ZigZag Wanderer

Wednesday 8th October 2025

It was dry and bright for an early-ish start to our run back to the ferry port. There was a slightly anxious moment, though, when a low-loader and crane pulled up beside us, blocking our exit, to lift one of the boats out. We needn’t have worried though, as they were very efficient and the tatty old hulk was soon on its way to Athlone to be auctioned off.

Can’t see them getting much for it, mind.

The run to Dublin was fairly hassle-free; mostly clear motorway miles, with just a few sticky bits through the capital as you might expect. Boarding was fairly straightforward, too, but as we’d erred on the side of caution and arrived rather early, it was fairly protracted.

We took up station in the Pet Den once again, but this time were not so lucky as there were two cats in there, thus guaranteeing a very agitated Lacy. Oh well. ‘It’ happens…

At least we sailed bang on time, and the sea was quite placid. I’ll take the wins.

Bye, Ireland…

…and hello Holyhead

Egress from ship and port was swift and painless (shock!), and after a quick stop at Asda, we were on our way along the Expressway, turning off for the Campra Aire which is just south of Amlwch on Anglesey’s north coast.

It was all going swimmingly, and we were enjoying the weather and the views… until, just a few miles short, we encountered two police cars with blues on, a tractor stopped in the middle of the narrow road, and a WPC indicating that we should disappear, sharpish, from whence we came. Bearing in mind that we had no clue as to the best way to re-route (Google really doesn’t help in situations like this), we had a quick chat and she kindly plonked a suitable destination into the phone’s map from whence we could start again. Sadly, that made for a detour of well over twenty miles on narrow roads, and looking now, it really was the only feasible option. Ah well, it was still just about daylight when we made it to the aire!

And the ‘Anglesey Aire’ as it’s called is fine. It’s based on an old farm in the middle of nowhere in the shadow of Mount Parys with its disused copper mine winding-head atop, so it’s very peaceful, notwithstanding the odd trainer aircraft from nearby RAF Valley overflying. Yes, it could be described as a little rough round the edges (but what farm isn’t?) but it has everything we needed for a tenner for 24 hours, and we had it to ourselves. Winner, really.

Thursday 9th October 2025

A dull but dry and still (still) morning.

Sausage batches for breakfast (just a sausage for Her Lacyship), and we headed out northwards on the very short hop to Amlwch in search of coffee, and found it at the dog-friendly, and tiny, Blueberries cafe. What a great find, and another strong recommendation. We took away a couple of lumps of home-made fruit flapjack (everything is home-made by the lovely ladies there) and they were found to be delicious when we had them later.

Next stop, Amlwch Port. This is a tiny inlet which was blasted out many years ago to permit shipbuilding and the export of copper from the aforementioned mine.

Amlwch Port looking seawards

The exhibition is in the small stone building. Worth a look.

There’s also an interesting and totally free exhibition on the subject of the unique (genuinely wide-ranging) geology of the island and the people that surveyed/mapped it. Be warned though, if the same chap that manned it today catches you, you ain’t getting out very quickly. As they say, he can talk the hind legs off a donkey. Nice guy though, and very, very knowledgeable.

Moving on, we drove down the east coast, passing the Menai bridge and crossing the straits (with the ‘swellies’ visibly boiling away below) at the Britannia. Our destination was Blackrock Sands just west of Porthmadog, where we’d (whisper it quietly) booked a couple of nights on the Haven site there. Normally we wouldn’t entertain such a place, but, it was pretty good value, and the touring site is totally separate from the sea-of-aluminium statics site, and really isn’t bad. No, really.

Sea of aluminium (there’s a LOT more off-shot to the right).

But turn round, and there’s the huge beach!

Friday 10th October 2025

Tiny bit of drizzly stuff first thing, then fine for the rest of the day – which was just as well as we’d booked a train ride up to Blaenau Ffestiniog in the morning.

Arriving at the Harbour Station of the Ffestiniog Railway way too early (10am for a 10.40 train) we got (dubious) coffees and set about waiting for the off.

We last took this trip some forty-odd years ago, so it felt like time to re-live it, partly in memory of my old friend Nick Meredith who passed away in April. Nick was a long-time member of the railway, spending a lot of time volunteering there back in his student days in the early eighties, and kept coming back as it was a place, and cause, he dearly loved.

Nick would have liked that our train was hauled by one of the unique Double Fairlie locos; David Lloyd George in this case

The train was by no means busy with passengers, which is always a bonus, and soon the Eryri countryside and mountains were unfolding before and beside us, and it’s still as beautiful as ever.

Arriving at Blaenau it wasn’t quite as we remembered it though. We both recalled it being a rather depressing place, dominated by slate and not much else, so we were pleasantly surprised to find it somewhat attractive. Maybe the weather was poor last time? That would definitely colour your viewpoint here.

Station entrance at BF. Clever and attractive use of slate here.

Her Lacyship wasn’t quite so comfortable with it all, though. Her initial reaction was to go into full tremble mode, but fortunately she soon settled down and took up station at the window watching the passing scenery. I guess her initial reaction isn’t surprising. Although she’s travelled in cars, campers, and even aeroplanes, she probably still has an inbuilt, learned, fear of being locked in small noisy environments due to her early days in the cage. She’s getting there, though.

We had a walk round Porthmadog on our return, and it’s a pleasant enough place to pass an hour. Lacy was much happier, though, when we drove to Black Rock sands afterwards!

Back at the campsite we decided to indulge in fish and chips for tea from the onsite chipoil. That was a mistake! They had no haddock, so we both had mince beef pies instead (which, in truth, weren’t bad). The chips and mushy peas, however, were appalling. Just how can folk that cook them for a living fail to understand that the simple piece of deep-fried potato should be brown, crisp, and delicious, instead of pale, soggy, flaccid, and tasteless? Disgusting, and a real waste of money, sadly.

Ah well; we never seem to learn!

Saturday 11th October 2025

The last day of the trip and not bad weather for it. Dry, calm, and cool.

Another early-ish start due to kick-out time being 10am, and, quite frankly, I was ready to leave and get back home.

Packing up went extraordinarily well. We must be getting used to it!

We hit the road well before ten and filled with fuel at the Shell garage almost opoosite the Harbour Station. Petol is not particularly cheap just here, but I increased the bill somewhat by buying a new rechargeable wide-angle head torch for a penny under a tenner. Oddly, I’d only just mentioned wanting a new one – they’re very handy for all sorts of jobs including when Her Lacyship takes me for an after-dark walk – so to see them on sale there at a decent price was a nice surprise.

Leaving the service station coincided with the lights turning red outside, and we were treated to a Welsh Highland Railway train rumbling up the high street before turning off a few feet away as it gathered momentum for its long haul via Beddgelert to Caernarfon Station on the north coast. Couldn’t have timed it better – or worse, if you don’t like that kind of thing…

Sorry if it’s turned into a bit of a railway blog, but hey!

