The plan was to do a walk with a sea breeze and cooler temperatures but that didn’t work out. We drove to a lovely little village near Malden in Essex parked up and set out for the day.
We had a 10 or 12 mile walk planned along the coastal path and then back through the villages inland. The temperature soon reached 35° C with little or no breeze. Not the weather forecast we’ve been promised. Still, it was lovely to take in the sea air.
A few very warm miles in we walked past the Radio Caroline ship, the Ross Revenge. Where was that sea breeze we been promised?
We had a decision to make. Did we do the full 12 miles that we had planned or did we cut inland a little earlier? The only sensible thing at this stage was to take a shorter route back.
Thankfully, for the hour, Some cloud gave us respite from the heat and an occasional light breeze was very, very welcome.
Despite taking a shorter route, the walk was still 10.75 miles. The sight of the village Church was very welcome. Half an hour later, we dropped off the rucksacks at the car and made our way to the emergency rehydration station.
Back in June 1988 I spend three weeks walking and hitch-hiking from Cork to Galway then on to Belfast. I have many, many wonderful memories of this special time and I have always wanted to complete the journey along the west coast. My aim in this blog is to share my preparations in the hope that it might inspire you to visit this wonderful and sometimes overlooked part of Ireland. It took me a few weeks to sort out our route and accommodation but if you don't want to plan everything yourself contact Seamus at Walking Donegal
It would take many weeks to complete my 1988 walk from Galway, then around Mayo, Sligo and Donegal, more time than I can afford away from family and work, so I've convinced a very good friend of mine Tim, to spend a week walking the Wild Atlantic Way around Dunegal at the end of June 2018.
The Wild Atlantic Way is the world’s longest defined coastal touring route. From Malin Head in County Donegal, the country’s most northerly point, to Mizen Head in County Cork, the most southerly point, the route weaves and winds across 2,500km of beautiful coastline.
The Wild Atlantic Way website is the route’s official tourism information source and is operated by Fáilte Ireland, the National Tourism Development Authority.
Our plan is to walk about 170 Km (105 miles) the whole length of Donegal along the very top of Ireland for 9 days. The walk will be challenging, averaging over 22 Km (14 miles) per day after a couple of softer days to allow us to get used to the weight of the rucksacks and rising to 26 Km on day 6. An I'm sure that the Atlantic weather will bring it's own challenges.
We start the journey from Stansted Airport just north of London to Dunegal Airport via Dublin, then start the walk from there. Landing on the small airstrip at Dunegal Airport, voted the second most scenic airstrip in the world, will be the start of our adventure.
Blue = Walking Green = Public transport
Day 1 - Saturday 23rd June: Stansted to Meenlaragh
Stansted to Dublin
The early start on a Saturday morning was worth it. Tim and I had been walking everywhere in preparation for this trip and doing 10 to 15 mile hikes every weekend for the past few weeks, culminating in "full dressed rehearsals" with the fully packed rucksacks.
Dublin to Dunegal Airport
Donegal, not content with being voted the coolest place in the world to visit in 2017 by National Geographic Traveller, has now had the landing strip at its regional airport in Carrickfinn voted the second most scenic in the world.
Arranmore Island
The first flight to Dublin was unremarkable but the flight to Donegal Airport was quite something else.It seemed to take no time at all before we were following the west coast but it looked more like the Mediterranean than the Atlantic.
We had originally planned to walk round the coast to Bunbeg then take the ferry up the coast to Tory Island but the ferry only runs from the top of the coast now, but our walk started with a short 4.6 mile walk to the famous Leo’s Tavern, the home of Clannad and Enya.
