach on the other more sheltered side of the headland. The walk down there was lonely and cold but at the end of the road was a tranquil, silvery haven for me, and me alone to just sit and 'be.'
I had a real moment of peace sitting there looking out on all this steel grey calm. After a while I stood up and turned around to go back up the road and rejoin my route. Imagine my surprise when I turned around and saw a bright blue sky and sunshine! The wind had dropped as well so instead of rejoining my route I went left and headed off down the headland.
The views of Sliabh Liag were spectacular and the rough sea bounced off all the rocks in a crescendo of spray!
I was so sad to have to get up and walk on but the hills were beckoning me on so reluctantly I had to carry on walking.
As I strolled upwards and disappeared over the hill the next amazing view appeared. Across the bay the Sligo mountains, still a bit shy and hiding in mist began to materialise. It was still very cloudy in that direction but all across the bay there were little slits of sunlight breaking through to add a little magic to all that I could see.
The view changed constantly as the light found new ways to penetrate the cloud. Before long, however, my little stint on the coast road was over and I had to rejoin the N56 again with its noise and traffic and blind bends in the road.
There were a few moments of respite along the way.
Remembering that it was Thursday and the paper that interviewed me was out today, I went into the first supermarket I could find and bought a copy. I was so surprised and delighted to find a half page article on page 11 entitled "Wild Atlantic Way blogger is loving Donegal" by Sue Doherty. I took a picture of it and you can find it on the Facebook page if you fancy having a look. What I was most especially pleased with was that she gave Cliff and Ionad Siul a good mention and put in the fundraising info for the RNLI. Thank you Sue.
What a fantastic way to end a magical day.
Total mileage: 279.8 miles
Wednesday 6 April 2016
Day 20: Carrick to Kilcar via Sliabh Liag and the coast road (11.5 miles)
I woke early this morning to that dreaded sound of wind and rain. I did know it was coming - that wasn't a surprise - but it did seem a little wild out there. The wind was due to drop about midday so I had a late breakfast (for me) at 09:30 and really took my time leaving. Knowing that I didn't have to carry the big backpack was brilliant. I left it in the bar of my lodgings as Cliff had asked (thanks again Cliff!) and I walked out into the street. I'm not sure if it was a sign of things to come or of how tired I was but I walked off in the wrong direction. I did realise my mistake quickly enough and I turned right around and back past my digs ... which was also wrong. I needed to go up the road to the side of my B&B. The two German cyclists who also stayed there last night seemed to be heading the same way.
The road out of Carrick towards Sliabh Liag (Slieve League in English) was very pretty. The River Glen raced alongside me as it widened out and made a dash for the sea.
There were rapids...
And muddy deposits ...
As well as boats that had seen better days.
I was on my way to the edge of a mountain (sliabh is the Irish word for mountain) so the road was, of course, uphill, albeit gently at first.
Eventually the climb got steeper, the closer I came to the car park just before the climb up to the cliffs themselves. The wind was blowing hard as I made my way there but I still had the shelter of the mountain in front of me. I wondered what it would be like when that shelter disappeared. It didn't seem to me that the wind was dropping at all. Could the forecast have been mistaken? Perish the thought!!
Turning into the car park was my first real introduction to the ferocity of the oncoming wind. It had stopped me in my tracks several times on the way up but this was a new dimension. All of a sudden I wasn't sure whether this was a good idea. I looked upwards and there seemed to be people on the road that led up to the cliffs themselves. "If there are people walking there, it must be OK," I told myself. I really didn't want to have come this far and not even try. So I went through the gates and headed upwards. I shot the first of three videos on the first hill up which was still relatively sheltered.
The second one I shot after I turned out on to the road that ran parallel with the sea itself. You can see that the wind is getting visibly stronger here. And the third video - called The End - I shot whilst cowering behind a rock face. You can have a look at them HERE. Do try and view them in order - they are numbered. Just before I shot that third video I was trying to take a few pictures of the sea.
