June 8 - Ballymoney to Letterkenny

In the morning breakfast was a wonderful panoply of offerings.. too many to take advantage of.  I had filled out a breakfast order sheet the night before, including when I wanted it.  Many things were local and organic.  There were the usual cereals and yogurts out on the side table as the initial offering.  I ordered a bowl of fresh fruit, veggie sausages, eggs, tomatoes, wonderful buttery mushrooms, potato pancake, baked beans and hot chockie.  Too much.. couldn’t finish.  But it kept me going till late afternoon.  The springer spaniel was happy for some attention.  I got some insights on my day’s adventures and directions from my hostess, and headed off.


Based on the route taken to get to Ballymoney, I innovated a slightly different route than what I’d planned, paralleling the coastal route further inland to backtrack slightly to see Dunluce castle on the coast (Dun is like “fort” in Gaelic), west of the Giant’s Causeway.  It was already warm enough to start off the day in shorts and T shirt, bright blue sky again, but as I neared the coast, I noticed this strange cloud hanging along the coast, and as I approached I realized it was thick fog.  It was just in a narrow band and short extent.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  This was going to be a game changer insofar as my route and timings were concerned.     The castle is medieval ruins, and if it had been a wee less foggy, might have done better photographically.


I hung around a bit longer than I would have wanted, waiting for the fog to lift.  While I checked out the gift shop, it did lift a little, and talked with someone from California who told me about the concert that was being set up for that evening immediately adjacent to the castle property, in a field.  It was Van Morrison, supposedly touring to raise money for a divorce settlement.  So That’s why they were playing his music at the gift shop.  I could have gotten a ticket for 100 pounds, but passed, as there was no way I was going to navigate all the way to Letterkenny in the dark after this concert.  I snapped some foggy pix and left.  I passed by the concert site, the usual tall structure, all the lorries, and such just off the road.  People probably heard the concert for miles. 

I took the coast road for a little while, going through Portstewart, a nice little beach town, but then, I went purposely towards Derry, which England renamed Londonderry at one point (this is still a bone of contention).  Good thing I went straight there as it gave me lots of time there.  I found a parking garage right near the “i” tourist info and in a big shopping mall where I later got some great deals on socks (like 5 prs hiking socks for 2.50 pounds (for the set!), and 5 pr thin socklets for similar price).

I’d really wanted to take a walking tour of Derry, but I got to the spot where the 2 pm walking tour of the City’s walls (the last one of the day) about 5 minutes after they left.  But the folks trying to get me on the hop on hop off bus gave up and called the walking tour guide, took my money, and gave me directions up the hill so I could catch up.  That was nice of them!  I’ve been studying the northern Irish dialect.  A couple of things I keep hearing is our short “i” is pronounced as a short “e”; our O as in go, is goo, and the dipthong ow is pronounced ah-ee.   Nah-ee, goo up the beg hell and you’ll see them.  I’m . sure there are other fine points, and I’ll be listening for them.  The walking tour was a good deal.  This is one of the few places where there is an original wall around the city.  We walked most of it.  the walls are completely around the inner part of town, there were some very old churches and a cathedral, but for the life of me, I just can’t seem to follow all the history.

  Just like in Belfast, the locals seem to be all about “the Troubles”, and the Catholics and Protestants (Republicans/IRA and Loyalists to the English crown, respectively).

Even their big saint, Columba became Christian through some unknown means and started preaching it in Ireland, then later in Scotland; his church there in Derry is claimed by both sects.  Somehow there is no talk of Saint Patrick’s role in bringing Christianity to Ireland.  At the southern end of the wall is a viewpoint of the valley where the Catholics have historically lived.  It is cheek by jowl row housing a few stories high, not much in the way of parks or trees, with their Catholic church.

Differences in educational level between Catholics and Protestants were substantial.  We were shown where even a few months ago Catholics lobbed some petrol bombs up into the Protestant housing.   The way it’s described, it’s very much like the apartheid in South Africa and the black/white discrimination / civil rights fights in the US.  Catholics couldn’t vote unless they owned land. 

 The beautiful Guild Hall was bombed twice in 1972, and the guy they locked up for 15 years for doing / leading(?) the effort, is now a councillor, working inside.  They’ve rebuilt it, and it looks like it’s a few hundred years old (Neo gothic, it’s called).  Also, on this day there were celebrations of all sorts going on.  Had I known, I might have stayed in Derry overnight for the fireworks, but then again, the accommodation might have been subpar like in Belfast.  The celebration was of St. Columba going to Scotland to preach Christianity.  This was around 538 AD I think.

We ended the tour near the Peace Bridge, which was loaded with people, and I had no desire to go on.  But I watched from back of the Guild Hall, where I got a San Pelegrino orange, a sandwich, wrapped to go with paper and a string, and brownie, and watched as a couple of guys involved  in the celebrations, dressed in full length black robes and hoods, with hoops to hold the robes out in circular fashion, with long parchment in front, message probably in Gaelic, moving about the crowds on concealed Segways!  Oh, and also concealed must have been an ipod and battery amp since there was really deep creepy “music” coming out of it as well.

I spent another hour or so cruising the town on foot, going into small shops and the big shopping mall, and as my eyes tend to do, I laid eyes on this nice chocolate store:  Thorntons.  I wasn’t aware that this is a UK chain,and one of the best in the UK, but bought a couple of little bags of dark chocolate covered mint filling, and found it better than what I’ve had in the US.  They put in a certain little crunch that makes it even better! 

I had a couple of ways to get from Derry to Letterkenny, back in the Republic of Ireland, so I chose going up the river Foyle for a while.  But first, spent a little time in a lovely park along the river.  I’d been advised to wait on refilling the diesel tank until returning to Ireland, since it’s cheaper there.  This was true, though hard to calculate since Northern Ireland was in Pounds Sterling, and Ireland, Euros.  The diesel was cheaper than petrol in Ireland, that’s for sure (not always the case in Northern Ireland).

Though not a large town by many standards, Letterkenny is the largest in County Donegal.   Without realizing it, and not seeing enough signs (there were roundabouts lacking complete signage), I missed the turn to the N56 and cruised right through town.  That was ok, I’m typically good at realizing when I’m going wrong.  In town I’d passed a bar called the Cavern, and it even seemed to have the same lettering font as the one in Liverpool, so I thought I’d check it out.  Free parking across the street!

 But looking inside, it was largely empty, and not inviting, so I went next door to the Yellow Pepper.  Anything with that kind of name is inviting as far as I’m concerned.  The food was Great!  And yes, they had some vegetarian dishes.  Finally got on the N56 heading north out of town and recognized the turn into the Killerin House B&B as I’d done this maneuver on Street View of Map Google.

 

A word about driving in Ireland:  By the time I got to Letterkenny, I was getting better and more confident at roundabouts, speeding through the Gaelic to the English, always checking right first and remembering from mistakes.  Even the tiniest of roundabouts, those that you can drive over, change who has right of way.  It may seem as if you are on a main road going straight, but if there is a tiny roundabout at an intersection (which doesn’t even cause you to go around anything), the right of way is to the right.  Nearly smacked one coming in from the right as I tooled along a long straight road towards Ballymoney.  I also need to add a note to my steering wheel for the mornings.  Drive on the left.  It’s like I have to reset my habits on this every day.  Coming out of my B&B outside Letterkenny the next morning, there were no cars at all on a multi-lane road.  I reverted to old habits until I came face to face with one car, whose driver had the most incredulous look!  Ouch!