After a very quiet night we walked the Fintra shoreline once more before departing and were soon pulled up at the parking for the dramatic Slieve League Cliffs - we paid for a couple of hours and set off up the last mile of tarmac to the first viewing point with its inevitable cluster of souvenir vans and a coffee shack. In glorious sunshine we decided to climb further for ever better views of the remarkable cliffs with the sea a variety of brillliant blues far below. Given the perfect conditions we climbed on and up to the SE summit with an exciting ridge scramble for me as Mandy took a lower but more sensible route. The views were superb in every direction and whilst there was a round trip possible by continuing to the second summit and descending in to the valley we were aware of overstaying our parking time. We passed another numbered Eire sign and a Napoleonic watch tower on our return and were relieved that the car park attendant let us off the additional fees as we had been out five hours. A night above the beautiful Silverstrand beach topped off a memorable day - we found the energy to descend the 160 or so steps for an afternoon in the sun on golden sands with a few hardy souls braving the waters.
Glencolumbkille Folk Village was fascinating, mainly due to the back story whereby the local preacher had decided to do something about the economic and population decline in this remote area so started a variety of village improvement projects ranging from installing fresh water to homes, building a community hall and creating the thatched replica buildings that housed a range of historic artefacts and provided an outlet for locally produced crafts. The modest but remarkable man's history was caught in a cine film shot at the time and his achievements remain to this day providing vital income to the area.
Wild mountain country, narrow roads and a long narrow valley brought us out to Port where a small pier provided a remarkable place to stay for the night with just one cottage under renovation a few hundred yards back along the road. A panicking lamb was quickly reunited with its mother before we walked along the coast, met a couple from San Francisco who had been at Slieve League and the Folk Museum earlier and spotted some remarkable patterns of lichen on the rocks. Back at the van there was, surprisingly a decent 3G signal allowing us to watch some IPlayer catch ups and other than a fisherman arriving at dawn we spent a night in total solitude.
Granny Pass was a narrow, twisty road over to Ardara where in heavy squalls we walked out to the remarkable sea caves at Maghera, accessible only at low tide, but returned to the van soaked so stuck the Eber on full blast and changed our clothing. A small museum at Glentiese was a bit gloomy and dated so didn't entertain us for long but the large dolmen out at Kilclooney was worth the walk over sodden fields passing two glum looking donkeys. The huge roof slab perched precariously on supporting stones would have been a mammoth task even for today let alone 7000 years ago. A small car park behind Dooey beach provided another quiet spot with a walk round the headland passing a small barrel shaped beach sauna that looked unlikely to make any profit and later we walked down to the sands again to watch a decent sunset.
With a service stop due we drove round to the community run campsite at Magherey which provided sheltered spots in the dunes with EHU for 20 euros. As we had arrived early there was time to take the bikes out for a surprisingly hilly circuit of the headland passing another lookout tower, some abandoned soapstone workings and a couple of empty cottages that would be superb for renovation before returning along the maze of lanes back to the site with a brief stop in Dungloe for bread and milk. The pub was drinks only but provided for a pleasant couple of hours and over on the site a handful of vans had also arrived. Unfortunately the occupier of one, who had parked unnecessarily close anyway, then allowed his dogs to run loose and piss over our bike cover. I asked him to see about washing it off which he did but they then proceeded to worry another van's dog despite the owners asking him twice to put theirs on leads - selfish and irresponsible behaviour which to be fair has been rare.
After taking on water and disposing of waste we paid up at the coffee shack outside the pub as no one had been round and then drove to Burtonport for the ferry over to Aranmore Island. It was a small car ferry reminiscent of a landing craft and similar to those used in Scotland so taking the bikes was an easy and free option giving us transport around the island's lanes, some off road tracks and then out to the lighthouse at the NW tip. Here a short path beside the lighthouse wall led to a steep set of steps that took us all the way down to sea level beneath jagged cliffs but above a heavy swell that crashed in to a large sea cave. It was a real highlight of the trip to be down there in such raw nature and I would be sorely tempted to return and stay the night on the lonely road in stormy conditions. We passed a memorial to islanders who had left many generations ago during the famine for a new life on Beaver Island in North America where to this day they retain their Celtic heritage and many traditions. We were back at the harbour in time for a late lunch at the pub sat outside in the hot sun before a calm return to Burtonport. We decided to overnight in Dungloe main car park having shopped and done laundry and took an evening walk round the bay, exchanging a few hello's with a group of Muslim women who replied shyly - we guessed they would be asylum seekers and again reflected on the journeys they must have made and the challenges that would lie ahead. Last year in the Balkans I had had a taste of the isolation and difficulties of a language barrier yet had the means and finance to return to normality at any time so I always very much feel for people who have been forced to seek a safer future elsewhere.