We chose a different route back, via Bala instead of Llangollen. Both have their merits, but the Bala run is very scenic. Traffic was light, but we did get stuck behind a Range Rover towing a big caravan for many miles. It’s a ‘B’ road all the way to the A5, quite narrow and winding, so there was no chance of passing. Even if he was having trouble with his width at points, there was no way that the selfish so-and-so was going to pull over (he had many opportunities) to let us pass. Such is the way of the blinkered though. I did tow a small caravan for a few years, but was always very conscious of traffic behind, and always pulled over where possible. It’s just plain courtesy. I guess we’re all built differently.

Finally, at the A5, we didn’t have to look at his big white tail end any more and headed for our favourite Mountford Bridge café. I guess you could call it a service area, but it’s totally different from any other, and is probably more like many of the French non-motorway ones, being a very large area among trees, with lots of room to walk dogs, and also inside and outside eating areas. All very informal and relaxing. We love it. Oh, and the bacon batches are incredibly good. In fact, it’s all locally-sourced stuff here, and the bacon must be nearly 3mm thick!

Very late breakfast done, the remainder of the trip home was just the boring motorway and trunk road stuff that eats the miles but also seems to eat the soul.

Still, it was nice to finally pull onto the driveway, but then starts the clear-up after five and a half weeks on the road…

But that’s after a cuppa..

Meanwhile, we’ll take stock, and I’ll look at doing a follow-up blog with conclusions, mileages, costs etc., and some thoughts as to what the future holds.

Manána! (That’s not a clue btw 😉).

Thursday 2nd October 2025

I guess, as we’re getting quite close to the right-hand bottom corner now, and just about to start the final leg northwards, this could well be the last (Irish) blog of the trip. There is, however, a short Welsh section to come, so we’ll see how it pans out.

The day started with very blustery, although dry, conditions. However, the wind was very much more noticeable from our elevated park-up than on the beach below, which was pleasant enough.

We’d been threatened, by the Met Office, with heavy rain from 10am, but it remained dry until we moved on at around 1pm. Indeed, there was no rain until 2pm while we had lunch parked at Kilmore Quay, and even that was quite light.

Sat there, overlooking the harbour, it was plain to see that Ireland still has a substantial fishing industry, with much of the fleet being in, and more arriving as we ate. There’s further evidence in the local outlets and packing plant too.

Kilmore Quay is a very pleasant place, with several cafés and restaurants, and many thatched cottages around the village. The Grounds Bakery, where we obtained bread, cakes, and coffee for lunch (alongside a very nice chowder bought the day before and heated in the van) is also a servery with a few outside tables, and we can certainly recommend a visit. Lovely fresh-baked produce and coffee.

We moved on, following lunch, through the increasingly poor weather, parking up for the night on the northern outskirts of Rosslare, just round the corner on the northwards leg, facing the Irish Sea instead of the Celtic Sea. It’s not the most scenic spot, but it has toilets, and a water tap, and it’s only a few steps from another nice beach, so no complaints here. However – didn’t it rain? Bucketed down all evening and night. Bah.

Friday 3rd October 2025

It was still raining, pretty hard too, so we just did the obvious thing and ate overstuffed bacon sarnies!

We’d already booked a couple of nights on a campsite (the second of the trip) so we could shelter a bit from the incoming storm – winds of 60+ mph forecast. However, when we got there we found the site is pretty exposed, so there was little respite. Thankfully, though, by about 5pm it was easing off a little and the sun put in an appearance.

Looking towards Wexford from the campsite

The site is pretty good, too. It’s attached to the town’s swimming pool/gym complex, and has decent, very clean facilites, and all pitches are large and hard-standing, each having a tap and 12A outlet. Recommended.

Apart from the still-strong wind, it was actually quite pleasant, and far from cold. That’s been a feature of the trip really; even when the weather has been particularly foul, it’s rarely been cold. I did debate, before the trip started, whether I should pack an extra CampingGaz 907 to run the blown-air heating, but we have hardly used it. Indeed, with no heat at all last night, the van was at a too-warm 24.5 degrees at bedtime. Ridiculous for early October.

And then the sun went down

The above pics were taken in the direction of Wexford town, which is just across Wexford Bridge, over the River Slaney, from here in Ferrybank Camping. Hopefully the weather will show a little clemency tomorrow and we’ll take a walk over there.

Saturday 4th October 2025

A rather rough night, that.

The wind certainly howls in over the bay here, and I had to remove the screen cover, which was identifying as more of a kite than anything. Still, the sun was shining even if the van was rocking. It was forecast to moderate a bit as the day progressed so we left it until midday to brave the very long and very exposed bridge, but it was still wild enough to blow yer ‘at orf (so mine went in me skyrocket).

Wexford’s a pleasant, compact county town – and pretty busy on a Saturday. We walked along the quay, alongside the railway tracks and the trawlers, and on into the well-stocked centre.

All in all, it’d be a very acceptable first/last stop for anyone using the ferries at Rosslare, just down the road.

Sunday 5th October 2025

That awful wind has dropped right away. It’s still breezy, with the occasional gust, but what a relief. The sun is out, it’s fairly warm. All’s well.

Across the bay. Rosslare beyond the headland, right, and sun centre-stage.

It was kick-out day, so we filled with water, dumped rubbish, and generally fannied around until nearly midday when we hit the road north towards our next county, Wicklow, and Arklow harbour.

Arklow harbour and river

We’d contemplated staying the night here, by the river, but on parking and taking a walk through town, it just didn’t feel right. Arklow has to be one of the most run-down and neglected, if not utterly depressing places we’ve visited – certainly in Ireland. Shop after business closed, and many buildings along the High Street without even roofs (and trees growing out of them!).

Just one example. ‘Arklow Open for Business’. I think not

Even allowing for the fact that it was a Sunday afternoon, there really didn’t appear to be anything stirring in or around this particular incipient-corpse, and it really didn’t feel ‘right’ so we moved on.

M spotted what looked a likely candidate on Park 4 Night, a few kilometres north, and so it transpired. It’s just a small parking area next to a cut-through onto the dune-backed Brittas beach.

And lovely it is too. Her Lacyship had a rare old time running free on beach and dunes, and we enjoyed a pleasant walk as well.

Looking south…

…and artily westwards

Monday 6th October 2025

What a glorious morning to wake up to. Clear blue, wonderfully warm, and still. It’s typical isn’t it? Home in just a couple of days!

Lacy got two walks on the beach, and eventually we tore ourselves away as we wanted to visit Wicklow, before positioning ourselves on Tuesday for the run to Dublin and the ferry on Wednesday.

We’d almost made it there too, when we came across a road accident/collision forcing a detour. Hope they were OK.

The detour was minor and we were soon checking out a couple of potential park-ups. Neither were ideal, but one was far better than the other, so we chose that. Damn, though. It cost us 50 cents for the day 😉

Capstan Full Strength

Wicklow is pleasant enough to wander around. It’s another fishing port, but immeasurably nicer than Arklow.

We had a quick lunch on the High Street, and then walked round to the far side of the harbour for a great view of the boats and the Wicklow mountains to the north.

Meandering back, we crossed the river via the old arched circa 1690 road bridge, and again via the pedestrian bridge (a somewhat later 1940s vintage) a little upstream, finally settling at what is purported to be Eire’s most easterly pub (we seem to be hitting all the compass points!), The Brass Fox, for cold pints of alchy-free draught Guinness. Very good it was too, and very welcome.