I didn't really notice the dark grey cloud that was barreling its way toward land. Suddenly something hit me hard! Then thousands of other things hit me. I felt as though I was being stoned but tiny little projectiles. It began to chuck it down and the ensuing hailstorm had me run for cover - what little I could find of it. I needed to get my poncho out of my backpack as quick as I could. The wind had managed to blow my hat over the top of my head - I barely caught it. Because the hailstones were so painful on my bare hands it was really hard to get the backpack off. When I got the poncho out of it, I had to get it back on again and then put the poncho on. Have you ever tried to put a cape on in a gale? That's how tricky it was. By now my trousers were soaking and my yellow cycle jacket was also beginning to let the rain through. As soon as I could I cowered. You don't see the hail in the video because of where I was hiding but I was still being pelted with them from the side. It really hurt. I could see another grey squall coming in from the sea. I decided right then I was going to go back down as soon as I could. As luck would have it a car (yes you can drive up there!) was coming down. I flagged it down and asked if they'd take me back to the car park. They were a very nice Spanish couple with a cute little baby in the back who thought the orange monster with the weird voice was very funny. I was so very nearly there and yet so far away.
I got out of the car at the gate to the car-park, thanked my rescuers and walked back the way I'd come not long before. I was drenched. Thankfully the hail was gone though. There was a cafe and craft shop called Ti Linn a little ways back the road. I made a beeline for it. I needed to get out of the wind and rain and dry off. By the time I got there the sun was out again. Mocking me.
I ordered some soup. The other people in the cafe had also come in to shelter from the hailstorm. We all agreed that we had no business being up there. The man sitting next to me said he saw two cyclists up there who pulled out hip flasks when they got to the top and had a nip of scotch. Well it seems the Germans had made it! I'd seen them leave as I walked up the first section so they missed the hail by minutes. After about ten minutes an older couple came in and the woman was covered in mud. They'd driven to the cliffs and she'd gotten out of the car. The wind had lifted her off her feet and dropped her. "Four big strong men there and none of them could stop it!" I was feeling relieved that I didn't try to keep going!
I stayed in the cafe for ages. I watched rain come and go as I posted my videos on Facebook and texted with Tim about the logistics of getting from Donegal to Derry on Friday evening if I can't catch the bus. (Just loads of conflicting information on Bus Eireann's website!) Finally I'd finished my lunch and I had to make a move. I needed to walk back to Carrick before turning south and taking the coast road to Kilcar.
This road proved to be a lovely antidote to the disappointments of earlier on. It rose quite high above sea level and circled around a large hill. It afforded spectacular sea views and was nicely bereft of traffic. It didn't feel very long before Kilcar emerged from around a corner in a little valley looking out to sea. The steep road spiraled around the hill and into the town. I was aware that the heaviness had returned to my feet and was glad to find my lovely B&B exactly where it was supposed to be.
The owners welcomed me warmly and took me to my room which is bordering on luxurious. I had a relaxing hot shower and was so shattered that I just put on my PJs and had my emergency Pot Noodle for dinner. More guests arrived in the late afternoon. I haven't met them yet - no doubt I'll see them at breakfast - but from the accent I think they may be Dutch. When they arrived I heard them tell our hosts: "We have just come from the cliffs. You know these Slieve League cliffs? My god the wind was so bad! It was so dangerous up there!"
It wasn't just me then.
Total mileage: 268.5 miles
https://www.justgiving.com/Jane-Volker
The road out of Carrick towards Sliabh Liag (Slieve League in English) was very pretty. The River Glen raced alongside me as it widened out and made a dash for the sea.
There were rapids...
And muddy deposits ...
As well as boats that had seen better days.
I was on my way to the edge of a mountain (sliabh is the Irish word for mountain) so the road was, of course, uphill, albeit gently at first.
