We set out from Galway first thing in the morning. Pops at the B & B was a bit slow bringing the breakfast, but no rush for us after only a few hours of dizzying sleep the night before. The weather was not in our favor this day, so we made the best of it by driving over 250 kilometers from Galway to Derry.
The first thing that sticks in my mind is the endless fields of green with stone fences zig-zagging across the countryside. Though there may have been no sun, Ireland is still breathtaking, even behind the grey clouds. Endless sloping hills dotted with white sheep with their backs painted different colors. Dan and I figured that this must be a way of marking the ownership of the livestock, but it seems strange because nearly all the sheep had either a red or a blue streak down their spine.
As the drive began to set in, and we became a bit restless, we decided to stop at a town called Sligo in County Mayo for a quick bite to eat. Feeling a bit hung-over still, this pit stop was brilliant. We found an excellent bistro, which I am blanking on the name, but the food was amazing. I got the cajun chicken bread bowl and Dan got rashers with cabbage. We both ended up enjoying each others more than our own. The steamed cabbage was so fresh and tasty, it reminded me of the steamed veggies I get at the local farmers market in south Georgia.
The best part of the drive for me was seeing the old Protestant church built by John Yeats in 1811. Many of you may be more familiar with his son, William Butler Yeats, the famous Irish poet. Though the church was simple and was nothing more than a dozen or so wooden pews with a modest pulpit at the front of the arch way. The sight to see here was obviously the grave stone of W.B. Yeats. I imagined they have replaced the headstone a few times over the years, because the graves next to Yeats, including his wife´s, were completely eroded away with moss growing in the tine porous holes. I´m not sure why but I had this extreme sensation of peacefulness walking around the cemetery. It may have been the amazing countryside surroundings or the enormous trees with drooping limbs overhead, but this was not a creepy cemetery by any means. It was an absolute serene graveyard, fit for a poet like Yeats.
Once we had left County Mayo, we headed north for Donegal. I don´t remember exactly why I wanted to stop here, maybe cause I knew this was the place to get the traditional Irish tweed caps. Unfortunately, we got to town a bit late and all the shops were closing and the castle we planned on scaling (the second item on our bucket list) had just closed its gates as well. So we pushed on to Derry, but before we made it to town, we stopped briefly to take in this amazing beach, where the local surfers were literally running down the road to catch the last few breaks of the day.
Driving into Derry was surprisingly uneventful. We were planning some border check or even a few guards by the side of the road, but once we crossed the River Foyle, the only difference we noticed were the orange UK license plates which lacked the EU emblem, the road signs were no longer written in Gaelic and the posted speeds were now in miles per hour. We made it safely to Derry and found our hotel without any trouble, and after a quick dip in the hot tub to relax our tense muscles from the 5+ hour drive, we walked around the famed Derry city walls, flanked by cannons aimed directly at the Irish catholic communities on the outskirts of the city.
More on the walk around Derry tomorrow.
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