Lovely day for a Guinness. Don’t ask me what the Welsh flag’s about

Then cups of tea, and Lacy’s dinnertime back at the van, just a few yards from the seafront once again. A very pleasant day, all said.

Tuesday 7th October 2025

That was a surprisingly peaceful night given how busy the area was yesterday evening.

It dawned quite dull and overcast, yet calm and not cold at all.

Needing some food for Lacy, we’d already decided on a walk round town, and a hunt for a proper breakfast – and boy did we find a proper breakfast?

There are two fried eggs hiding under that lot too, and pots of tea included.

I have to say it was the best brekky I’ve had in a long time, and really good value, and very dog-friendly in there. Well done Hanna’s Restaurant, Wicklow.

Having eaten ourselves to a standstill, and picked up Lacy’s snap, it was time to move on – this time to Dun Laoghaire, just south of Dublin. Mandi wanted a look here so she could visit the site of her great-great-grandparents’ wedding, and also view the harbour wall which he’d helped to build as a stonemason.

The church – or what’s left of it following a fire in the sixties – of St Michael’s is an imposing and impressive one, and I obviously couldn’t fail to note the parallels with my own St Michael’s Cathedral in Coventry.

John McDonnell and Frances Moore lived in nearby Blackrock, but moved to England during the potato famine, with their daughter Elizabeth, who sadly saw out her days in the workhouse in Liverpool.

A small but interesting fact is that Frances is also an ancestor of the late, great blues guitarist Gary Moore, who I can happily say I once saw play live on the same bill as BB King, on Blues Boy’s Farewell European tour.

We drove on through Blackrock itself, and then west away from Dublin towards our next (final on the Irish leg) park-up by the canal near Robertstown, Co. Kildare, passing the famous Mondello Park race track on the way, then crossing the Liffey on a single-lane stone bridge near Caragh.

It started raining a little before we arrived, and then continued raining quite a lot for quite a while!

A couple of location shots – post rain – at the park-up, to finish. These were both taken at 7.45pm in opposite directions along the canal. It was quite dark, and therefore they had to be enhanced somewhat. Apologies for the quality.

(With apologies to Charles Kingsley)

Sunday 28th September 2025

A beautiful sunny and warm morning.

Having ‘turned the corner’ now, and also reached the conclusion point of the Wild Atlantic Way (or Wibbly Wobbly Way as it tends to be described within the confines of ZZW), we’ve decided to spend a bit of time in beautiful Kinsale.

Morning duties done (myself taking Her Lacyship for a good walk and an even better emptying, and M rearranging the furniture) we took tea (Lyons: we ran out of the Yorkshire variety some time ago, but I must say I like the alternative every bit as much), and then wandered into town in search of the place of the breaking of the fast.

The harbour

And what a breaking it was, too. The full Market Breakfast at the dog-friendly Leona’s café is a proper stonker, with great bacon, excellent sausages, wonderful toast (fantastic bread) and poached eggs, with tomatoes and avocado too. Mandi’s plate also came with some spurious rather greasy brown/black/spotty-white discs on it. Thankfully I’d had the foresight to insist that none of those were dumped on my plate, so I didn’t have to sneak them into the toilet, thus cutting out the middleman.

The waitress might have been a teeny bit bored, but no such issues with the snap

Mooching around the town centre afterwards proved it to be full of decent-looking eateries (Kinsale has long had a fine gastronomic reputation) and shops – and some interesting architecture and artwork too.

Storytelling steps…

…interesting frontages…

…and colourful ones too

After an enjoyable exploratory bimble, we repaired to the van for a bit of relaxing, and blogging – and more tea; the decision having been made to stay another night.

It had reached 30°C inside the van on our return, so the 5v fan was broken out. It soon cooled to the low twenties though as the clouds began to roll in. Fortunately they brought nothing worse, and our week-plus of clement weather continued as the azure skies duly returned. Oh, wouldn’t it have been good to have at least some of this during our first two weeks here? Still, better late, etc.

Laziness got the better of us, and the rest of the afternoon was spent loafing around the van, but, by evening, and with the breakfast finally having worn off, we decided to walk back into town and pick up fish & chips, and eat them by the harbour. It has to be said here that Dino’s probably isn’t the best, though. Perfectly acceptable chips, nice crunchy batter, but a very small piece of haddock – and definitely not fresh in today from west Cork as their bumf promises. Three out of five stars, at best, sadly.

Nah. Should do better

The view on the way back was pretty decent though.

Monday 29th September 2025

Duller, cooler, but still dry. Having taken Lacy for her morning constitutional up Breakheart Hill (or Sore Knee Hill in my case) we partook of the tea ritual. Coffee can wait.

Trust me; it’s much steeper than it looks here

Time to move on, with a goal of Youghal further along the south coast, right on the border of Cork with Waterford, which would place us well for a hop to the Mahon Falls the next day.

However, on reaching Youghal, it quickly became apparent that the park-up was quite popular, even at 11.30am, and it was also a fair step into town – which didn’t exactly look inspiring. Passing through, then, except for a quick Tesco stop for milk, we headed on towards Mahon Falls – a day ahead of schedule!

There’s a suitable park-up there too, which comes highly recommended on Search for Sites, so we decided to settle in there and then walk to the falls.

Home for the night…

…and, meet the neighbours (apparently the sea is visible on a clear day, over there, between the sky and the land…).

The falls…

…and closer

It’s a pleasant 3/4 mile walk down to the falls, which are actually visible from the car park, viz:

Once again, although it was a bit murky, we were lucky. There were a few spits of rain on the way back, but not enough to wet your Acme Thunderer.

Tuesday 30th September 2025

Well, the Thunderer would certainly be wet this morning. It wasn’t really raining as such though, just very moistly-misty, with a few cohesive driplets. Y’know – that vey fine rain that soaks you through…

Anyway, it was another very peaceful night, accompanied by a huge French-registered Dethleffs tag-axle moho. Of course, as it was a very large empty car park, he had to park right behind us. It’s what French moho-ers do.

He cleared off (down the tiny lane down the mountain. Rather him than me in that particular ocean-going liner) eventually, and we followed around midday, heading for the coast via a shop stop for water, soda bread and coffees.

We parked at Kilmurrin Cove on the UNESCO Copper Coast Geopark, watched the tide recede for a while,

and enjoyed cream of tomato soup with soda bread for lunch. There’s something very comforting about tomato soup on a blustery, damp day, especially as we are both coming down with colds! The soda bread was absolutely scrumptious by the way.

So good, and followed by an equally excellent cherry scone

The next stop and potential park-up was just northwest of Waterford, at Waterford Greenway, by the river and looking across to Co. Kilkenny. As it happened, it wasn’t the best, so we quickly moved on to another further west along the Greenway on the Co. Waterford bank of the River Suir. Much better; more level, and potentially much quieter.

The Greenway is a 46km length of mostly disused railway line

converted to a walkway/cycleway – much like the Derbyshire Monsal and Tissington ones, except that it still has a track (at least on this bit) albeit converted from Standard Gauge to 3ft narrow gauge for the Suir Valley Railway. It’s a great shame that they are

no longer fully functioning scheduled railways, but at least they bring pleasure and fresh air to many.