Eventually the climb got steeper, the closer I came to the car park just before the climb up to the cliffs themselves. The wind was blowing hard as I made my way there but I still had the shelter of the mountain in front of me. I wondered what it would be like when that shelter disappeared. It didn't seem to me that the wind was dropping at all. Could the forecast have been mistaken? Perish the thought!!
Turning into the car park was my first real introduction to the ferocity of the oncoming wind. It had stopped me in my tracks several times on the way up but this was a new dimension. All of a sudden I wasn't sure whether this was a good idea. I looked upwards and there seemed to be people on the road that led up to the cliffs themselves. "If there are people walking there, it must be OK," I told myself. I really didn't want to have come this far and not even try. So I went through the gates and headed upwards. I shot the first of three videos on the first hill up which was still relatively sheltered.
The second one I shot after I turned out on to the road that ran parallel with the sea itself. You can see that the wind is getting visibly stronger here. And the third video - called The End - I shot whilst cowering behind a rock face. You can have a look at them HERE. Do try and view them in order - they are numbered. Just before I shot that third video I was trying to take a few pictures of the sea.
I didn't really notice the dark grey cloud that was barreling its way toward land. Suddenly something hit me hard! Then thousands of other things hit me. I felt as though I was being stoned but tiny little projectiles. It began to chuck it down and the ensuing hailstorm had me run for cover - what little I could find of it. I needed to get my poncho out of my backpack as quick as I could. The wind had managed to blow my hat over the top of my head - I barely caught it. Because the hailstones were so painful on my bare hands it was really hard to get the backpack off. When I got the poncho out of it, I had to get it back on again and then put the poncho on. Have you ever tried to put a cape on in a gale? That's how tricky it was. By now my trousers were soaking and my yellow cycle jacket was also beginning to let the rain through. As soon as I could I cowered. You don't see the hail in the video because of where I was hiding but I was still being pelted with them from the side. It really hurt. I could see another grey squall coming in from the sea. I decided right then I was going to go back down as soon as I could. As luck would have it a car (yes you can drive up there!) was coming down. I flagged it down and asked if they'd take me back to the car park. They were a very nice Spanish couple with a cute little baby in the back who thought the orange monster with the weird voice was very funny. I was so very nearly there and yet so far away.
I got out of the car at the gate to the car-park, thanked my rescuers and walked back the way I'd come not long before. I was drenched. Thankfully the hail was gone though. There was a cafe and craft shop called Ti Linn a little ways back the road. I made a beeline for it. I needed to get out of the wind and rain and dry off. By the time I got there the sun was out again. Mocking me.
I ordered some soup. The other people in the cafe had also come in to shelter from the hailstorm. We all agreed that we had no business being up there. The man sitting next to me said he saw two cyclists up there who pulled out hip flasks when they got to the top and had a nip of scotch. Well it seems the Germans had made it! I'd seen them leave as I walked up the first section so they missed the hail by minutes. After about ten minutes an older couple came in and the woman was covered in mud. They'd driven to the cliffs and she'd gotten out of the car. The wind had lifted her off her feet and dropped her. "Four big strong men there and none of them could stop it!" I was feeling relieved that I didn't try to keep going!
I stayed in the cafe for ages. I watched rain come and go as I posted my videos on Facebook and texted with Tim about the logistics of getting from Donegal to Derry on Friday evening if I can't catch the bus. (Just loads of conflicting information on Bus Eireann's website!) Finally I'd finished my lunch and I had to make a move. I needed to walk back to Carrick before turning south and taking the coast road to Kilcar.
This road proved to be a lovely antidote to the disappointments of earlier on. It rose quite high above sea level and circled around a large hill. It afforded spectacular sea views and was nicely bereft of traffic. It didn't feel very long before Kilcar emerged from around a corner in a little valley looking out to sea. The steep road spiraled around the hill and into the town. I was aware that the heaviness had returned to my feet and was glad to find my lovely B&B exactly where it was supposed to be.