After a look round Dungloe on the Monday morning we drove across to the spit of land that accomodates the landing strip of Donegal airport and pulled up above Carnboy beach, part of a twisted coastline of bays, beaches, coves and headlands. A number of small caravans were dotted amongst the hilly dunes overlooking the main bay with a small pier, fishing boats moored up in the calm waters and a few hardy souls again taking a dip. The strong breeze continued but it was mild so we set off on the bikes and headed round to another long headland that until a small road bridge had been put in had been Cruit Island. The road passed right through Cruit golf course and ended at another small pier where we enjoyed lunch. On our return journey we turned inland briefly and the scenery changed almost instantly to rough moorland and peat bogs with far fewer properties. Again we had time for a couple of hours on the beach and then enjoyed an evening in the van as the sun set.
We walked round the coast and back past the 'airport' - a few local flights and some private aircraft use the facilities and a rather smart executive jet was parked up with engine covers in situ to prevent sand or nesting birds we presumed. Two swans and their cygnets bobbed on the inland lake as we returned to the van and then drove round to the large carpark at Magheraroarty pier to stay the night befor visiting Tory Island. It was a sunny day so after coffee and a cake in the surf shop cum cafe we set off on the bikes to explore the inland scenery beneath the Muckish mountains dominated by conical Errigal. We stopped at a lovely ruined farmhouse with an external stone staircase that would make for a wonderful renovation project before reaching Money Beg above Dunlewy Loch. The stone built Sacred Heart Church had an impressive circular tower and inside a marvellous vaulted wooden roof soared above us. After a steady climb north we then had a long descent back to the coast before returning to the ferry car park to watch the evening ferry unload and then walking out along the dunes of Magheraroarty spit passing a very photogenic cluster of decaying wooden fishing boats. At the far end we crossed to the sandy side looking out towards Inishbofin Island with Tory Island another few miles further out. The setting was one of the best of the trip and we were entranced as the sun set during our return walk.
The 11.00 ferry (28 euros each) left on time for the hour's crossing - it is an old boat that used to service the Arran Islands and was, a few years ago, the source of much acrimony on the island when the tender came up for renewal as many felt it was not up to the job. However whilst rather slow and basic it delivered us to the small island with a population of around 150 that has yet to see the new money and prosperity of other islands we have visited. The houses were by and large careworn and somewhat scruffy - the large number of rusting cars and vans reminiscent of the Outer Hebrides not helping the overall impression. However out on the headland above East Town we were delighted to observe several hundred puffins dotted around a sloping grassy cliff that provided their essential burrows for nesting. We had also had a beautiful view down in to a cove where a forest of seaweed was floating in the calm still waters and returned the same way for our sandwiches in a sheltered harbour. Less than 3 miles took us out to the lighthouse at the opposite end of the island which also apparently hosts a base station for the global GPS navigation system. On the far side a single Commonwealth War grave marks the spot where a 26 year old sapper from REME lies, alongside 8 drowned sailors from a 19th century shipwreck. Hoofing it back to harbour we almost missed the small gift shop and cafe which provided good hot chocolates and an ice cream for me. We assumed the young French woman running it was on a summer holiday job but she had actually met a guy whilst visiting the island on a holiday and now lives here with a family of 3 children - a far cry from her home city of Lyon. She teaches French (of course) in the school which educates children up to 18 surprisingly and also paints and writes. Having mixed up the departure times (my fault) we had half an hour to spare so walked along the shore to a simple cabin that housed another craft shop where I was tempted by a couple of T shirts with a puffin design to the delight of the owner who gave us some interesting insights in to the realities of island life. This was brought in to focus when she mentionned that the following day's ferries were cancelled due to bad weather and indeed down at the quayside there was a general buzz as additional passengers, both locals and tourists, had decided to jump island whilst they could. It was a much rougher return crossing and I noticed that the half dozen or so large racing yachts we had watched earlier had also run for cover.
A very windy night confirmed as ever that the van can be a warm and comfortable haven and we left this morning having changed a gas cylinder, filled the fresh water and dealt with the residuals. Ireland makes more than adequate provision for vanners and has a tolerance for wild camping that is being gradually eroded elsewhere. Unlike the NC500 in Scotland which is overused and abused to the chagrin of locals the WAW at 1600 miles can absorb more visitors and by and large the locals welcome the benefits to the economy - I hope this won't change too much and that will be largely dependent on courtesy and consideration being shown by visitors of all sorts. The forecast heavy rain and strong winds gave us the excuse for a more relaxed day as we followed the coast round via dramatic cliffs at Hook Head initially and then on to Dunfanaghy village with lunch in the Muck'nMuffin coffee shop and a quick look in the chapel at Ards Friary where Capuchin monks live work and pray - it was too wet to take on any of the forest walks but dried up enough for a quick look round Doe Castle right on the foreshore. We are now tucked away at the Singing Inn which allows overnighting for 15 euros and where we anticipate a good meal by the roaring fire. With just a few days before Mandy's departure on Monday the weather is set to settle down again so we will, with luck, enjoy the very north of Donegal.
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