Sadly, the weather continued to deteriorate – but the forecast for tomorrow, when we intend to visit Waterford, looks much better.

Wednesday 1st October 2025

Wow. October already. I believe there’s a Very Important Day coming up during this, the month of eight. Can’t think what it is though. Battle of Edge Hill Day, perhaps?

The weather, as promised, is much improved; cloudy, but dry and calm (and far from cold) so hopefully the raincoats can stay in the van while we take in Waterford.

The city of Waterford – Ireland’s oldest,

Museum of Time(?)

apparently – has a history dating back to Viking times, and indeed has a quarter, facing the river, known as the Viking Triangle.

The Triangle, with tower to fore

You’d obviously be hard-pressed to spot any actual Viking architecture, but Ireland’s oldest civic building, Reginald’s Tower stands there, and holds several atefacts from that period.

The city is a curious mix, with many upmarket shops, and many closed-down ones. It seems to be undergoing change, though, which hopefully will see rejuvenation.

We did find one delightful very dog-friendly café though, which had very personable customers and proprietor, so it was a given that we would lunch there – and very good it was, too.

Three hours was enough to see as much as we needed to see, so we moved on, out of Co. Waterford, through a sliver of County Kilkenny, and into Co. Wexford, yet another new one to us.

It was a pleasanty unevenful drive south, having driven north for some distance to effect a river crossing, landing at the small coastal settlement of Cullenstown, where we parked up for the night overlooking the beach.

Nice enough

Shell Cottage, just across the way

Last we’ll see of the sun for a while, I think

Tuesday 23rd September 2025

Another perfect – calm and perfectly clear – morning in the valley. Perhaps a good day to wander further afield, but we’ll probably just roll into Bantry to explore the town for a few hours.

And Bantry is a quite attractive town. There’s not a huge share of great Irish architecture here, that’s for sure (unless you count large, grey, angular hotels and supermarkets overlooking otherwise good-looking marinas and inlets of course) but much of what is there is fine enough. Walking away from the free car park by said inlet and supermarket, the vibe changes quite quickly. The large Wolf Tone square, which also serves as a traffic gyratory, gives way to pleasant streets with plenty of independent shops and cafes (one of which provided our morning coffees – with pastries, of course).

Venturing further from the front brings you to a very steep hill where a stream tumbles by the side of the road, turning a water wheel as it does so. The still section of water to the side of the wheel seems to be the

resting place for anything that finds its way into the water further upstream, and there was a large collection of footballs bobbing around there!

I wonder what Hurley Bros Motor Garage sold back then (Renault cars on another site now)

Heading back down to the (other side of the) marina brings views across the water towards Beara, and gives a clue as to just why that blockhouse hotel was built there. The elevated views from the balconies must be spectacular.

Towards Beara

Wednesday 24th September 2025

A bit on the dull side this morning, but far from a bad forecast.

Today; the Ring of Beara.

The Beara peninsula is the third one up from the bottom left of Ireland. Smaller than the Kerry Ring (next north) but larger than Sheep’s Head (south of).

We’ve visited before, during that holiday many years ago, and have memories of the Healy Pass which cuts north to south

through the mountains of Beara. It may well beat the Conor pass on Dingle for scenic beauty, too, but I’ll not insist on it.

It is, however, spectacular.

We followed it from the north side this time, the opposite direction from last time.

Castletown, the main town on the peninsula, is… tired, to be polite. Oh, and (almost) everything is shut! We did find a couple of plces that would sell us a carry-out coffee, but even that wasn’t really bringing much to the table, so we moved on. Well, back the way we’d come, as we’d really seen enoughand didn’t fancy heading on to the end of the peninsula.

The road back along the southern coast does afford aome terrific views across the water to Sheep’s Head, and, to our left, the Beara mountains

.Reaching the end brought us to Glengarrif, which we’d already passed through a couple of times, and it looked quite alluring, so we decided to stop in search of sustenance – and found it in the form of several vans and trailers parked in the car park of a lage woollen (etc.) goods emporium. We chose galettes made in and served from an old converted (and French registered) Peugeot van, by a lovely French lady, to boot. And weren’t they just superb? We both chose Galettes Supérieure – ham, cheese, and fried egg. Basic food prepared so well it becomes a gastronomic experience. Coffee (also excellent) from the caravan next door completed our dinnertime repast – and was all we needed! Utterly delicious.

Thursday 25th September 2025

Dry again. Cool again. But no complaints.

One of the places we visited all those years ago, and which was a must to revisit, was the memorial to the 329 victims of the 1985 Air India terrorist bombing.

The plane came down off the County Cork coast, with a total loss of life, just two months before our first daughter was born, and she and her sister visited the beautiful, yet simple memorial garden and sundial at Ahakista, Sheep’s Head, Co. Cork with us just a few years later.

It’s a fittingly serene and lovely spot, overlooking the water and the nearby Mizen Head, and is perfectly maintained as a place to reflect and remember.

A few kilometres further west along the coast road, we stopped at the Old Creamery at Kilcrohane where we treated ourselves to lunch. Creamy chowder in generous proportions, and stuffed with all manner of seafood, served with home-made bread and (not home made) butter. Absolutely delicious it was too.

Looking from Sheep’s Head with Mizen Point in the distance

Choosing to drive to the tip – or as far as possible – of Sheep’s Head, with the intention of walking the last stretch, we found ourselves thwarted at the car park. No dogs indeed. Ridiculous.

Still, we managed tea at the cafe there, accompanied by the scent of what turned out to be a very extinct sheep just over the edge of the cliff. Sheep’s Head indeed!

It’s an exceedingly desolate kind of place out here – far more so than Beara, Dingle, and Mizen, but no worse for that. In fact we love it, and the fact that the road there is so challenging makes it even more special.

Friday 26th September 2025

The last full day at our little bolt-hole, and, while it’s not windy or rainy, it feels much chillier today. Maybe Finn McCool is conditioning us for the inevitable bad weather we can expect when we hit the road along Ireland’s south coast?

I jest, of course. Although it’s undoubtedly becoming somewhat more Autumnal, as one would expect in late September, the forecast is by no means too horrible. Fingers crossed that it’s correct…

As we’ve pretty much caught up with all our desired sightseeing, we decided to just have a bimble inland about half an hour to the small market town of Dunmanway. OK, it’s unremarkable, but has most of what you might need, including a very nice, very dog-friendly coffee shop, that serves excellent coffee, and lumps of cake the size of a small garden shed. And my carrot cake was bleddy superb too. Another genuine recommendation.

Aside from that, and a quick visit to the Super Value just along the road, we saw no need to hang about too long, so headed back via the Cousane Gap pass to Kealkill, and the Carriganass castle remains there. This is just a small ruin, but kept very nicely, and in a very pleasant riverside location.

Worth a quick look.

The final stop for the day was to be the nearby standing stones atop the hill between Kealkill and The Stall. I say ‘was’ as although we managed to find a safe parking spot on the very narrow winding hill road, on walking back to the stones’ location, it was just so boggy by the stile on the approach that we chickened out, so the following pic is the best we could do, sadly.