The owners welcomed me warmly and took me to my room which is bordering on luxurious. I had a relaxing hot shower and was so shattered that I just put on my PJs and had my emergency Pot Noodle for dinner. More guests arrived in the late afternoon. I haven't met them yet - no doubt I'll see them at breakfast - but from the accent I think they may be Dutch. When they arrived I heard them tell our hosts: "We have just come from the cliffs. You know these Slieve League cliffs? My god the wind was so bad! It was so dangerous up there!"
It wasn't just me then.
Total mileage: 268.5 miles
https://www.justgiving.com/Jane-Volker
Tuesday 5 April 2016
Day 19: Glenclumbkille to Carrick via Malin Beg (14.6 miles)
God I had a great sleep last night! It was so peaceful and I had sheets and a blanket and a quilt on my bed instead of a microfibre duvet. I love sheets and blankets. LOVE THEM. I was toasty warm but not hot. I always get too hot with man-made fibre duvets. Just another reason why my stay at Ionad Siul Hostel was so good. When I came down this morning the lovely Cliff was up and working already. He offered me breakfast and we had a chat about my walk. I forgot to mention, yesterday, when we were chatting that I was raising money for the RNLI as I walked. I know (slaps head on the nearest desk)! I haven't been pushing the fundraising very much yet because these three weeks in Donegal have been a testing ground for me to see if I can actually do the whole thing. I wanted to make sure I could do it first before I started asking people to part with their cash. I want to live up to my end of the bargain. But you know what? I'm fairly confident I can now. Cliff kindly said he'd help promote my walk through the Ionad Siul Facebook page which is, y'know ... brilliant! I'm feeling so very fortunate to have met Cliff and stayed at the hostel. I was genuinely sad to leave. When I come back again for a holiday I will definitely be coming back here.
The sun was shining as I hit the road. My first stop today was to be Malin Beg. It's one of the spur roads on the Wild Atlantic Way. The thing about spur roads, when you're walking, is that you essentially walk them twice - once on the way there, and then again on the way back. I've actually cut out a lot of these detours because they cost me so much time. However, today I had the time and the mileage in hand and it was gorgeous and sunny and I headed for the beach! I actually found my first beach a short distance from the hostel. It was tucked behind a mound of sand dunes opposite the Folk Village (an opportunity to see what life was like in Old Ireland), and I didn't know it was there till I'd walked past.
With the ocean on my right I continued out of town on the now-familiar undulating roads through a lonely boggy landscape. I'm just so in love with it now. It seems to have its own music. Off to my right a lonely Island came into view with a lighthouse perched on it. You may marvel here at the wonders of my X30 zoom lens! (I almost sound like I have a clue how to use a camera don't I?)
Malin Beg itself was around the headland a wee bit. I was beginning to think I would never get there when the familiar rusty Wild Atlantic Way marker came into view. From the road it looked like I'd walked all this way to a lay-by! But when you looked over the wall ... WOW! Another hidden treasure uncovered. Whoever researched all these viewpoints for the Wild Atlantic Way was a genius.
I didn't go down the hundred-odd steps to the beach but decided, instead, to sit on a lovely bench perched high above the beach. I had a drink of water, took some photos and just drank it all in. I was still looking out on beautiful blue skies when I felt rain falling on my hat and then my trousers started to spot up. I turned around to see a weather front had come in from behind me and it was about to pour. I gathered up my belongings and headed for a cafe I passed a small jog back the road. The Village Shop and Coffeehouse (Siopa an Bhaile & Siopa Caife), owned and run by the very affable Christopher, was just the thing! I really didn't need a blackberry and apple crumble and a cup of coffee but the rain was coming down hard outside and I was having such an engaging chat with Christopher about life, the universe and everything, I really didn't have much of an inclination to leave!! I must have stayed more than an hour. The weather front had left and most of the rain had dried up before I set off again. If you ever find yourself in Malin Beg make sure you stop by and say hello!
