Advertisement
Published: September 3rd 2012
Edit Blog Post
It was shortly after 9.30 pm on a wet Tuesday night. Mine host of our accomodation kindly provided a superb drop off and pick you up at the pub service .............. only up to 1am mind, or we'd ask you get to get a taxi. This sounded late to a man who specialised in the 8.20 pm bus. It looked like they weren't planning to call last orders anytime soon then. We entered the bar in the village ........... there were two, but we'd been assured that "live" music was assured in our chosen venue. The lounge was completely empty. There was no apparent craic in there. The bar was packed in comparison.......... a scattering of 8-10 people, mostly leaning on the bar from their high stools. Guinness drinkers to a man! Celtic were making short work of Helsingborgs on the TV in a Champions League qualifier, but nobody seemed to be paying too much attention. We substantially increased the bar population with our companions from Conneticut and Russia! I'd heard of exporting stout to Saint Petersburg, but never imagined Russians coming to look for it in the Emerald Isle..... especially in the form of a young lady. I come from
Moscow. My English is not very good. Better then our Russian, I assure you. We order a round, 3 Guinness and a Smithwicks for the Russian. Are you sure? You won't like it as much as Guinness.
It was shortly after 10.30 pm on a wet Tuesday night. We had relocated to the lounge. Celtic had finished toying with Helsingborgs. The "live" music had materialised. The population of the village and some more had now come out for a small refreshment. The Guinness was flowing. The Russian had abandoned the Smithwicks and the word cheers. We had found the "craic". Amazing music talent! The pub falls silent for the vocalist. More Guinness flowed. A taxi might be in order after all. There might be hard times going on in Ireland at the moment, but when night comes they certainly know how to enjoy themselves. The ghost estates and the price of diesel are put to rest as the owners of the black stuff rack up even more profit.
It was shortly after 9.30 pm on a fine Wednesday night. The drop off service had been requested and we were back. Addicted. Back for another night on the tiles.
The Russian was having an early night and the American was looking for the caric in Galway. We were joined by the Swiss. The "live" music was back after 10.00 pm and so were the rest of the village. Always money left over for a small refreshment. The price of the Guinness was something of a surprise given some of the horror stories about prices nearer the big city. They must be making it up - 6 Euros? I was happy with 3.80 Euros. That'll be the same as home then. I'll take another one.
And so to why we find ourselves in the bottom corner of County Donegal. Slieve League. The highest sea cliffs on the island of Ireland. At 598 metres they are twice as high as the Cliffs of Moher. There are some higher cliffs on Achill Island and there is debate that a windswept piece of the Faroes is technically higher, but basically if it is sea cliffs you are after in Europe this could be your mecca. The view is astonishing - if you can see it. A mere 10 miles away the weather can be clear, but the clouds have a nasty habit
of lingering on the summit. There is no obvious commercialism. No pay and display car park at the main viewing point. An ice cream van and a guy selling Donegal sweaters and caps from a small stall. It's just you and nature. Next stop, America. On a fine day, there are sea trips to the base of the cliffs from Teelin Harbour. The Illy coffee is first class at the cafe at the small visitor centre where the coaches stop. We had two trips to Slieve League and walked up to the cloud line on our initial viit. The second trip was blessed with a brief glimpse of the summit - cloud free - and great views of Donegal, Leitrim and Mayo. The coast and the views are all consuming in this part of Donegal. There are a scattering of towers on the headlands, built to keep Napoleon at bay in the early 1800s. The coast itself managed to account for a sizeable portion of the Spanish Armada. There is tower near the top car park of Slieve League.
We based ourselves around Glencolmcille - the glen of Saint Columba. We walked up to Glen Head, where another tower
stands proud keeping an eye out to sea. We set off in bright sunshine and sheltered from the driving rain behind the tower when we reached the summit. All forms of weather in an hour. This place could give New Zealand a run for it's money. The sheep knew it was coming and made for lower ground. The ruins of a church allegedly used by Saint Columba lies at the base of track to the summit of Glen Head.
Dia duit! The Glen is technically gaelic speaking and there is an institute running courses in the language to promote it's use. We swapped words with some of our fellow guests each morning - we'd gone to the pub (where the use of gaelic is common place) and they had stayed in and done their homework. A long standing Folk Museum (built in 1967 by Father James McDyer) can provide a diversion if the weather is really wet, but this place is all about the outdoors. The museum was built to draw attention to the plight of the rural population and provide employment. It was opened by the then Minister for Tranpsport and Tourism. The day after the museum obtained
planning permission for it's premises. Only in Ireland! The finest beach is the Silver Strand down at Malinbeg, which seems protected form the worst of the weather by it's position. Do not be put off by the steps down to the sand, go for a paddle and as they would say in gaelic
Tóg é go bog é ...................... take it easy.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.277s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 34; qc: 42; dbt: 0.1654s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.3mb