Day 14
2 pm
Christoff (the partner/husband) came in with an espresso and we talked for a bit. I realised I was quite tired and announced I was going to bed. I looked at the watch and it was only 9 pm! But since I had cut our conversation off like that, I thought I really did have to go to bed. No worries. I thought I would wake early and go for a ride before mass or work.
I woke at 11 am! I couldn’t believe it. I am really sleeping too much. I think I am dehydrating myself, which is adding to the tiredness.
The wind and rain last night were incredible. I am really, really glad that I wasn’t out there in a tent. Amazing. I don’t know how people used to live in places like this with mud huts and thatched rooves.
It was (and is) raining outside. Not torrential rain, but quite hard. I had toast (with the honey) and used up most of the fruit loaf (and all of the butter). I saw Maire’s car leave just as I woke, so I assumed she was going to mass.
After breakfast I decided to go on that ride around Malin Head. A look at the map suggested it was 8 km. I decided to leave the raincoat behind and wear just the Kathmandu with the rainproof (ie. the nylon) lining on the outside. It worked! My shirt was dry except for a bit at the back where water had gotten down the neck. So, except for the hood, the Kathmandu is much better than the raincoat.
Did I mention that when I arrived here yesterday, the outside of the Kathmandu was wet, as was the inside of the raincoat, even though it hadn’t been raining. So the Kathmandu definitely breathes and the raincoat definitely doesn’t.
Any way, the wind was down most of the time but the heaviness of the rain never let up. The road was 10 km around and was wonderful.
Gone was the green that the rest of Donegal is made from. The hills and valleys were all the windswept brown that looked much like the hills from southeast New South Wales. I didn’t see any trees - or shrubs, for that matter - just outcrops of rock. The road went up to Banba’s Crown, an old English fort (WW I age) and the most northerly point of Inishowen and the island of Ireland.
I have seen my first tourists! Unfortunately they were a family of Americans driving around in a rented car. The girl in the back kept giving me the eyes and I saw the number plate was from Cork, so I said ‘g’day’ at one of the viewing points when she got out, but then I realised they were Yanks, so I hastened on.
My impression of Bamba’s Crown? Cold and wet. My first view of the Atlantic Ocean. No photos as I didn’t have my bag with me, and it was too wet anyway. The shoreline at the head was a sheer cliff, and the waves were crashing a long way below. The wind was so strong, it forced the spray up the cliff side (30 m) and over the top, to sting my cheeks.
Now I am dry, in the hostel and happy, though being trapped indoors is a bit of a problem. Maybe another tourist will come! Maire said she gets a tourist every day or so.
I was preparing myself to leave today as there is no work to be done (it’s too wet) so I asked her how much would all of this cost (as she had asked if I wanted to stay tomorrow night as well). She said ‘nothing!’ Fantastic! She said she would find something for me to do tomorrow and after work she would drive me to her bog and get that tape from her school at Carn.
It is now 2 pm. I will spend the rest of the day doing nothing. There is a bit of tourist literature here, but apart from that I will stare at the rain. There is some rice here, so I can cook that and have the rest of the sausages, some eggs and the rest of the bread for dinner. There is a Yahtzee game here! Hours of fun for the lonely backpacker.
I have made a bit of a plan. I will stay here tonight and Monday night (which will mark the halfway point in my travelling). From here I will ride - in a day - to Whitecastle again (assuming the Doherty’s are home and are willing to put me up for the evening). The next day I will ride to Derry, find the bus station and catch a bus to Portstewart to stay with Alex’s parents for a day or two. That is where my plan ends. I guess that is when I’ll make my way to Dublin. At some point I’ll have to buy a road map for all of Ireland. I would love to keep using the Ordnance Survey maps that I have been using, but there must be about twenty maps covering the area between here and Dublin. The OS maps show the contour markings as well as everything else.
Oh well ... bring on the Yahtzee!
2:30 pm
The rain hasn’t stopped. It hasn’t eased. Portstewart to Slane is about 210 km. I could do that. With a backpack. I would love to see Slane Castle (where The Unforgettable Fire was recorded). Also, near Slane is the Valley of the Boyne.
