On Saturday, we headed further north. The winds had abated some, but were still very blustery. Combined with the very cool temperatures, it was another brisk day. Layers have been key.
There is a thin strip of the Republic of Ireland, just north of Sligo, that scoots past Northern Ireland and on north to Co. Donegal, and it's called the Gateway to the Northwest. I've never had that image in my head. I thought of Donegal and NI (as it's known here, as opposed to ROI for the Republic) side by side. In actuality, Co. Donegal lies north of about half of NI. Many of the road signs mention cities in NI without any distinction. In fact, we were looking for a highway sign to Donegal Town and Letterkenny, but all the signs pointed to either Enniskillen or Derry, both in NI. We just needed to know which city lay beyond the one we were aiming for. Seems a tad unusual in any case, but even more so given the past and the fact that they are two separate countries.
We made a brief stop in Bundoran, which calls itself Ireland's premier seacoast resort. It was a rather sad stop. This town must be one of the premier victims of the crash of the Celtic Tiger economy. Broken windows, empty shops, very gritty and dreary. One of the better looking establishments was the bookmaker. There is also a relatively thriving water park--right on the seashore--and it is a surfing destination. There were a few hotels, but very little in the way of eating establishments or shops. It was a depressing place to be, not enhanced by the cold winds. Our impression is that this is a seaside town mostly for North Irelanders. NI has no western Atlantic coastline, and the border is only about 4 miles from the town. Many of the license plates we saw were from NI.
With that less-than-encouraging introduction to Co. Donegal, we headed on to Donegal Town. After checking into our quirky B&B, we went to explore the town. (I say "quirky" as a nod to our hostess' strange attraction to gargoyles of every size and type, inside and out. But its view, sitting on a hillside above a quiet inlet on Donegal Bay, would be hard to beat. The quality of the bed we won't discuss in polite society.)
The view from our B&B room, just before 10pm. Love the long, long days here in the north and so close to the solstice.
Donegal Town is a thriving, bustling place, though fairly gritty itself. There were tour buses dropping off people at hotels, and a wedding celebration was happening at one hotel. People seemed to be everywhere. On this busy Saturday night, we were lucky to snag a parking place in a "pay and display" lot on the pier at the edge of town and walked from end to end, along the river, and dropped into a good-sized shop in the space of 30-40 minutes, so it's pretty compact. It has a castle right downtown, just a block off The Diamond--Donegal Town's central square--which adds a nice touch.
We had just 1 day for sightseeing in this southern Donegal region, and we headed out relatively early on Sunday morning. From the onset, it was an exciting day: the wind had finally stopped, and there was sunshine! At no point in the day did we don a jacket.
We drove out to the far end of the peninsula to visit Glencolmcille and its Folk Life Village. It has cottages representing the 1700's, about 1850, and the early 20th century. There was also a fisherman's cottage, a shop/pub, and a schoolhouse. It was quite well done and gave a feel for how life, here in this remote spot that calls itself "the end of beyond," changed over time. Glencolmcille didn't get electricity until 1953, which is so hard to imagine. A beautiful spot, but a rugged life I suspect.
We got a chance to have a nice long conversation with the manager of the village. One of life's funny synchronicities: she had visited Portland (and Seattle and Victoria) to talk about weaving with some weaving and fiber arts guilds.
After we left Glencolmcille, we climbed up over the Glengesh Pass and came down into the pretty valley where Ardara is located.
Everything in this southern part of Co. Donegal is about wool--tweeds, sweaters, clothing made from the famous Donegal wools. We visited one of the major purveyors in Donegal Town and a couple in Ardara, a tweed hot spot about 45 minutes out in the hills. Lots of temptations, mostly left behind. It was fun to see some of the looms, and we had a nice conversation with a man working a loom, with his 2-year old playing with bobbins of wool at his feet.
We drove north to see Portnoo and the beautiful strand at Narin, with breakers hitting the beach from two sides.
On our way back to town, we stopped to admire the huge fishing boats in the very industrious Killybegs, "Ireland's Premier Fishing Port."
A brief visit to this area, but we're glad to add this chapter to our Wild Atlantic Way journey.
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