The Republic of Ireland

After leaving Derry, we slipped across a boarder that isn't there. If the mobile phone hadn't informed us, we wouldn't have known.

To make the most of this unexpectedly sunny day, we drove into a nature reserve, where my human could ride the bike around a lake, and then we chilled in the sun for the rest of the afternoon. Although it's a protected area, overnighting isn't prohibited, and so we fell asleep to nothing but silence in this very peaceful place.

We drove on to Letterkenny. The highlight there was the lady running the little town museum. She had spent half a year in Garmisch-Partenkirchen when she was 17. So, about 50 years ago. Her German was, understandably, a bit rusty.

After a quick look around an abandoned castle and it's garden, we went to see Roger, who lives with his girlfriend Caroline (Cal) in a very cute little cottage in the middle of beautiful nowhere.
They have 5 cats and 3 horses, as well as a never ending supply of good cheer and happiness. Food and beer also, not to forget!

A couple of friends of Cals had also just arrived, and so we got to know each other over a few brews and a delicious dinner.

My human hadn't seen Roger for some 7 years, since they sailed together in Australia. They had stayed in touch rather sporadically over the years, but still, she had the feeling as if they had parted ways only a few months ago.

They all went on a sea kayaking trip and then spent a long, thirsty night in a local pub, semi-listening to some Irish live music. And since Dawn and Dave are also travelling in a van, and Cal and Roger own one (two, actually) as well, we simply all slept in the parking lot, so no one had to drive home.

Dawn and Dave left the next morning to catch a ferry to Scotland and after some recuperation time, the rest of them went on a little hiking trip up a small mountain. For a change, there even was a view!

Cal and Roger

We got home in time to watch the women's final between England and Germany. Well, only one person was really interested at all, let's be honest here. If only Popp could have played... But hey, England deserved it. And to win the final in front of a home crowd, who could begrudge them their success?

In the evening they went out on Rogers boat, launching from the most picturesque little harbor. And how my human had missed being on a boat. I guess she only realized when they were out there and she "yipiiiiieeeed" with joy.

All went well for about half an hour, when the motor suddenly started playing up. They managed to maneuver to the closest inhabited island, where, with the help of a friendly local, Roger got it to run again. They made it back to the mainland, but just. The moment they got to the jetty, the motor cut out.

Since time is starting to get short, we left the next day to get on with the rest of the country.
But not without feeling very thankfull and happy to have caught up with "old" friends and made some new ones. Thanks for a great time, guys!

We were relatively lucky with the weather over the weekend, but this was bound to change again. As we were leaving, it was bucketing down and didn't really stop for any mentionable stretch of time for the next couple of days.

Nevertheless, my human took the hike out to Sliabh Liag, with 600m some of the highest cliffs in Europe. And although it was wet and foggy, the scenery was worth the effort and the wet clothes.

They had a brief dry spell in Killybegs, Ireland's largest fishing port. And that's almost all there is to the town, the harbor. By the time the got to Donegal, the largest "city" in the area, it was back to wet and windy. So what is there to do? Exactly! Find a pub with some dancing and live music to spend the evening.

Killybegs

A couple of actual Irish dancers trying to teach some very not-dancers

Over the next few days, we made our way down south, bagging some mountains on the way. Benbulbin, if you can see it, looks really beautiful. Well, guess what? It was a no show. Which, of course, doesn't mean you can't climb it. And if she hadn't slipped twice in the mud on the way down, all would have been good. Next stop, laundromat.

Just imagine there being a mountain

Oh, there is some of it

The summit. The terrain shown here is typical for this mountain.

It got a bit better. As we were leaving...

Knocknarea, Croagh Patrick and Bengoria followed. All are very popular hills and with it being the weekend and reasonable weather, you can imagine the crowds.

Knocknarea; look closely so you can see this at the top:

Queen Maeve is supposedly burried in this tomb, standing upright, with a sword in her hand

All you need to know about her

Carrowmore Megalithic Cemetery, some 3500 year old passage ways and tombs

Croagh Patrick, Ireland's holy mountain; St. Patrick fasted up here for 40 days in 441 AD

Rules for your pilgrimage. And if you are serious, you do it barefoot ( my human saw 3 serious people!)

Yeah, well, thanks, Patrick

We also passed through Ballina, the salmon fishing capital of the country, Sligo and Westport, which is said to be the best town to live in in Ireland. Not sure about that, but it sure is a pretty little town.

Ballina with it's lonesome salmon fisher (the black dot standing in the river towards the right)

Sligo

Sligo's Dominican Friary from the mid 13th Century

Westport

They seem to like superlatives here, though. The Great Western Greenway is a 45km cycle route starting here and running out to Achill Island. According to the New York times, it's one of the top three cycle routes, wait for it, in the world! Now, I don't know much about cycling, that much is true, but it seems a bit overdoing to me. Nice enough it was, my human said, but not THAT spectacular. And she saw it in both directions, of course, since she had to get back to me.

Almost dry, almost all the time

Very convenient

After those 90km she went right to the swimming pool which was conveniently located right next to our parking spot in Westport, with sauna and steam room, the whole shebang. And here she learned that you have to wear a swimming cap in every pool in Ireland. They conveniently sell them at the entrance.

We arrived in Clifden on a Saturday afternoon. After a walk around town, in glorious sunshine, with ice cream (rather expensive in Ireland), my human parked herself on a bench outside a pub. A 70-something year-old DJ was turning the tables on the little terrace. With the sun in her face, a cold beer in her hand, she listened to the music, smiling as the guy cut off pretty much every single song before it was over and announcing Johnny Cash only to then play the Dixie Chicks.