From Coast to Coast

We are staying at a divey hostel just south of the famous Sandy Row region, lined with barbed wire and militant murals. We arrived here yesterday on our first train ride as the sleety and constant rain was completely unforgiving.From Gelncolmcille we rode through incredible mountainous landscapes, finally ascending down a deep verdant valley into the village of Ardara. We made a few stops there looking at wool sweaters and caps, the stuff of which this small region is famous for. After the challenging rides up and down hills, we decided to stay in the next village of Glenties. There we were able to find a guesthouse where we had a lazy picnic of microwave tika masala and other such convenient fodders in our room. Outside we were able to hang up our wet articles in the lacuna between rain. Our earliest morning departure the next day found us alone on the roads enjoying the fantastic Donegal landscape in peace. We rode through many lovely villages and came to the strange place named Letterkenny by noon. It was a Sunday and most places were closed with the exceptions of a hotel restaurant teaming with twenty-somethings drunk to the hilt, and a quiet panini bistro. The latter we found ourselves in for quite a while, trying to dodge the incremental rain. After our luxurious tea-sipping lunch, we mounted our stealthy steads again and headed the miles up into Derry. It was hard getting used to mileage after basing our days so much in kilometers up until then, and that day seemed to stretch on like no other. Londondery, otherwise known as the Walled City, or else, just Derry or (free) Derry depending on your standing was alive and bustling when we arrived. We tried several hotels and hostels, but found them all booked. The British pound has brought the numbers lower, but the exchange still haunts us. We did however find reason for some indulgences in the city, including a four-star hotel, a phone call home, and a pitcher of Pimm's cup.

The luxuries of our stay, and our meanderings around the city murals the next morning found us leaving Derry quite late. Our bikes seemed drugged in the slow miles to the north coast. It was nearing seven when we decided to stay in Portstewart. A lively host from Ontario gave us a cozy little accommodation and promised Susan lots of potato scones for breakfast. That evening's entertainment was a loony spectacle put on by some lads donned in wetsuits jumping off the cliffs into the bay's waters. We had a lovely stroll along the coast eating honeycomb ice cream.

Our next post will cover the rainy Giants Causeway and the Antrim Coast seen through foggy rain, interminable deluges and Belfast in the rain.