6 pm
Has it? Could it have? My God! It has! The rain has stopped! Wow! Now I am hungry and look forward to a sumptuous feast of rice, egg and sausages. The bread and bananas have all gone and I have no store to spend my daily £4 at; it is closed - today being Sunday.
I have found a Ben Elton book, so the Yahtzee is packed away.
9 pm
I went to the phone box on the bike to ring Madelene, but my plea for a reverse charged call was rejected - which means she wasn’t there (I hope) so I rode up the road to the pub.
Earlier today Maire had warned that the shop I went to yesterday was only open one hour today (being Sunday) but then she said, as an afterthought, that the shop down the road is open.
I decided it was time to go ‘down the road’ and try to find this shop. I stopped in at the pub and found the shop inside! A loaf of ‘toasty’ bread from the company Pat The Baker, a tin of spaghetti, a packet of instant soup and some butter cost me £2.80.
The fire is still lit and I am warm, almost hot. I have to take off my socks!
The Kathmandu is damp, a little bit of water did get through, and it is taking quite a while for it to dry out. So I won’t do that again. I can’t afford to get it damp, if all I have is a cold tent at night in which to dry things out.
In future, I will keep wearing it with the black on the outside, so if I am wearing the raincoat, the fur won’t get wet.
Christoff just came in and gave me the portable espresso machine for the morning! What a guy! I can have toast and coffee for breakfast. Happy Brendon.
When I told him about my cycling today, and the wind at the cliffs, he said that what he liked to do during the summer, when there were lots of tourists around, was to plant his feet about half a foot away from the edge of the cliffs and lean out into the wind. He said it was ‘perfectly safe, actually’, as the wind would always keep him from falling over. Experiencing the wind today, I can agree with him, but I don’t think I would use the words ‘perfectly safe’ when describing how foolproof the stunt is.
Another song occurred to me today, while riding through that amazing wind. Chisel’s When The War Is Over;
‘How can I go home and not be blown away?’
takes on a whole new meaning.
Christoff (the partner/husband) came in with an espresso and we talked for a bit. I realised I was quite tired and announced I was going to bed. I looked at the watch and it was only 9 pm! But since I had cut our conversation off like that, I thought I really did have to go to bed. No worries. I thought I would wake early and go for a ride before mass or work.
I woke at 11 am! I couldn’t believe it. I am really sleeping too much. I think I am dehydrating myself, which is adding to the tiredness.
The wind and rain last night were incredible. I am really, really glad that I wasn’t out there in a tent. Amazing. I don’t know how people used to live in places like this with mud huts and thatched rooves.
It was (and is) raining outside. Not torrential rain, but quite hard. I had toast (with the honey) and used up most of the fruit loaf (and all of the butter). I saw Maire’s car leave just as I woke, so I assumed she was going to mass.
After breakfast I decided to go on that ride around Malin Head. A look at the map suggested it was 8 km. I decided to leave the raincoat behind and wear just the Kathmandu with the rainproof (ie. the nylon) lining on the outside. It worked! My shirt was dry except for a bit at the back where water had gotten down the neck. So, except for the hood, the Kathmandu is much better than the raincoat.
Did I mention that when I arrived here yesterday, the outside of the Kathmandu was wet, as was the inside of the raincoat, even though it hadn’t been raining. So the Kathmandu definitely breathes and the raincoat definitely doesn’t.
Any way, the wind was down most of the time but the heaviness of the rain never let up. The road was 10 km around and was wonderful.
Gone was the green that the rest of Donegal is made from. The hills and valleys were all the windswept brown that looked much like the hills from southeast New South Wales. I didn’t see any trees - or shrubs, for that matter - just outcrops of rock. The road went up to Banba’s Crown, an old English fort (WW I age) and the most northerly point of Inishowen and the island of Ireland.
I have seen my first tourists! Unfortunately they were a family of Americans driving around in a rented car. The girl in the back kept giving me the eyes and I saw the number plate was from Cork, so I said ‘g’day’ at one of the viewing points when she got out, but then I realised they were Yanks, so I hastened on.
