Saturday, 4/19 (Around Donegal) Donegal County 
            

     

The day opens in blue, and the sun is out all day.  I am in desperate need of a laundromat, so I head downtown armed with two bags of rather ripe laundry.  They have no laundromat in Donegal, just a laundry.  I have no choice unless I want to completely avoid people.  I leave the laundry and wander the town, visiting the railroad museum, having coffee and scone at the bakery, and dropping in on the Donegal Craft Village.

The Craft Village is an attempt to preserve some of the County Donegal traditions and while most of the shops are closed I do spend about 20 minutes talking to Fionntan Gogarty, a batik artist.  He explains some of the Gaelic names the people have in the area, and while a few Dutch and German names can be occasionally found in Ireland, he points out that one finds primarily Irish names throughout the island.  It is a very insulated and non-diversified country.  Fionntan is also a biker, and he commiserates with me about biking Ireland's roads.  He says he's been to other European countries, and he's convinced that Ireland is the least biking-friendly country in the E.U.  He thinks the Irish drivers are thoughtless and perhaps reckless.  Not much consolation for me on these winding, narrow roads.  In the background I can hear Cajun music on the radio.  The music on Irish radio stations is odd.  If the music isn't from the 1960's or 70's, it's John Denver or Tom Jones - guys who have long since faded from the American airwaves.  I haven't heard much Irish music.

After hauling my laundry home, I get into some wonderfully clean clothes and take a bike ride around Lough Eske.  The road is quiet and hilly and quite beautiful.  The Blue Stack Mountains are to the north of the lake, and they do take on a blue hue when the shadows cover them.  I meet three lads on "biking holiday" from Northern Ireland, Derry, who speak in such a heavy accent that I keep asking them to repeat themselves.  They must think I am a deaf old goat.  They tell me, "We're gonna camp up the loin there.  Raight boy the big tree."  After a few more miles, I come to a scenic turn off, and I have some water and lay on top of a picnic table soaking up the warm sun.  I am protected from the cold northeast wind that has picked up during my trip around Eske.  The trip back is easier because of a tail wind and less difficult hills.  I am thankful for both.

Dinner is plaice and chips, or fried flounder and fries to an American.  My trip around Lough Eske totals 16 miles.  (389 miles)
    

Previous

Home

Next