It took until 11pm for the overnight car park to finally quieten down. As it was possibly the last of the excellent hot weather locals were arriving for a late swim after 9pm. I lazily got my act together setting off around 11am.
Anyone who whinges about the state of English Roads should not do the Wild Atlantic Way. OK there are relatively few potholes, but so many surfaced areas are bone shakingly rough. This is partly the surfacing, partly the quality of the road substrate that once would have been little more than cart tracks over soft peaty and rocky ground. Those vibrations setting everything in the van shaking will get to you. The two way roads can be very narrow out in the sticks. A PVC is OK but a coach built could well need to keep pulling over.
I followed the route round towards Malin Head, the northern point of Ireland. Malin Head is north of Northern Ireland, figure that one out. The road deteriorates into windy single track with limited passing points, but other vehicles seem a rarity. Eventually you emerge up a small lane to a parking area. No defined motorhome spaces, so you take your chances. There was a coach bay, but who would be mad enough to get one up there when there is nowhere for it to turn and the road was patently unsuited. There is a toilet block, and a coffee van (takes cards). No parking charges or apparent overnight restrictions but it would be exposed.
Yes more walking to various cliffside viewpoints on some uneven paths. The painted Eire stones are to warn WWII pilots they were over neutral territory with nearby huts manned by Irish soldiers as lookouts, together with a ruined Napoleonic era watchtower.
So now to resume the Wild Atlantic Way around the peninsula, wending my way eventually towards Letterkenny. The single track gets even more fun (or challenging). The Ducato's Comfortmatic gears definitely earned their keep. One mountain pass was called The Gap of Manmore and I'd suggest whilst not as long or high it has everything and more of the steepness and hairpins of the fabled Scottish Bealach Na Bach pass. It even gets a well near the top which the old cart drovers would have found essential.
It was almost 5pm by the time I got near Letterkenny. Traffic was horrendous with some sort of souped up car meet, that I now know coincides with a major car rally likely to close a lot of roads of the Wild Atlantic Way in Donegal over the weekend. I suspect I'll be making a detour in the next days and missing a big corner of the area.
In view of the time I managed to bypass Letterkenny and continued further round. My stopover is in Rathmullan, using a community Irish Football Club's field, overlooking the harbour. FLTs will use the harbour car park whilst €10 gets you a pleasant grass pitch and kudos from the locals. A chowder starter, steak burger and couple of Guinness at the Beachcomber bar (really need to prebook as at 6:30 I got the last squeezed in table), was very good leaving me uncomfortably stuffed. Back to the van just as the promised rain arrived.
Anyone who whinges about the state of English Roads should not do the Wild Atlantic Way. OK there are relatively few potholes, but so many surfaced areas are bone shakingly rough. This is partly the surfacing, partly the quality of the road substrate that once would have been little more than cart tracks over soft peaty and rocky ground. Those vibrations setting everything in the van shaking will get to you. The two way roads can be very narrow out in the sticks. A PVC is OK but a coach built could well need to keep pulling over.
I followed the route round towards Malin Head, the northern point of Ireland. Malin Head is north of Northern Ireland, figure that one out. The road deteriorates into windy single track with limited passing points, but other vehicles seem a rarity. Eventually you emerge up a small lane to a parking area. No defined motorhome spaces, so you take your chances. There was a coach bay, but who would be mad enough to get one up there when there is nowhere for it to turn and the road was patently unsuited. There is a toilet block, and a coffee van (takes cards). No parking charges or apparent overnight restrictions but it would be exposed.
Yes more walking to various cliffside viewpoints on some uneven paths. The painted Eire stones are to warn WWII pilots they were over neutral territory with nearby huts manned by Irish soldiers as lookouts, together with a ruined Napoleonic era watchtower.
So now to resume the Wild Atlantic Way around the peninsula, wending my way eventually towards Letterkenny. The single track gets even more fun (or challenging). The Ducato's Comfortmatic gears definitely earned their keep. One mountain pass was called The Gap of Manmore and I'd suggest whilst not as long or high it has everything and more of the steepness and hairpins of the fabled Scottish Bealach Na Bach pass. It even gets a well near the top which the old cart drovers would have found essential.
It was almost 5pm by the time I got near Letterkenny. Traffic was horrendous with some sort of souped up car meet, that I now know coincides with a major car rally likely to close a lot of roads of the Wild Atlantic Way in Donegal over the weekend. I suspect I'll be making a detour in the next days and missing a big corner of the area.
In view of the time I managed to bypass Letterkenny and continued further round. My stopover is in Rathmullan, using a community Irish Football Club's field, overlooking the harbour. FLTs will use the harbour car park whilst €10 gets you a pleasant grass pitch and kudos from the locals. A chowder starter, steak burger and couple of Guinness at the Beachcomber bar (really need to prebook as at 6:30 I got the last squeezed in table), was very good leaving me uncomfortably stuffed. Back to the van just as the promised rain arrived.
