In the blink of an eye, we went from some of the hottest days of my life in France to some of the rainiest and windiest. That fine emerald isle remains air-conditioned no matter what heatwaves are barbecuing the rest of Europe. Thank you Atlantic ocean! I was glad for this change of pace at first, but 12 days of "summer" in Ireland can really rock your world. So this is the story of the first leg of our great Euro road trip: the washout!
I began by travelling with Camille and Émilie to Cherbourg to catch the overnight ferry to Dublin. Review of Cherbourg: mediocre industrial-port city. The ferry was far above my expectations though! We paid an arm and a leg for it (and that's without a car!) and it was more in the direction of cruise ship than transport. Everything brand new, clean, and relatively empty. Though we were wise and brought our own food: €20 euros for a crappy plate of pasta doesn't appeal to us.
20 hours later and we were in Dublin, an hour behind French time and riding on the wrong side of the road in a double-decker bus. We got some of the finest Lidl croissants, walked around the city a little, and caught an afternoon train heading north. Adam (my dear roommate from Östersund as you may recall!) and Frida (also an acquaintance from Erasmus) met us in Newry just over the border in the north. Per the Good Friday Agreement of 1998, there must be no border controls whatsoever between the north and south of Ireland. If there wasn't a line on the map you couldn't tell!
After a deceptively long hike through the hills, we left the Mournes for Belfast in the afternoon. We drove around the city, seeing the typical tourist sights: the peace walls. Even today, after nearly 30 years of peace in the north, there are still gates between Nationalist and Unionist neighborhoods which lock every night. The police stations are built like castles, the police cars are all armored Land Rovers, and the instant contrasts as you cross between the two sides are striking.
All of us were invited to the birthday party of Aoife, Adam's friend from school. Which was good craic as they say here! (think good fun, conversation, gossip, and entertainment) And the cherry on top, I tried Chinese food. Which is an entirely different animal than the same cuisine in America or on the continent. For £8.40 you get about 2.5 meals worth of noodle and grease, with prawn crackers if you order a lot! A culinary highlight of the trip. That night we slept at the Lundy-Glenn house, a fine Victorian place coincidentally located in the "Little America" district of Belfast. Overall a lovely introduction to the island, in a scant 48 hours!
Then we headed south, to Newgrange, a 5,000 year old megalithic tomb. Not knowing that it was reservations only, we saw the place from the car park. We make pretty poor tourists. But we did get to meet up with Riona for the afternoon, another friend from Östersund. (and the first of many reunions on this trip!) At night we locked in for a long drive south to County Waterford- for the first time Camille and I set up the tent in the dark, it was that late.
The view that we woke to was incredible: cliffs, waterfalls, green grass, and countless sheep! (or "white vermin" as some say, there's not much use for them) A big hike followed that short night, straight up a scree slope and onto the bogs. "Hill-walking", it's called, jumping from one lump of grass to another. And trying to delay the inevitable wet feet of course. Adam was really in his element here: we did a circuit along the edge of a spectacular cliff and took our lunch in the shelter of some rocks on a ridge. Rain came down in the afternoon, but with such wind you also dry out pretty quick. In summer, you can mess around up in the hills to some degree, but in winter it can get dangerous real quick with the way water and cold sneak into you up there. The old "chuck things in the back of the van" trick worked well for us here, and it was another long drive out to County Kerry that night.
Now it was my first time setting up the little green tent in the rain! It's a clever design though, where you first set up the waterproof exterior and then the (hopefully dry!) inside part. We camped at Cronins Yard, the jumping-off point for Carrauntoohil, Ireland's highest point. This was luxurious for us; an indoor kitchen and toilets for the first time in a few days. The place was originally a farm, but now something between a campsite and a hostel. The day was finished well, with a pint of Guinness at a pretty good (though rather touristy) pub in Killarney. If I recall anything from that town, it's the sheer number of Americans wandering about it. Once you start listening, you can't stop hearing 'em.
The last day of June was a quiet one for us, where we drove up to the Gap of Dunloe for some climbing. (which of course is only possible in dry weather- it had been a real washout up to this point!) It was a roadside crag, where we could park the van, step out, and see the base of the cliff. It was a little wet but we managed well enough! Other climbers must have sensed our presence: they arrived before too long in a van of their own and kept us company along with the many passing cars, horses, and hikers on their way up to the pass. A little scenic drive followed in the evening, over the pass and down into a series of valleys leading to Killarney National Park. The sun was out, so we stopped to cook dinner in a parking lot halfway back to the town. (I don't say much about our food because, well, there's not much to say! Instant mashed potatoes, vegetable soup, and cheese was on the menu tonight) Since we were in the neighborhood, we went back to the pubs in Killarney to play cards, yap, and listen to traditional Irish music- or just "trad". More of the same loud Americans from last night, but that certainly didn't dampen any spirits!
July began at 9:00AM sharp, when we set off to climb Carrauntoohil. 1000 meters (3300 feet) of climbing, pretty much straight up. The weather was... "atmospheric" as Adam says. There's no point in hiding from the rain, even with waterproof pants and boots it'll get to you. After a while you accept it and keep on walking! On our way we met some Canadians, and I traded them a €2 coin for a 5$ bill. (so they could pay for parking! I was very happy with this exchange rate) We summited via the "Heavenly Gates" route, snapped a few pictures, and threw up a little shelter to cook some lunch in. Camille and I had brought homemade granola bars from France and these were eaten up real quick. 10℃ (50℉) and blasting wind feels bloody cold! Then a long and sodden stumble past many sheep back to the Yard. 5 hours total, some very sore legs, and feet which were very happy to be out of socks.
