Dateline – Donegal, Ireland
And a second night in Donegal – which is nice as it means there was no need to pack and get the suitcase out the door at an early hour this morning and I had a very nice time sleeping in a bit. (Cue ‘Another Suitcase in Another Hall’). I did get up and get moving eventually, had my hotel breakfast buffet (middling quality) and walked back into the center of town to finish exploring. It didn’t take long. Donegal is not all that large. I was back at the hotel in plenty of time to board the bus for our day of exploring the Irish Highlands to the north and east of Donegal Bay. They’re part of the same geological formation that created both the Appalachians and the Scottish Highlands so I suppose I was connected to both my ancestors and my current domicile in some strange geologic way.
The roads in rural Ireland are narrow, rarely divided, and laid atop peat bogs and marshes so they tend to settle in unusual ways. This makes a drive along them, even in a small bus, something akin to an amusement park ride with strange sudden bumps, rapid turns and an occasional sudden drop off. Watching the scenery go by outside the windows was fine but any attempt at reading would likely lead to a bad case of motion sickness.
We skirted Donegal Bay, went through the fishing port of Killybegs (looking like every coastal town in Washington, Oregon and Alaska with a mix of commercial and pleasure fishing craft in the harbor) and then climbing up the side of the mountains to Slieve League, the tallest sea cliffs in Europe rising some 2000 feet from the ocean to the top of the peaks. It was a gorgeous view, if a bit chilly, shared mainly with the ever present sheep snacking away on the grasses and heather. Down the hill for an Irish Coffee (one of the few foods to contain all four essentials – alcohol, caffeine, sugar, and fat) and then cross country to the town of Ardara and a visit to the Triona factory and showroom where they continue to make traditional Donegal tweeds – complete with weaving demonstration. (I splurged and bought myself a new blazer in a rather becoming shade of blue). More Irish coffee. Down the street a bit to Nancy’s bar, a pub that’s been in the McHugh family for eight generations for dinner. (Guiness this time). Dinner entertainment was an energetic young fiddle player who’s winning awards for his traditional Irish music at the ripe old age of 16. He’s going places. Then back to the hotel. I am considering going back into town this evening, but I am an old fart and should probably call it an early evening and conserve energy.
I’m starting to gather ideas for the sermon I need to write on returning – ‘Moral injury, moral evil, and the American Health Care System’. It shouldn’t take me more than a couple of days. My traveling companions are all of a certain age so I’m pumping them for stories of their experiences so I can have some fresh anecdotes with which to spice up the finished project. I should also be working on Richard II, but that’s going to require deeper thought so I’ll probably leave that until after I get back, recover, and am back in usual form. I have two weeks between back to the grind date and first rehearsal.
Until tomorrow, sláinte…
Life, The Universe, and Everything 