Crossing the Border to N. Ireland

Donegal. The county is widely esteemed for it’s rugged beauty and is often referred to as the highlands of Ireland, you can see why we made our way here. Donegal Town. I don’t think it is know for anything accept it’s shared name with the wider county. I’m being harsh on this poor little place but I have reason, believe me. The heavens knew when we would arrive and so decided to open up with rain and overall dismal weather. After a quick bite to eat in a coffee shop we trudged through the streets for a little over a mile to the hostel which I wouldn’t necessarily call central. We got there and met Linda, the proprietor who was absolutely lovely, welcoming and friendly. However, once checked in we really had no idea what to do. We couldn’t go farther afield, it was too late in the day, it was still raining and we didn’t fancy a walk back into the town, so we sat in the living room area. By this time I was thoroughly spent. The majority of my time in Ireland thus far had been spent in public transport, of which I am not a fan, and the last thing I wanted to do was just sit in a strange, though nice, sitting room. This is when I got hit with a wave of homesickness but not for the home you’re probably imagining. No, I became homesick for York, my room and most of all my friends. I spend so much time with my flatmates Ellen and Martin that to be suddenly uprooted from their almost constant companionship was rather shocking to my system. I think it hit me so hard because we have this month long separation and then I only have two more months with them before I leave and then who knows when we’ll meet again. It’s a scary thought. When I left home it wasn’t so hard because that’s what it is, home. It’s where I know I’ll always be coming back, there is no question of my returning there, it is a given. But here, with these people, it’s not the same. This is a stolen season, one that I will never return to in the same way but will hopefully be able to visit parts of, like the friends I’ve made and the places where I’ve had so many memories. So here I was sitting with Anne, who is one of my greatest friends but also in that home category that I take for granted as always available to me for the future, and looking out at the dismal sky with it’s dark clouds wishing I could return to York. End of digression. After a while of staring into space, I returned to the present and joined Anne in the puzzle she was working on while Linda started a peat fire which was warming to the body and soul, and soon enough we were out on the streets again looking for food. Sometime in the afternoon we decided that maybe Donegal was not the best place for us to stick around, especially in the current weather and with very few buses running in the off season we decided to move on the next day.

Donegal Castle, Co. Donegal, Ireland

In the morning before we left we managed to be somewhat touristic and saw the castle, which though rather small had some nice displays and part of the tower house had been restored to its medieval grandness. Picked up some ridiculously tacky Irish souvenirs, essentially the Irish souvenir industry focuses all of it’s energy in putting sheep on anything and everything. We waved goodbye to Donegal and made our way via bus to Derry in Northern Ireland. This was the most spontaneous part of the trip for we had no idea what Derry had to offer, it hadn’t even been on our minds when we planned our short tour. We made our way to the tourist office where we obtained a map and the location of two hostels. The choice was obvious and it wasn’t long before we were standing on the doorstep of Paddy’s Palace where we found welcoming cheap beds (only £12 a night) that included breakfast AKA toast and tea in the morning. Following the map we walked towards the city centre in search of some light refreshment. Like York, Derry is encompassed by city walls. However, these walls don’t hold stories of medieval sieges or Viking battles but more modern tales of violence mostly focused around the Troubles that plagued Northern Ireland for the past half century. Derry is roughly the same size as Chico and is the second largest city in Northern Ireland and the fourth largest city on the island of Ireland which gives you a bit of perspective in the population and geography of this island. While walking the city walls we were educated by the many information boards that really shed light onto what this small city has seen. We popped into St. Colomba’s church on our way back to our neck of the woods. Taking advantage of the “city life,” we decided to have a go at the cinema and saw Marley & Me. I didn’t really know what it was about at all, I just knew Jennifer Aniston and Owen Wilson were starring in it so I figured it would be along the lines of other humorous chick flicks. I don’t think I’ve cried so hard during a movie since Titanic and that was when I was nine. For the most part it was just emotional for me as the end hit home a little too much, I won’t say anything for those of you who haven’t seen it though. On a lighter note we spent the rest of the evening at a proper pub where the only other patrons were a scattering of old men drinking Irish ale, now that’s what I call a pub!
St. Colomba's Cathedral, Londonderry, N. Ireland

The next morning found us on a train to Coleraine where we then caught a bus onto Ballintoy, a small village on the Northern coast near Giant’s Causeway.