That night was an interesting one- we drove a long ways again (theme of this trip eh!) up to County Clare near the Cliffs of Moher. Which are of course closed at night, but no matter, we had the more pressing issue of finding a camp spot. After a couple of false leads we settled on the car park of a megalithic tomb deep in The Burren. This is a vast karst landscape of shattered and terraced limestone where it's almost impossible to pitch a tent, regardless of rain and wind, which were also in abundance. It was time to deploy the sardine-can tactic: five people on a double bed in the back of that van! It worked, and we got some rest, but at what cost...
After a rather restless night the treat of the morning was an Irish breakfast from a supermarket deli: the breakfast roll, where a variety of sausages, eggs, hashbrowns, and beans are loaded onto a baguette and slathered in ketchup. Presented in a shining coat of foil and eaten immediately! Our European associates had the extra difficulty of understanding the workers at this place (myself too, especially at the party in Belfast, but it gets better the longer you associate with the locals!) but this was a lovely breakfast regardless. And fuel for a day of climbing: it was nice out, at last!
This was also our first opportunity in a while to dry out our stinking and soaked clothes from all these rainy days. Roadside crags are brilliant for this! So we climbed a few routes on sharp and pitted limestone, not even a hundred meters from the sea and with the Cliffs of Moher in the background. Pretty easy ones but hard on the hands- resting and napping in the sun was just amazing. Camille and Émilie don't have climbing shoes of their own so we share, hence the nap. In the evening we packed up shop for Galway City and the Lidl there. Though this is where one helluva side quest began:
We were about an hour north of Galway when Frida (who was driving at the time, it was cheapest to add her to the insurance instead of us passengers. Car insurance in the North of Ireland being insanely expensive as you can imagine) exclaimed that she'd left her beloved Doc Martins back at the crag in the Burren. These particular boots were seven years old and carrying an incalculable sentimental value. Well, I thought it was ridiculous at the time, considering it would be a six-hour detour, but we did it!
Against all odds nobody had stolen the boots, just placed them kindly on a rock next to the road. And this is the scene as we arrive just before midnight. All of us jumping for joy, thanking the good people of Ireland, and eating beans on toast and drinking chocolate milk. It may have been irrational, Adam and Frida may have had to drive through the night, but it was worth it a hundred times over.
Of course that's not the end either. The plan was to camp somewhere in County Donegal (the most desolate and isolated county of Ireland if you didn't know!) and Adam was intent on sticking to that. So incredibly, we were driven all the way there, arriving at half past four in the morning. I slept the whole way and I'm amazed we made it in one piece- there are very few people on Earth who would do things like this and our guide is one of them. So then I found myself setting up the tent on the margins of some trailhead as the sun rose, swatting midges and feeling irritable. We slept until noon!
That was about all we saw of Donegal, in the early afternoon we had our "breakfast" and drove over the border to Derry. The second city of the North and of Derry Girls fame. Like our first time in Belfast, we drove about looking at murals and monuments to the Troubles, and walked around the old city for a while. It's home to some impressive castle walls, (of English origin, likewise the name "Londonderry" was adopted to make the place sound more English) a big university where Adam's brother studies, and lots of tourists. We didn't do so much here, but well worth a stop regardless.
Belfast was our destination for the night once again, but first we stopped in Portrush at a chippy for some food. Beans and cheese on a baked potato, curry chips, mmmm. This country knows how to combat that cold and damp weather! We drove along the coast, past castles and cliffs, out to Fair Head, a giant sea cliff of 100 meters. (330 feet) In the perfect world we would've abseiled off of this, but of course it was spitting rain and blowing like a hurricane. So we looked out at the sea and reflected on this lovely trip, where we've come to love the rain, the sheep, the green fields, and the rolling hills.
All this rush to get back to Belfast was due to a MOT for the van, a mandatory inspection required for insurance and registration purposes. This was booked for July 4th at 4:00PM, and since Adam is ultimately going back to Sweden in the Caddy, it was now or never. So we had a chill day at his house, sleeping in, doing laundry, and watching movies. And buying a roof box for the car, in hopes of solving our storage problems in the back. As I suggested, there's more than enough space for a sixth passenger in there, but this fell on deaf ears.
By night we went out on the town in Belfast. Meaning a stop at the local Wetherspoons (explained at the end of this post) and then a four-hour session in Madden's, listening to trad music and chatting. The best pub in the city, says our terribly underpaid and overworked guide. A fitting way to end these weeks on the island!
For our final full day, we drove back to the Mournes, completing our great circle tour. We climbed at the old Tollymore quarry, sport routes for once! (sport climbing is where you clip in to a series of bolts as you climb up the route, though bolting natural rock in Ireland is forbidden) It was one of those days that seemingly melts away, and then it was sundown. We paid a visit to the current caretaker of the Tollymore grounds, Adam's old friend Johnny. This was a cultural experience. We were generously given tea, chocolates, homemade poitín, and talked about our travels and how we came to meet in Sweden. I really did get good at understanding that accent!
Our final night was spent at the family farm, and we took a lazy morning again before the drive south to Dublin for the ferry. In this case, cramming things into bags and wandering through the fields to kill time. Naturally, the climate took a warmer and drier turn the minute we left the place. It was a hectic, melancholy, but ultimately quiet drive in the van as we all said goodbye to this amazing country.
After reading your blog of your travels through Ireland, considering the rain and the cold, I would say you are all troopers! 😳💕🙏
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