The Stones with the range of hills we’d just traversed via the Cousane Gap

Saturday 27th September 2025

It had started to whip up a bit windy during the evening, and that was obviously the prelude to a decent spell of stormy overnight weather, with everything getting a soaking for the first time since our arrival at The Stall. Nevertheless, the day dawned bright, still, and clear, so there were no dramas as we packed for our departure

We headed off at eleven, stopping for fuel at Bantry, and then at Lidl for fripperies (and butter).

Our first destination for the day was Skibbereen again, but this time to visit the Heritage Centre and famine exhibition. Quite the eye-opener it is too. Most people will know something about this awful period of Irish history, but the story is more horrific than most would imagine, especially when seen in this, one of the hardest-hit areas.

When the diet of the poor majority of the populace is potatoes – and pretty much only potatoes – when the blight, introduced from the Americas, wipes out that crop for years on end, then the worst will inevitably happen. People pawned what little they had – even their clothes – only to die cold and starving.

Man, sadly, will always blame the poor for their own demise, and we are obviously learning nothing from that lesson so harshly taught.

From Skib, we began our steady meander across the bottom of Ireland, looking east for the first time in a while, and hove to in Clonakilty. This is a rather attractive and busy (OK, it was Saturday, but you get the feeling about places) small town, which was once the home of the revolutionary Michael Collins; perhaps the best-known of the protagonists of the struggle for independence from the British Crown.

We wanted to have a look at his home on the pretty Georgian Emmett Square, but sadly it was getting close to closing time and there was a private tour ongoing, so we had to miss out.

However, we did manage to pick up some excellent club sandwiches and coffee which we ate as a late lunch/early dinner on a bench in the sun!

With time pressing slightly, we needed to secure a kip spot somewhere, and so we made for the foody hotspot of Kinsale southwest of Cork City. This is another camper-friendly place with plenty of free park-up spaces, and we chose one next to the river, and in easy walking distance of the little town’s centre, ready for a perambulatory exploration tomorrow.

Home for the night

Kinsale is also the start and end of the Wild Atlantic Way, so we can now say… tick, done that!

(A disclaimer though; we didn’t cover every kilometer of the WAW, but that was never the intention. There are so many meandering coastal branches and loops of it, it would take a lot longer to do it full justice. We did enough).

Thursday 18th September 2025

Have a guess. Yep; rain.

It’s fairly warm rain though, and that ‘fresh breeze’ (ha!) has moderated. A bit…

Almond croissants (Lidl, if you haven’t already guessed) provided a pleasant breakfast repast, and Her Lacyship had another good run on the beach during a weather lull, but we really didn’t fancy breaking camp too early. The Dingle peninsula awaits us today – Dingle town on the return southern shore leg – but given the huge grey pudding that swings low (not remotely like a sweet chariot, though) above us, obscuring the vistas, it isn’t that appealing just yet.

Having said all that, the wind and rain got steadily worse during the morning, to the point that the van was shuddering from side to side and the rain was pelting the windows. By noon, then, we had given up on the notion of moving on, and will sit tight for another night. Tomorrow is (allegedly) going to be a bit brighter and calmer, so maybe we’ll just pack up early-ish and cut across the peninsula to have a look at Dingle town, before moving on to do a full circuit of the Ring of Kerry. That’ll put us in a good position to move on to the Bantry area on Saturday, ready to move into our tiny barn conversion refuge for the week.

Looks pretty good at the moment!

Friday 19th September 2025

Amazingly, the wind died overnight, and it had stopped raining by the time we emerged from our cocoon.

However, urgency didn’t enter the equation, so, leaving at nearly midday meant we likely weren’t going to get quite as far as planned. And that turned out to be the case – but I truly think we saw the splendid best of the Dingle.

The Conor Pass road that slices across the Dingle mountains is utterly beautiful – if very narrow in places.

The summit is apparently the highest point on the Wild Atlantic Way, and taking in the views from there, from coast to coast, I can well believe it.

Downwards then to Dingle, and what a lovely little town greeted us. Yes, it’s obviously a tourist magnet, but not outrageously so – even parking a few steps from the centre cost us a mere 50 cents per hour!

We had one of the best coffees we’ve had in a long time at Pig and Leaf, and then picked up sandwiches and cakes at the bakery on Green St (can’t recall the name unfortunately), and these too were superb. Wonderfully fresh and flavoursome bread and fillings.

We can highly recommend Dingle town for a day out – or more.

Heading east along the coast road, there are expansive views, to the left, the Dingle mountains that we had just passed through, and to the right, the Ring of Kerry – our destination.

To be honest, on entering the Ring (ooh, matron…), it comes as a slight anti-climax (sorry; innuendo-overload not intended). It may be bigger (as a peninsula), but it feels a little underwhelming in the scenery stakes compared to the Dingle.

Still, by the end of the afternoon, we were only just over halfway round, at Waterville, our park-up for the night. Maybe the southern leg will show an improvement, but that won’t be apparent until tomorrow. However, the view we had before the sun went away completely was very special,

and provided a superb sunset over the water and distant hills.

And all totally free!

Meanwhile, we decided to pay our neighbours-for-the-night a visit. Good choice, too – but far from free. The Smugglers Inn comes quite highly rated, so we decided to risk a fair chunk of cash on dinner there.

And it was excellent. Lovely starters, followed by an Angus steak for me and Halibut for M. Both cooked to perfection. Another recommendation.

It’s just possible to spot ZZW between our Alaskan friend’s moho and the Smugglers Inn

On returning to the van we found another neighbour; the same folks that we had parked next to last night on the Dingle. Small world. Turned out they are from Alaska, renting a moho and spending three weeks in Ireland. We spent a solid hour chatting about the relative merits and de-merits of ‘RV-ing’ on each side of the pond, and nothing he said surprised me. Nice guy though.

Saturday 20th September 2025

Bright, sunny, scattered cloud. Yippee!

We set off after a leisurely breakfast and a beach walk with Lacy, making for Sneem initially. The stretch of road south and eastwards of Waterville is truly stunning with views for

miles, and some of the most incredible coastal scenery I’ve ever seen – and the weather made it so much better. So much for our reservations about yesterday’s northern leg; this made up for it in spades.

Sneem is also very attractive, with many local, independent shops and eateries – including Kelly’s where we lunched on home made produce and good coffee.

The Ring continues through some decent enough scenery, but nothing compared to the earlier offering, to Kenmare, a pretty, but very busy town. We stopped only at Aldi for provisions. Parking in the centre looked pretty difficult, sadly.

Travelling on, the N road that cuts across the blunt end of the Beara peninsula (part of the Ring of Beara) is

A shot from the side window. Not great!

another stunner, rising and falling, with valley views to the north, and Bantry Bay to the south, ahead of us. I’ll try to get some better snaps of it all when we do the full Ring circuit during the week.

Eventually, we arrived at our home for the week, The Stall. It’s lovely too, in a tiny home kinda way (nothing wrong with that though – have you seen what we’ve been living in for over two and a half weeks?).