With the sun back in the sky again I walked back the road I'd not long before walked down. It's funny how it looked completely different. A little over half way along I turned right to go to Carrick. It was a pleasant little road through a valley with Sliabh Liag towering over it to the right. It had the usual up-and-downy rhythm to it and it was a working bog - by that I mean that it was being actively dug out for peat. There were little hillocks of turf sods drying out along the miles of road. The fields that weren't being worked were populated by the usual sheep. I was so happy singing my song of the day (I Got My Heart Set On You by George Harrison) on a loop and wondering what kind of business I would have if I lived here (carrying on from my conversation with Christopher) as I walked along that I didn't really notice the miles go by until, of course, my feet reminded me. The mountain grew ever taller as I neared the end of the road. I'd passed a little lake on the way to break up the view. As I turned back on to the R263 there was a large field with scattered sheep. One of the sheep on seeing me started Baa-ing very loudly and the next thing I knew all the sheep in the field started running toward the fence. They followed me as walked along all joining in. I took a little video of them which you can see on my Facebook page. I'm afraid that my technical manager (Tim) isn't with me and I have no clue how to get the video up on the blog. They didn't stop following till they ran out of field. I felt like I had my very own cheering squad!
Eventually I saw the sea again with what I think could have been distant views of Ben Bulben in Sligo across the bay. The road turned and led me down into Carrick where I found my abode for the night. My room is small but comfy and the sounds happy music from the bar below are reminding me of when I was little and we lived in Emmett Place in Limerick - there was a bar on the corner of our street and I often went to sleep to the sound of the cabaret in full swing. Not many people can say that they consider Delilah and My Way to be lullabies.
I had just taken off my shoes and socks to let my poor throbbing feet breathe when my phone rang. It was a journalist from the Donegal Democrat newspaper who had heard about my walk and had read this very blog and wanted to do a little piece for Thursday's edition. I was a little taken aback but agreed as I thought it'd be a great way to get the ball rolling on the fundraising. We seemed to have a nice chat. I was very tired and I'm afraid I was rambling a bit but I do remember being asked what was special about this part of the world. I don't know how well I answered because I'm not a very eloquent speaker but I will say now that the kindness and the willingness to go out of their way to help a stranger, is a special quality of the people I've met so far on this trip. I have a firm belief in the goodness of people generally but there's a warmth here that's very special, and I'm so pleased I came.
Tomorrow I walk to Sliabh Liag (Slieve League). The Wild Atlantic Way's website says of the cliffs:
Total mileage: 257 miles
https://www.justgiving.com/Jane-Volker
The sun was shining as I hit the road. My first stop today was to be Malin Beg. It's one of the spur roads on the Wild Atlantic Way. The thing about spur roads, when you're walking, is that you essentially walk them twice - once on the way there, and then again on the way back. I've actually cut out a lot of these detours because they cost me so much time. However, today I had the time and the mileage in hand and it was gorgeous and sunny and I headed for the beach! I actually found my first beach a short distance from the hostel. It was tucked behind a mound of sand dunes opposite the Folk Village (an opportunity to see what life was like in Old Ireland), and I didn't know it was there till I'd walked past.
The window tax meant that poor farmers could not afford
windows and these old stone cottages were often very dark.
With the ocean on my right I continued out of town on the now-familiar undulating roads through a lonely boggy landscape. I'm just so in love with it now. It seems to have its own music. Off to my right a lonely Island came into view with a lighthouse perched on it. You may marvel here at the wonders of my X30 zoom lens! (I almost sound like I have a clue how to use a camera don't I?)
Malin Beg itself was around the headland a wee bit. I was beginning to think I would never get there when the familiar rusty Wild Atlantic Way marker came into view. From the road it looked like I'd walked all this way to a lay-by! But when you looked over the wall ... WOW! Another hidden treasure uncovered. Whoever researched all these viewpoints for the Wild Atlantic Way was a genius.
