Gypsy Queen

A Celtic mystic once told me that I was a Gypsy Queen.  Now I don’t know about being any sort of queen, but perhaps I am a gypsy at heart - a modern day gypsy with a rented car, GPS, laptop and suitcase - for there is nothing quite like being on the road with no set destination except for a meal and bed to sleep in at the end of the day. 

My German B&B host, suggested I visit Glenveagh National Park in County Donegal in the northwest of Ireland so I set off in the car with some vague instructions.  I followed them down the country road, right after the petrol station and straight on.....until I came to a three way fork.....at which point, I decided to use my GPS.  

This part of Donegal is bleak but beautiful - rolling plains with little vegetation, dotted by lakes.  I turned on the classic radio and relaxed into the drive listening to Strauss.  All I had to do was enjoy the scenery and indulge in my own headspace, not having to attend to anyone.

I passed the sign welcoming me to Glenveagh National Park and kept following the road.  I  was the only person in sight - no cars, no people, just the odd sheep and plains all around me as far as the eye could see.  I had been told that there would be a castle in the park but nothing was in sight so I kept driving.

“You have reached your destination”  said the GPS.  I was still nowhere, only in the middle of this rugged landscape.  Perhaps this wilderness was what my gypsy heart was looking for.  

Little did I know that this was to be the start of a frustrating relationship with my navigator.  Between it and a more than inadequate tourist map, I would see the countryside and coastline of Donegal with some hair raising moments.  Eventually I hailed a man driving his tractor and asked for instructions to the castle: left at the T junction, right after the bridge and follow the road to the left.  So off I went and indeed the signs for the castle started to appear.  

With no expectations, I had in mind to spend an hour or two in the park and then head off west to explore the coastline.  I soon realised that I could spend a whole day in the park.  It is extensive, covering 16,540 hectares, and the most popular part is an old castle that used to be someone’s holiday home surrounded by beautiful gardens.  From the parking lot, there was a 5 km track that led alongside the lake to the castle.  Shuttle buses ferried people back and forth but I opted for the exercise. 

On the way, I had a nice chat to a school teacher who was also training to be an outdoor adventure coach.  I was told the water temperature of the lake was about 5 degrees and the ocean about 12 degrees, a far cry from what I had left in Sydney in winter.  I had hoped I would be able to swim at one of the beaches on the Atlantic coast, but it didn’t sound like it was likely to happen anytime soon.   

We soon arrived at the castle, and in contrast to the surrounding stark landscape, the grounds were lush with a diversity of plants.  I said good-bye to the adventure coach and headed into the gardens which was alive with colour.  I have never seen such enormous poppies. They were beautiful.  In fact, it felt like I had come across a treasure chest of jewels, after the equally beautiful but desolate and barren countryside.  

After leaving the garden, I headed further out of the castle grounds and along the lake in the direction of a waterfall.  Unfortunately on the way, it started to rain and as it was also lunchtime, I turned back hoping to get a bite to eat in the tea rooms of the castle.  

After spending a good three hours in the national park, I got back in the car and headed towards the town of Dunfanaghy on the northwest coast.  I thought I would follow the tourist map and stop at the advertised points of interest in the free magazine I had picked up at the tourist office.  It was by no means a Lonely Planet and so with very little information apart from a few attractive photos, I decided first to go to Horn Head.  I couldn’t find it in the GPS so I followed the road signs which took me further away from the main road, up and down narrow lanes that eventually turned into an unsealed road separated from neighbouring fields by a barbed wire fence.  I followed it until it became a dead end where a few cars were parked.  I got out and hoped that I would find something that told me this was Horn Head and perhaps even an explanation of what it was that I was looking for.  

Unfortunately there was nothing.  I don’t know where the people were who must have driven up here in the parked cars.  In all directions, land covered by gorse stretched out before me.  I could see that it led to the cliffs on the coast but they were still quite a distance away.  So who knows where Horn Head was or how one got there.  I didn’t really have time trampling through the gorse in search of it so I decided to get back in the car and this time, I entered a village a bit further along the main road as my next destination in the GPS.  I had assumed it would take me back the same route I had just come.  However,  I found myself going up a narrow unsealed road, with a little sign saying ‘Scenic Route’ .  I thought it must be okay if there was a sign advertising that this was a scenic way so I kept going.  I soon forgot about the scenery as I had to slow down to about 5 km/h as i made my way over rocks and gravel, worrying about doing damage to my rented vehicle.  I looked at the GPS and it told me this that I would not be making a turn off this road for another 3km.  I hoped there would be no oncoming traffic as there was room only for one car as I bumped along the unsealed road which occasionally dipped into pools of muddy water.  By the time the 3km were over and I finally found my way back onto a sealed road, I was stressed from gripping the steering wheel and I found myself breathing more deeply as I must have more or less stopped breathing in concentration and anxiety that I might find myself stuck somewhere with no mobile reception and in the middle of nowhere.  Before the day was out, this experience was to be repeated many more times.  This was truly the road less travelled.

By the time I reached my B&B, I wished no more to go down scenic routes or explore points of interest on my tourist map.  I only wished to find asphalt under my tyres and an end to my adventures for the day.