Nice view from the front porch too…

I’m sure it’ll make a great base for touring the three SW peninsulas from (Beara, Mizen Head, and Sheep’s Head) for the next week.

Sunday 21st September 2025

The first full day in our ‘week-long-weather-refuge’, and we wake up to an almost perfectly calm, sunny day.

You really couldn’t make it up.

Anyway, today has been put aside for such things as sleeping-in (in a lovely comfy bed), showering, laundry, van-sorting, and general dossing around The Stall.

Just what we needed. Driving and sight-seeing recommences mañana.

Monday 22nd September 2025

A slightly chilly, but bright and still start to the day – which warmed up, eventally to the low 20s. Lovely!

As is our wont, we tarried somewhat, eventually heading out at around 11am; destination Skibbereen. It’s not that much of a place (and very annoyingly gummed up by roadworks in the centre. And I mean gummed up. We were stuck due to malfunctioning lights and inconsiderate drivers, not budging at all for at least 20 minutes until an obviously embarrassed roadworker turned up and made a way for us. Hopefully they sorted the totally one-sided light sequencing after that).

Anyway, we managed to find a roadside space and walked back to Annie May’s Bar, a place that holds fond memories of our last visit a third of a century since! We didn’t go in. It’s all changed now, and as we don’t partake these days, it seemed pointless. I just wanted to get a pic.

We walked back to Apple Betty’s café, and had a light lunch of coffee, sausage rolls, and cake. All excellent.

Hitting the road again, via Ballydehob, where yet more fuel was taken on board – this time for ZZW – we set the Nav for Crookhaven, the place we stayed all those years ago. It hasn’t changed much. O’Sullivan’s Bar (the southernmost pub in Ireland) where we once sat outside by the sea, eating pots of shrimps, is still there

as is ‘our’ bungalow. That was a wonderful last two weeks of August when the sun, unbelievably, shone almost every day

Our base way back then

Driving on further west on Mizen Head, and another fantastic spot we wanted to revisit, is Barley Cove. It’s still fairly unspoilt although there seems to be a few more new houses overlooking now, but the beach is still utterly gorgeous. Well worth visiting.

Five aspects of beautiful Barley Cove

Next stop, and another belated revisit, was the Mizen Head station, right at the very SW tip of Ireland (so pretty much the Lands End equivalent, but nothing like so horribly commercialized). Yes, there’s now a charge to enter, but it was a reasonable €6 each (€7.50 for normal underage ‘adults’) and worth it IMO.

The bridge now takes you to a proper exhibition of aspects of the station that you couldn’t get to see on our last visit, and allows you to go past the buildings quite close to the very tip of Mizen Head. Next stop Canada if you don’t mind getting wet.

The very end…

By this time it was close to 5pm, and kicking out time, so it was time to make the considerable climb back to the Visitor Centre (exit via the gift shop, as usual).

Mizen Head also marks the Start, or Finish, of the west coast North to South run that we started at Malin Point what seems an age ago.

The ‘other’ end!

The run back to base takes in a fair bit of Mizen scenery, touching both the south and west coasts, the latter affording views of Sheep’s Head and Beara beyond. A stop at the Bantry Lidl for odds and ends, and then ‘home.

What a lovely day.

Today’s trip. Ignore all the ‘noise’ in the top RH corner. Polar Steps sometimes does some very weird things. We started and finished at the red dot, and in an almost straight line to and from Bantry.

Monday 15th September 2025

The expected front/storm landed at around 1am. I’d agonized somewhat as to whether I should take down the ‘sun shade’ (there’s a misnomer for you) and drop the pop top, but decided to risk it. And on waking this morning it seems I was justified. I certainly wouldn’t have risked it in one or two of the other spots we’ve parked up in!

The worst ‘damage’ I can see is that the sunshade is covered in fallen leaves. I’ll take that.

This is the first time we’ve had the opportunity to deploy the ‘shade’, so I’m pretty happy with it, overall. Mind you, I set it up with the (supplied) storm straps, pegged down with the Delta Pegs that I always use at stress points on awnings and tents, so I was fairly confident.

How anyone who camps doesn’t use Deltas is beyond me. They’re amazing things. Rock solid, unlike most other, even very expensive, aftermarket pegs. Best design ever without a shadow of a doubt.

Anyroadup; today was another one designed to force us to keep our heads down. We did take a walk, second-guessing the temporary mid-afternoon lull in the nastiness, down to the nearby Lough Corrib, which is pretty huge, but sadly not much is visible from the one and only walkable vantage point. Still, it blew away some of the cobwebs.

Tuesday 16th September 2025

Moving-on day at last. And, lo! The sun’s out and there’s no wind. Whisper it…

At least, at last(!),we were able to pack away in the dry, which is always a blessing compared with getting everything soaked (that isn’t already soaked) while trying to stuff it in the van.

It remained fair for the drive into Galway City too, so we were feeling quite optimistic, but after trawling around the various car parks only to be thwarted by ridiculously low barriers we decided that Galway City didn’t want/need/deserve our money, and headed back out. A shame, as we’ve heard good things about the place, but it just wasn’t to be.

Re-planning on the fly, as it were, we headed south again in the general direction of the Burren and the Cliffs of Moher.

Did I mention rocks before?

There’s an awful lot of rock there at Murrooghtoohy Geopark; specifically limestone. Tip! If you, like M, wish to see these rocks, get your skates on. Apparently erosion caused by rain (there’s a lot of rain…) means there’ll be none left in five to ten million years. Don’t say I didn’t warn ye!

On, then, to the Cliffs of Moher.

Here, you can pay to look at… rocks.

OK, cynicism aside, it’s a World Heritage Site (or something like that) and the cliffs are actually pretty impressive, and it’s all very well laid-out and maintained. Also, as we did, you can choose to book a visit after 4pm, which saves a fair chunk of change. What a business though. Even though it’s mid September, the place was crawling with visitors from all over the planet. Upkeep aside, it should certainly hold its own, financially.

Cliffs…

…and more cliffs

Look! Seen more rocks. Happy again.

Next step was to look for a park-up for the night, so Search for Sites was deployed, and turned up a likely looking spot in Kildysart on the north shore of the Shannon estuary. It’s classed as a ‘community aire’ and has very decent facilities (water, dumping, showers, toilets) and for a voluntary contribution of 10€ is a fair bargain.

Sadly, the weather closed in yet again, so we’ll likely be confined to quarters for the evening.

Tide’s out, but not a bad view tonight.

It’s just a short walk into the village, and with the weather supposedly taking a turn for the (much) better overnight and tomorrow, we’ll no doubt have a wander up there after breakfast.

Wednesday 17th September 2025

Up, to the unmistakable sound of the curlews, and the sight of an egret dabbing in the mud-lined fringes of the Shannon below us.

Pretty perfect, really.

OK, the weather wasn’t quite what Aunty Beeb had led us to expect; quite blowy and with the occasional hint of wet in the air, but it was still highly acceptable given some of our recent experiences.

We had intended to walk into the village this morning, but revised that plan, getting on the road and off in search of petrol and coffee – duly nailed at a very well appointed Texaco just a few miles up the road towards Shannon. Much needed in both cases.