Dunegal Airport to Atlantic View B&B Meenlaragh
Our 170 Km walk starts from the airport to Bunbeg to Leo's Tavern, the family home of Clannad and Enya. Given my music collection, a quick pint there will probably feel more like a pilgrimage than an excuse for my first pint of proper Guinness. Tabhairne Leo (Leo's Tavern) in Meenaleck +353 7495 48143 http://leostavern.com/
Our original plan was to continue the walk from Leo's Tavern to Bunbeg on the west coast, then take the ferry from there to Tory the next morning. Unfortunatly the new ferry company is only sailing from Magheraroarty harbour on the north coast, so we had to make a last minute change of route. It's nearly 31 Km (19 miles) from the airport to Meenlaragh on the north coast and given that we land around 14:20 (if there are no flight delays) it will be too late in the day to walk to the north coast. From my research, it looks like there are no buses running on Saturday afternoon, so we will need to call an airport taxi to take us the the north coast.
Walking the whole 250 Km (160 miles) along the Wild Atlantic Way from Dunegal Airport to Derry airport would take much more than the 9 days we have for this walk, so unfortunately we need to skip some of the route anyway.
It was late afternoon and the bar was already packed with immaculately dress people celebrating a birthday. As expected two musicians were playing traditional Irish music in the accordion and guitar but what we didn’t expect were that the bar staff gave us a demonstration of Irish dancing too.
The Guinness served by Barclay, Enya’s brother, went down well but the taxi to the north coast seemed to arrive too soon. Because of the changes to the ferry it was much too far to walk to the aptly named Atlantic View B&B. After a beautiful sea trout at yet another bar it was off early to bed, ready for the adventure in the morning.
Day 2 - Sunday 24th June. Tory Island
Apparently we missed a spectacular sunset as we were asleep before 10PM but the full Irish breakfast in the morning was worth getting up for.
The Tory ferry peer turned out to be just 20 minutes away and it was already in port waiting for the first day trippers.
Tory Island never seems to get any closer until you’re almost there and it did not disappoint at all. The islanders are joking that the weather is always like this but somehow I don’t think that it’s normally 25C with not a cloud to be seen.
The one and only road on the island looks like it’s just been laid. A perfect tarmac ribbon stretching away from the few houses at the harbour which is "really needed" by the dozen or so cars on the island. Easy walking doesn't come close to describing the road to the end of the 3 mile long island but the breathtaking views stay out of sight until the climb over the headland.
Three words are needed to describe the view that opens up at the top of the island: stunning, stunning, stunning. Is this really the North Atlantic or have we been teleported to a Greek Island?
The sea is deep blue but the puffins darting out of the cliffs remind us that we are still in Ireland. This really feels a million miles away from day to day life but the whole of Donegal seem blessed with superb Internet access, so this is the perfect spot for a “look where we are” FaceTime call home.
We had to wait a while for the 5PM ferry so we were “forced” to call into to hotel bar and sit outside with a pint and a bowl of chips. On the next table I thought I recognised a face from my Internet research and sure enough it was Patsy the King of Tory.
After a little rehydration therapy at the bar and an explore of the lower side of the island the journey back on the ferry was a smooth as on the way out.
The walk around the coast to the B&B took a couple of hours, rather than the hour I had remembered. Looking back at the itinerary later that evening confirmed that my memory was at fault, not my planning. The next time I ask if we should take the longer road around a hill or the quicker one over the top, remind me to listen to Tim and take the easier one. The temperature was 25C with no breeze, and the B&B was again up hill from the village.
Later that evening we walked to the pub to meet Shamus the local walking guide that I had contacted during my planning. Shamus was indeed the font of local knowledge that I was hoping for and I was pleased that he didn’t find any holes in our planned route. We escaped the pub just at the point where the pints seemed to be coming with increasing ease.
Day 3 - Monday 25th June. Doe Castle to Milford
I will remember the breakfast at Henmy’s B&B for a long time. Not just a full Irish breakfast, there was another plate with extra sausages, bacon and black pudding, three types of home baked bread and warm rolls. Fortunately we had booked a taxi to Doe Castle rather than waiting for the first bus that wasn’t due until nearly 11AM. The taxi ride to Doe Castle have breakfast a chance to settle a little.
The castle is set in a beautiful location and was totally deserted. We later heard that it could be haunted and on a typical bleak winters day I could understand why people would think that but the weather today was anything but typical.