I didn't go down the hundred-odd steps to the beach but decided, instead, to sit on a lovely bench perched high above the beach. I had a drink of water, took some photos and just drank it all in. I was still looking out on beautiful blue skies when I felt rain falling on my hat and then my trousers started to spot up. I turned around to see a weather front had come in from behind me and it was about to pour. I gathered up my belongings and headed for a cafe I passed a small jog back the road. The Village Shop and Coffeehouse (Siopa an Bhaile & Siopa Caife), owned and run by the very affable Christopher, was just the thing! I really didn't need a blackberry and apple crumble and a cup of coffee but the rain was coming down hard outside and I was having such an engaging chat with Christopher about life, the universe and everything, I really didn't have much of an inclination to leave!! I must have stayed more than an hour. The weather front had left and most of the rain had dried up before I set off again. If you ever find yourself in Malin Beg make sure you stop by and say hello!
With the sun back in the sky again I walked back the road I'd not long before walked down. It's funny how it looked completely different. A little over half way along I turned right to go to Carrick. It was a pleasant little road through a valley with Sliabh Liag towering over it to the right. It had the usual up-and-downy rhythm to it and it was a working bog - by that I mean that it was being actively dug out for peat. There were little hillocks of turf sods drying out along the miles of road. The fields that weren't being worked were populated by the usual sheep. I was so happy singing my song of the day (I Got My Heart Set On You by George Harrison) on a loop and wondering what kind of business I would have if I lived here (carrying on from my conversation with Christopher) as I walked along that I didn't really notice the miles go by until, of course, my feet reminded me. The mountain grew ever taller as I neared the end of the road. I'd passed a little lake on the way to break up the view. As I turned back on to the R263 there was a large field with scattered sheep. One of the sheep on seeing me started Baa-ing very loudly and the next thing I knew all the sheep in the field started running toward the fence. They followed me as walked along all joining in. I took a little video of them which you can see on my Facebook page. I'm afraid that my technical manager (Tim) isn't with me and I have no clue how to get the video up on the blog. They didn't stop following till they ran out of field. I felt like I had my very own cheering squad!
Eventually I saw the sea again with what I think could have been distant views of Ben Bulben in Sligo across the bay. The road turned and led me down into Carrick where I found my abode for the night. My room is small but comfy and the sounds happy music from the bar below are reminding me of when I was little and we lived in Emmett Place in Limerick - there was a bar on the corner of our street and I often went to sleep to the sound of the cabaret in full swing. Not many people can say that they consider Delilah and My Way to be lullabies.
I had just taken off my shoes and socks to let my poor throbbing feet breathe when my phone rang. It was a journalist from the Donegal Democrat newspaper who had heard about my walk and had read this very blog and wanted to do a little piece for Thursday's edition. I was a little taken aback but agreed as I thought it'd be a great way to get the ball rolling on the fundraising. We seemed to have a nice chat. I was very tired and I'm afraid I was rambling a bit but I do remember being asked what was special about this part of the world. I don't know how well I answered because I'm not a very eloquent speaker but I will say now that the kindness and the willingness to go out of their way to help a stranger, is a special quality of the people I've met so far on this trip. I have a firm belief in the goodness of people generally but there's a warmth here that's very special, and I'm so pleased I came.
Tomorrow I walk to Sliabh Liag (Slieve League). The Wild Atlantic Way's website says of the cliffs:
Some of the highest and finest marine cliffs in Europe, County Donegal's Sliabh Liag (Slieve League in English) are not to be missed.[...] As you climb toward the top of Sliabh Liag - which at 601m high is not a place for the faint-hearted - there are terrific views of the Atlantic Ocean, Donegal Bay and the Sligo mountains.I'm not sure I'll make it all the way to 601m! The forecast is for wind....
Total mileage: 257 miles
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