Shannon itself passed us by with no real evidence of its existence except for a few road signs and the odd aeroplane looking for a landing strip, and we hit the non-toll bit of the M18 for Limerick.

There was an old man from Rugby

Who put to sea in a tug(by)

But was absolutely shite at short-form poetry...

The end.

That’s enough of that then.

Limerick is the first (or last, to be more accurate) point at which you can cross the River Shannon by road, and so we did,

followed very shortly by a visit to the Lidl for provisions, and the makings of a quick lunch to be eaten on the southern bank of the river at the port of Foynes.

Foynes, Co. Limerick

Driving further west along the river estuary, it quickly becomes apparent just how vast it is, and why it’s home to so many ports and power stations.

Looking West…

…and East

Again, you just can’t do nature justice with mere snaps.

We drifted on into Kerry, eventually entering the Dingle peninsula, with the first mountains we’ve seen for a few days, to our left, and the ocean to the right. We’d noted an ‘aire’ type of motorhome stopover, The Bridge Field, at Magherabeg. This one comes in at €10 per 24 hours (important, that, as many ‘proper’ campsites consider an overnight stop to be a 20 hour turnaround at best, and generally want to charge you two or three – or more – times as much for the privilege). Michael’s site is level, very well kept, has multiple hook-ups (extra fiver per 24 hours. We didn’t need it) and fresh water points, together with grey and black dumping. It also has views of the mountains on one side, and a long beach a few steps from the other side.

We loved it.

As did Lacy love our long walk on the beach, off lead, running like a nutter. She’ll sleep tonight.

Wednesday 10th September 2025

As beautiful and as beautifully peaceful as Tullagh Beach was, the weather certainly took a turn for the worse. A front moved in (shades of Malin, Rockall, Hebrides for those who recall the Shipping Forecast being a fixture on the wireless set) with squally winds and associated rain, buffeting the van in its rather exposed position all night and well into the morning. Nothing scary; not even concerning, but a reminder of what is to come when the autumn storms begin to kick in (hopefully not before we go home!).

Choosing to keep our heads down a bit longer than usual, we eventually struck south for Buncrana, hoping to find a suitably dog-friendly café for a bit of lunch, but failing miserably. So, on southwards we went to Letterkenny, and struck gold with the Honey Pot, which served us pulled pork burger and pulled pork Eggs Benedict, both of which were superb. Washed down with really good coffee, and then more coffee with muffins, we were glad we’d missed breakfast, and sure we were also going to miss dinner. And so it transpired. Still stuffed at 7.30pm!

The weather hadn’t bucked its ideas up much by then, though, and indeed was chucking it down as we walked back to the van. Soft, warm, Irish rain, though…

We had a decision to make now. Either head west towards the Atlantic coast, or north to look at another lump of rock M wanted to look at.

M won.

Next stop then, via Lidl for odds and ends and bottled water, was Great Pollet Sea Arch, which conveniently provided a park-up with a view too, so that’s us for the night – just a tiny bit (latitude-wise) south of where we were last night, after a good many miles to get here.

Ah well. We have time.

Seen rocks. Happy now.

Thursday 11th September 2025

Wet and windy.

The weather wasn’t much better either. We were very much on the highest point for some distance around us, overlooking the lough and sea, and it got very blowy in the night!

Today was the time to reposition ourselves somewhat, as we’d probably spent a fair bit more time in the north of the island than originally planned.

So, we headed towards Donegal with the intention of viewing more rocks. Big, mountainy ones this time, though.

We’d seen a particular area featured on a You Tube video, and it looked rather scenic, so why not?

The Eagle’s Rock

As usual, it’s impossible to convey such majesty with photos, but trust me, these are majestic, and well worth the detour down some nadgery little roads.

A small section of the Horseshoe. Far more impressive in the flesh.

We could’ve spent a lot more time exploring, but sadly the weather (on and off torrential rain) made it impractical. We have nowhere to dry off, and that would make things very uncomfortable in a small van.

Instead we drove on to Glencar Lough for a light lunch (sausage rolls, almond slice, coffee) at the dog-friendly cafe there. Good, it was, too, and it sheltered us nicely from yet another torrential downpour.

We’d contemplated staying overnight there, but it just didn’t feel right, somehow, so drove on, through Sligo, to Dunmoran Beach.

There’s nowt there, but a few vans, rather bizarrely, a sauna(!), and a long and beautiful stretch of sand. And I managed to picture it during a couple of uncharacteristically dry spells.

It’ll certainly do us for the night.

Friday 12th September 2025

We awoke to the rumble of the Atlantic rollers just a few metres away, a fair bit of sunshine, and the by now obligatory rain – but only a few spots here and there.

It was a quiet night again, with only two other vans here.

It was nice to just laze around in (mostly) good weather for a change, so we were content to sit and watch the surf, eat a slow breakfast, and do a bit of planning.

After more than a week on the road in Ireland we’ve come to a few conclusions:

• There is a remarkable paucity of waste bins. We’ve been carrying our garbage for a couple of days, and being a small van, it’s taking up too much room.

• The van is too small for two full-sized two-leggeds and a medium-sized quadruped. We knew that, of course, but, y’know, try owt once, etc.
• We need a campsite for a few nights to do a bit of a reset, have decent showers, do a bit of laundry (see above two points).

All that said, we’re having a grand time in beautiful scenery, among some of the friendliest people you could wish to meet (apart from the English tourists, natch).

Heading south, then, we skirted Lough Conn and Lough Cullin – the former appearing pretty vast, before stopping in Castlebar for some Lidl provisions.

We had earlier booked into a campsite for three nights, starting tonight, at Cong, about 40km north west of Galway. On the way, we passed through Ballinrobe. Never heard of the place, but it almost seems to be the crossroads of western Ireland. There were huge traffic queues in every direction for no apparent reason other than basically there being no logic whatsoever to the layout of the roads. There appears to be an effort to route it all around the perimeter of the town centre, but no thought, or controls, at any of the junctions. As a result, it’s a free-for-all. If it were France, there’d be murders and a falling of the government!

We eventually checked in at Cong Camping around mid-afternoon; with the trip – and our arrival – marred by the inevitable return of the torrential stuff. Oh boy.

It’s an OK enough place. More of a bunkhouse kinda thing, with moho hard-standing pitches and very decent-sized hard/grass ‘awning’ pitches at the very far end. We chose the latter, and it’s certainly quiet. We’re surrounded by trees and very high hedges. But as yet there’s no sign of any Viets…

Cong was the setting for the John Ford film ‘The Quiet Man’ which starred John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara. It still plays on it, some 73 years later, with a museum dedicated to the film. Ward Bond also features in the film – a long way from Wagon Train though.

Saturday 13th September 2025

Nothing much to report. It was a dull, very wet day, so it was spent showering, reading, drinking copious quantities of T and C, and eating. And trying to avoid the rain. At least having a hook-up we have been able to use our little fan heater to keep warm instead of burning our gas supplies in the blown-air Propex. That thing IS a little beast (the Propex) heating the van very quickly, and thermostatically controlled too. Gas consumption seems moderate as well.