The Wild Atlantic Way guide mentioned that the roads would be quiet and to expect grass growing up the middle. Well sure enough only about 8 cars passed us all day on the walk over the hills to Milford. We had a choice of 3 routes to Milford with a hike over a 1000ft hill being favourite in our plans. However with the weather forecast warning of temperatures over 27C we made the sensible decision to take the lower route to the coast.
The walk on the coast road with blue skies, clear blue sea, and light breezes at times really didn’t feel like the north coast of Ireland.
Milford town seems to be built on as many hills as Rome and the hotel at the top of the last hill was a welcome sight.
We did manage a few drinks to celebrate my birthday, well maybe a couple more after that, but walking 13 miles in the sun does sap the stamina a little and we welcomed to hotel beds well before 10PM again. What wimps!
Day 4 - Tuesday 26th June. Milford to Buncrana
The sky was mercifully slightly overcast with the sun trying very hard to burn the high cloud away. Our choice of route over the hills to the other coast was really pleasant, then the walk along the main coast road was easy but our arms were getting tired waving back to every car that passed us. With clean cool sea air filling our lungs each headland opened new view to Inishowen on the other side of the inlet where we will be spending the rest of the walk. The walk to the ferry at Rathmullan flew by and we arrived to watch the ferry pulling away.
Doing the natural thing we adjourned to the waiting room at the Beachcomber Inn with a stunning view to our destination for the day at Buncrana on the other side of the bay.
Peruvian flags and red and white bunting were everywhere and we were soon told why. The local priest had spent many years in Peru so, failing an Irish team to support at the FIFA world football cup, the idea of supporting Peru grew beyond all expectations resulting in a visit of the Peruvian ambassador all the way from Dublin and an RTE TV crew to interview the locals for national TV. The town of Rathmullan was even presented by the ambassador with one of the only two official Peruvian flags in Ireland.
I love ferry crossings. There such a sense of departing one place and arriving somewhere new and exciting.
I had an idea of finding the location of my great-grandmother’s grocery store in Buncrana but the chances were slim. I had studied the 100 year old photograph and traveled every street on Google Streetview in the faint hope of recognizing the shop in the high street. And then, at the top of the road ahead of us, there it must be!
Every detail from the old photograph seemed to fit the purple house across the road. There seemed no way to be sure that this was indeed my great-granny Potter’s shop but chats with the locals, and a taxi driver later, assured me that it was indeed the location of the original grocer's shop.
A brilliant and relaxing day, and Peru even won their game 2-0
Day 5 - Wednesday 27th June. Buncrana to to Carndonagh
Ireland is uphill. Well that’s how it felt many times during this days walk. The road from Buncrana to Carndonagh over the hills was a steady climb and the thermometer on Tim’s rucksack was already reading 35C by mid morning and there was no breeze nor any shade at all.
We left the main road to follow a quiet back road on what what was indicated as a footpath on the map, but the grass was waist deep at times and the going tough. Definitely the “road less traveled”.
After 2 hours in the exhausting heat the path re-joined the main road but we still had about 4 hours walking across the moors ahead of us.
It was just too hot so we did the Irish thing and after about 5 minutes with my thumb out for a lift, we were in the comfort of Murphy’s minibus with the windows open enjoying the spectacular views across the hills.
Murphy dropped us in Carndonagh town centre outside the Persian Bar. We were hours too early for our evening stop at the B&B so there was no other choice but to go for some more intensive rehydration therapy in the bar.
I knew that my granddad was from Carndonagh and that my great-uncle Willy-John had lived in the house where my granddad was born, until he passed away a few years ago, but what were the chances that the old gentlemen sitting on the corner of the bar today knew Willy-John well. He told us that my great uncle used to frequent the Persian Bar where he would have his 2 bottles of beer. It did feel like I was coming back to the family home.
Suitably rehydrated we walked the last couple of miles to the Riversdale House B&B much earlier in the day than planned
We walked right in to a film set for the Irish B&B association. The cows were obviously looking for a part in the scene.
It would be unfair to compare the B&B’s that we have stayed in but the location of this one was an obvious clue to the decision that the film crew made.