My impression of Bamba’s Crown? Cold and wet. My first view of the Atlantic Ocean. No photos as I didn’t have my bag with me, and it was too wet anyway. The shoreline at the head was a sheer cliff, and the waves were crashing a long way below. The wind was so strong, it forced the spray up the cliff side (30 m) and over the top, to sting my cheeks.
Now I am dry, in the hostel and happy, though being trapped indoors is a bit of a problem. Maybe another tourist will come! Maire said she gets a tourist every day or so.
I was preparing myself to leave today as there is no work to be done (it’s too wet) so I asked her how much would all of this cost (as she had asked if I wanted to stay tomorrow night as well). She said ‘nothing!’ Fantastic! She said she would find something for me to do tomorrow and after work she would drive me to her bog and get that tape from her school at Carn.
It is now 2 pm. I will spend the rest of the day doing nothing. There is a bit of tourist literature here, but apart from that I will stare at the rain. There is some rice here, so I can cook that and have the rest of the sausages, some eggs and the rest of the bread for dinner. There is a Yahtzee game here! Hours of fun for the lonely backpacker.
I have made a bit of a plan. I will stay here tonight and Monday night (which will mark the halfway point in my travelling). From here I will ride - in a day - to Whitecastle again (assuming the Doherty’s are home and are willing to put me up for the evening). The next day I will ride to Derry, find the bus station and catch a bus to Portstewart to stay with Alex’s parents for a day or two. That is where my plan ends. I guess that is when I’ll make my way to Dublin. At some point I’ll have to buy a road map for all of Ireland. I would love to keep using the Ordnance Survey maps that I have been using, but there must be about twenty maps covering the area between here and Dublin. The OS maps show the contour markings as well as everything else.
Oh well ... bring on the Yahtzee!
2:30 pm
The rain hasn’t stopped. It hasn’t eased. Portstewart to Slane is about 210 km. I could do that. With a backpack. I would love to see Slane Castle (where The Unforgettable Fire was recorded). Also, near Slane is the Valley of the Boyne.
6 pm
Has it? Could it have? My God! It has! The rain has stopped! Wow! Now I am hungry and look forward to a sumptuous feast of rice, egg and sausages. The bread and bananas have all gone and I have no store to spend my daily £4 at; it is closed - today being Sunday.
I have found a Ben Elton book, so the Yahtzee is packed away.
9 pm
I went to the phone box on the bike to ring Madelene, but my plea for a reverse charged call was rejected - which means she wasn’t there (I hope) so I rode up the road to the pub.
Earlier today Maire had warned that the shop I went to yesterday was only open one hour today (being Sunday) but then she said, as an afterthought, that the shop down the road is open.
I decided it was time to go ‘down the road’ and try to find this shop. I stopped in at the pub and found the shop inside! A loaf of ‘toasty’ bread from the company Pat The Baker, a tin of spaghetti, a packet of instant soup and some butter cost me £2.80.
The fire is still lit and I am warm, almost hot. I have to take off my socks!
The Kathmandu is damp, a little bit of water did get through, and it is taking quite a while for it to dry out. So I won’t do that again. I can’t afford to get it damp, if all I have is a cold tent at night in which to dry things out.
In future, I will keep wearing it with the black on the outside, so if I am wearing the raincoat, the fur won’t get wet.
Christoff just came in and gave me the portable espresso machine for the morning! What a guy! I can have toast and coffee for breakfast. Happy Brendon.
When I told him about my cycling today, and the wind at the cliffs, he said that what he liked to do during the summer, when there were lots of tourists around, was to plant his feet about half a foot away from the edge of the cliffs and lean out into the wind. He said it was ‘perfectly safe, actually’, as the wind would always keep him from falling over. Experiencing the wind today, I can agree with him, but I don’t think I would use the words ‘perfectly safe’ when describing how foolproof the stunt is.
Another song occurred to me today, while riding through that amazing wind. Chisel’s When The War Is Over;
‘How can I go home and not be blown away?’
takes on a whole new meaning.
posted by Bren Carlill @ 6:47 AM
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