Malin Head

Malin Head Derelicts

On Sunday we set out for Malin Head. The middle of January is not the best time to see the area I am sure; the land looks desolate and barren with a biting wind whipping in from the sea. Various clusters of buildings dot the landscape some bristling with antennae and radio masts behind enormous chain-link fences. When the wind quietens a hush descends with no noise, no movement, an absence of life. This seems a wild, lonely place. Hopefully this is only a winter perspective; sensible folks are wrapped up warm huddled around a crackling fire with homely smells and family chatter.

Looking South-East from Malin Head

All roads lead up to Malin Head itself; a derelict outpost with vacant concrete shrouded shells including what seems to be the remains of a Norman tower house. The monitoring station no doubt has been removed now to a more sheltered location below the head

This headland boasts it is the most northerly point on the Irish mainland and clearly an important strategic lookout post. As well as monitoring the sea route round the head, look-outs also have a commanding view back over the peninsula itself; perhaps it was always as treeless as it is now.

International Markers for Aircraft

On the most northern part, marked out in white stones is the word EIRE - and a few folk have spelled their own names too. I presume this was for the pilots during the war returning from patrolling the Atlantic; Ireland was neutral in the war and their airspace should not be entered by combatants. This was true for the flying-boat base as Castle Archdale on Lough Erne though there, a corridor over Ballyshannon was negotiated to give planes quick access to the Atlantic. I think there was another such base on Lough Foyle.

As we were heading back, we fancied a cup of tea. Not a cuppa could be found; everywhere was closed.

Inishowen

River Estuary

Saturday morning started late and slow with a terrific Irish breakfast. A bit of chilling with our Kindles, relaxing before the fire.

Eventually we persuaded ourselves to get up, get out and do something. We had heard there was nice wee bar on the other side of the peninsula at Culdaff that offered good lunches and might have a céilí this evening. Off we set.

Just round the corner, as it were, was the estuary of a small river. We were able to park and walk down to the shore.

The tide was out leaving huge sand flats on either side of the river that stretched for miles inland bordered by pretty high dunes. Clusters of houses and maybe even villages could be seen the distance. The scale was incredible! Above us the dark foreboding sky occasionally opened with stunning shafts of light reflecting of the wet sand and distant glass windows; the shafts of light picking out inconsequential locations. We shared the beach with quite a crowd of folk but they only appeared as specks: testing the water course of the river or fetching sticks for a dog or preparing for some local 10km marathon.

Big sea, west  towards Ballyliffin

In the distance the sea was crashing across the beach or flooming against rocky outcrops but it was so far away, the size of the waves seemed small and tame but the sound belied that, whirling towards us, carried on airborne surf tasting and smelling of the sea.

Later when we had explored enough at sea level, we drove up one of the headlands and were able to look down at the mouth of the estuary where the sea breakers could still be heard crashing on the shore or rocks. Even at this distance the violence of the waves could be heard with huge areas of the sea almost taking to the air in a fog of salt-water. The wind up here was even greater than at sea level where we had been sheltered by the dunes and the cliffs

Ballyliffin

The Tide is Out

We were looking for a weekend break as a getaway while we were covered at home so signed up to GroupOn and one of the offers that came up was a 2-night stay in Ballyliffin. For some reason - despite all our travels in the Kerryvan and even from when we lived near Omagh we had never been to Inishowen. Even worse was when our eldest was born, a work colleague took a photo of a memorial attached to an old school-house commemorating the legendary Niall of the Nine Hostages and I never visted the place to see it for real.

So off we headed from Donaghadee to Ballyliffin on a cold, blowy wintery January Friday.

The Strand Hotel was definitely warm and welcoming when we arrived and true to its name, it is situated more or less on the strand. For us a short walk down a lane though in the summer - when we suspected the place was at its best - there is maybe a short-cut through the hotel's rear garden.

Ballyliffin Beach

The strand is huge and quite typical for Donegal, wonderful clear water, huge beach backed by small dunes and the bay enclosed by a pair of promentories at either end. Not surprisingly, it was empty when we were there but its hard to imagine it ever getting unbearably busy given its size. Even on this cold, winter's day it was glorious to be there below the huge sky breathing in the ozone.

Back in the hotel and everyone was playing the "spot-the-groupon-guest" game; apart from those having a post-funeral sup. The village isn't much to talk about, 50-50 holiday homes and locals, one shop and petrol station, one pub and 5 hotels! Two of the hotels are huge so this must be a very popular resort come the summer-time. For us, the Guinness was good and the food not bad at all; this was shaping up to be a terrific weekend.