Maybe the fact that the Irish Open Golf tournament was due to start the next week, and that a famous Irish golfer Rory McIlroy had booked this location for the week of the tournament were also a clue to the presence of the film crew.
After what we have come to expect as the most luxurious part of the day, the shower, we had to return to the Persian Bar (after a quick fish dinner) for a couple of pints but were soon back for yet another early night.
Day 6 - Thursday 28th June. Carndonagh to Malin Head
This was supposed to be the hardest and longest days walk with 16 miles planned and the sun was already burning at 9AM. The weather forecast was warning again of high temperatures, starting to compare this week to the drought of 1976, so the sensible thing was to call a taxi to take us to a small car park around the coast road but still several miles south of Malin Head .
Behind us, on the other side of the coast, Donegal was preparing for the Irish Open golf tournament next week, but on this side it was just the occasional car, Skylarks and sheep. Each headland and hilltop opened views full of promise for a spectacular climax at the top of the world.
The Napoleonic tower that marks the end of the road and the top of Ireland soon appeared on the horizon but didn’t seemed to be getting any closer for nearly an hour, until we were just under the last steep hill.
The horizon opened out after the last push up the steep hill that marks the end of the road and the views were truly breathtaking.
We had achieved what we had set out to do, walk across the top of Ireland to its most northerly point, but after this we would be heading back toward Derry and the flight home so we really didn’t want to leave. We savored the views for at least an hour just to take in where we were.
We had walked from far over the horizon, but had plenty more miles to go. The adventure was far from over.
OK boots, it's time to head back
“It’s time to turn around and head back” I told my boots but there were still plenty of things planned before leaving this enchanting part of the world.
First stop was the Star Wars rebel base known as Farrens Bar used by the crew during the filming of The Last Jedi.
The landlord had a few stories to tell and I can understand how easily it would be to get star struck with the sudden attention of the world's media in this quiet part of Ireland.
After the now compulsory intensive rehydration therapy stop, the walk over to the Sandrock hostel was mercifully down hill. Looking across the mill pond calm sea to where we’d started just this morning I let my mind wonder over the past few days that culminated in reaching the very top of Ireland. The road would be taking us home now so it was with mixed feelings that we tucked in to the bunk beds in the hostel that night.
Day 7 - Friday 29th. Malin Head to Inishfree
The next morning’s sea mist changed the mood completely. There wasn’t a ripple on the water and we could hear but barely see a boat heading out for the day. Again we took a decision to break the day’s walk by possibly waking up the local taxi driver at 9AM on a Friday morning, but coffee and chocolate brioche in Malin town was the start we needed.
Over the Malin bridge then on the back roads to the beach at Culdaff, the weather didn’t lift much. The OS map we were carrying didn’t actually show a bridge over the river at Culdaff but we were glad that it was indeed there.
Culdaff well deserves its blue flag status but none of the couple of families huddled behind wind breaks on the beach were brave enough to go in for a dip on this misty afternoon.
A couple of hours later we had already completed our planned walk for the day thanks to the taxi to Malin. The owners of the Inishfree B&B had sent me pictures of the twin rooms which I have included in the blog about planning the trip, so I was looking forward to this stay.
What I was not expecting was the lift to the really cozy Orchard Bar and a superb dinner there. A couple of pints later the cook even gave us a lift back! This trip seems all about exceeding our expectations.
Day 8 - Saturday 30th July. Inishfree to Malin
Turning off the main road from Gleneely to Malin all that could be heat were the Skylarks again. The temperature soon rose to 30C again but mercifully there was a slight breeze at times. As soon as the wind dropped the temperature seemed to climb and we were hoping that the extraordinary hot weather wasn’t going to make it hard going again.
Looking for some shade we even considered sitting under the road bridge but Tim found a perfect bank where the hedge gave us shelter from the sun. Is this really Ireland?
Keeping to the smaller and quieter old road with views to the Foyle estuary, the long walk down to Moville stretched in front of us. But as I have said before, Ireland is uphill and we had to climb up from the main road before we could start the descent into Moville.
Just as we were reaching the point where the road finally runs downhill again we were greeted by the owner of the Orchard Bar where we had our meal last night. Ireland surely is a small place.
The sea breeze stayed with us all the way down the hill to the Moville waterfront. We followed the coastal path around the point and could see some brave children in the sea up to their waist but still not brave enough to take the final dip. Despite the incredibly warm few days I’m sure that the arctic waters I remember as a child were every bit as cold.
The aptly named Moville Boutique Hostel is a gem. We had our own cosy room and the hostel seemed like a haphazard collection of cosy little nooks where you could so easily while away the hours on a rainy afternoon, but on this beautiful sunny evening we had our own covered veranda with small table and chairs to enjoy a glass of Orchard Thieves cider from the local shop, and even a TV to watch Portugal get kicked out of the FIFA football cup.
Day 9 - Sunday 1st July. Looking for my granny's cottage.
Sean from Explore North spent several evenings looking for the farmer who showed my mum and dad the cottage where my grandmother was born. I had emailed him the little information I had from the video my dad took 30 years ago. I only knew that my granny's madden name was Brookens (later changed to Brooks) and that the farmer was called Sharkey. Well, Sean went well above the call of duty and tracked down several Brookens families until he found James Sharkey who remembered well showing my parents to the cottage.
My grandmother's cottage in 1988
I was warned that the cottage no longer looked anything like the picture I had, but it was part of my history and it would be great to just be on the spot where my mum's family was from.
Sean drove us to James' farm where he showed me a letter that my mum had sent him, thanking him for showing them to the cottage, and lending them a copy of the 1911 census that showed Robert Brooks as the cottage owner. There was no doubt that Sean had found the right person.
We followed James Sharkey up the lanes, sitting on the side of the trike driven by his son, one of the small boys in my dad's video. Sean's minibus was immaculate in and out, but he didn't hesitate in following James into a field. This was a first for his minibus he told us. After climbing over the ditch that my mum had mentioned in the video, there it was.
Thirty years later there was of course little left of the abandoned cottage, but walking around it was a poignant moment. It was hard to imagine that this was all that was left of a family home where my great-grandparents lived and 3 children grew up.
There was no sign of the 6 outbuildings listed in the 1911 census, nor the lane that used to run past the cottage. It was now just an obstacle in a planted field that would gradually be moved out of the way.
Sean and James
The kindness to strangers from the people of Donegal was humbling. Sean and James had shown me that I could be proud to know that my roots came from a part of the world where people live in a strong community. Helping each other, and strangers, is still a daily part of life and I am proud to share some connection with this land and its people.
James Sharkey and me, with the cottage in the background
This trip was again exceeding all expectations, but it was also too quickly coming to an end. With the GPS co-ordinates noted (55.143301, -7.221380) it is now easy to find the remains of the cottage online. Bing Maps has an excellent aerial view of the cottage remains.
It was all too soon time to jump back into the minibus and head towards our final stop in Derry, and a tour of the old city walls.
Derry to Home. Stepping back through the wardrobe from Narnia
Arriving into the hustle and bustle of city after a week of back roads and the most friendly people you could ever hope to meet, was like going back through the wardrobe from Narnia back to normal life. It was just one week, and yet it felt an awful lot longer. We had journeyed from the deep blue seas on the west coast, to the very top of Ireland, then down through history in the fields near Quigley's Point to a city that has seen more than it's fair share of turmoil over the centuries.
Preparing for the July 12 bonefires
A city divided over the centuries by injustice, oppression, intolerance and hatred Derry has finally risen above its troubled history. The symbols and marches that once divided communities are turning into cultural events.
The Troubles are now part of a history that the kids and younger population learn about in school.
Murals still show the strength and passion for a just society, and Derry is now united in pride in achieving the status of European City of Culture in 2013.
This journey has been full of surprises, and one really unexpected one was leaning about Roaring Meg, a very loud canon on the walls of Derry. I'm still really not sure why our local city council back home in Stevenage should name a shopping centre Roaring Meg, but the is another connection to look into some other time.
sláinte mhaith
Thanks to all those that made this journey a memory that will stay with us for the rest of our lives.