Sunday 14th September 2025

It really is quiet though, as everyone else in this area left this morning. Something I said? I have had a shower!

I did say to someone before we left England that I expected to return in five and a bit weeks covered in moss. I was joking of course (mostly), but I’m beginning to wonder. The falling-down-stuff appears to be in for much of the week, with the added gloss of very strong gales hooleying in tomorrow, which is when we’re supposed to be packing up…

There has been, therefore, a slight change of plan. We’ll stay here one more night (boo!) as it’s relatively safe and sheltered (compared to some exposed Atlantic coast marina or car park, at least). Tuesday appears to be a little more settled, unless that changes, so we’ll strike camp in the morning and drive into Galway city – one of the places I wanted to explore. I’m not sure there are any rocks there though, so M may not be too chuffed.

There’s one more major change to report: From the 20th, we’ll be ensconsed in a wee converted barn for a week. M has decided, quite rightly, that we need a ‘holiday’. I can’t disagree.

It looks really lovely, and is very good value for money too. It’ll give us a base to ditch the stuff out of the van, sort things properly, and also do a bit of exploring without the van being rammed with kit. It’s in an area that we are slightly familiar with (near Bantry, which we spent a day at thirty-odd years ago, while holidaying at Crookhaven, Co. Cork). It’s also close enough to the Ring of Kerry, which we haven’t done, and the Ring of Beara, which we have, but was lovely, from memory.

Looking forward to it, I must admit.

Anyway, by early afternoon, we were all pretty stir-crazy and there appeared to be a slight break in the wetness, so we decided to walk to Cong. It’s a fair step (about 5000 in the round trip according to M’s magic step-counting watch) but we welcomed the exercise.

Queen-Cong

We were under the impression that there was not much there, but it turned out to be a rather decent place to spend an hour or two. There are quite a few shops, pubs, and cafés. Lots of waterways (little Venice-ish) and ducks, and ruined church and abbey to explore.

Abbey…

…and church ruins

Of course there are the inevitable references to The Quiet Man, on various film-set houses and pub etc, plus a bronze of Wayne and O’Hara.

It’s all well-kept too, and really doesn’t feel like it’s trying too hard, neatly dispelling my earlier cynicism.

I like it!

One oddity that caught my attention was an arrangement that was supposed to be in honour of those who served during Covid, but also carried handprints of various celebs (!) mostly done before the Covid period, including David O’Donnell (a singer I believe?), a previous Rose of Tralee winner, and for some reason Pat Lam, former Samoa and NZ international and currently coach of Bristol Bears Rugby. My claim to fame now is that I have bigger hands than the All Black No.8 ☺️

Oh, and by 6.30pm we had five neighbours. I get the impression they were looking at the upcoming storm and were taking shelter. Who could blame them?

Monday 8th September 2025

A fine morning greeted us at Glenarm, but we were ready to trek northwest towards the Causeway. What a beautiful road the Causeway Coast Road is too. Sweeping panoramas across the sea as far as Scotland again. Twists and turns. Cliffs and glens. It has it all.

Reaching The Giant’s Causeway itself, you’re faced with a choice of a long walk to the area (possibly from Bushmills) or a rather hefty charge for the NT visitor centre – or a slightly lesser one from a nearby car park. We chose the latter.

It’s still a fair walk from there, but very doable.

Look how happy she is to see her pile of rocks at last

I don’t know how long it took to lay all those blocks, but whoever did it deserved their bonuses. I can’t believe Finn/Fionn did it all on his lonesome, even if he was very big-boned.

There’s a lot of it too…

We finished with a well deserved coffee at the Causeway Hotel after the mostly uphill tab back out.

M’s next agenda item was to visit her ancestral home, not far away – Dunluce Castle. I think she had plans to move in, but changed her mind when she saw the state the last residents had left it in. Tch.

A few tiles short of a roof.

From there, we kept the coast to our right as far as possible passing through Portrush and Portstewart but were forced to turn inland for several miles to skirt Coleraine and cross the River Bann there before heading north again towards tonight’s park-up at Castlerock.

Once again, it’s not exactly Blackpool (thank the Lord) but it’s pleasant enough, and has an absolutely beautiful soft-sandy beach that goes on and on. Lacy had a ball.

The park-up is not the prettiest as it’s just a small car park at the entrance to the Black Glen. It overlooks a caravan park, sadly, but at least there’s a sea view over the top of the sea of aluminium.

It’ll do for the night, however, and certainly seems quiet enough.

It’s pretty chilly though, under the clear sky. Autumn’s just around the headland (so’s Eire!) so it’s heating switched-on and shut-up-shop time.

Tuesday 9th September 2025

Cool and dull, with a few spots of H2O. Nothing like enough to dampen the follicles though.

It was a very quiet night again. I’m beginning to wonder where the youth of Ireland do their doughnuts and boom-boom music – but complain I not.

We set off at around 11, heading for Derry’s bypass road that cuts across the mighty Foyle River (and it really is wide just there) at the foot end of what I take to be the second largest lough. First stop; Muff, right on the border just north of Derry, for fuel and coffee at the very well appointed Spar. Perhaps we should’ve filled the tank in NI, as I think it’s cheaper there, but I haven’t worked the conversion. I probably won’t either, as it’s done now.

Next stop – at the other end of the Inishowen peninsula – Malin Head. Northernmost point of Ireland, and the beginning (or indeed end) of the Wild Atlantic Way.

That’s what it says (you can just pick out the van in the background).

We’d originally intended to pick up the WAW a bit further down, but we kinda accidentally ended up here, so it’s nice to be able to do the whole thing, from here to Cork-way.

We’ll also take in Mizen Head (brings back great memories of a wonderful holiday around those parts when the girls were young) thus completing the North-South traverse of the island.

View from the Head

A quick sandwich lunch in the van later, and we were off back the way we came, right-turning just south of Malin village, en-route to Tullagh Bay beach for another very wild park-up overlooking the whole length of this beautiful strand. Surrounded by mountains and crashing waves just feet away, it’s pretty perfect here..

One thing. Having returned to the Republic, we’ve once again lost the use of our cheapo tracker, which relies on a 2g signal. Guess what? EE have already shut down their 2g service here, so that’s done for that.

Oh well; just Polar Steps routes from now on then… Poor show. Sorry!

Saturday 6th September 2025

Even though last night’s park-up was near-perfect; scenic and peaceful, we thought this morning was time to move on and recover a little of our disrupted schedule, such as it is.

Erne to Glenarm (and Mull of Kintyre, SW Scotland, in the top RH corner…)

Enniskillen to Glenarm is a fair schlep from (near) the west coast to County Antrim’s east coast. The roads are decent enough, though (except when that bleddy Google Maps doesn’t know what it’s doing. Nothing unusual there) and with a late start and a stop in Omagh’s Lidl for provisions, we saw the sea around mid-afternoon.

Sure and you know you’re in Ireland when there are cars randomly parked in the middle of the road

Glenarm is pretty enough, although there’s little here. What it does have, though, is otters browsing for their supper in the harbour water below (not a good photo opportunity, sadly, as it’s just too dark) as we eat our own pasta supper. It also has a view of the the Mull of Kintyre.

Mull of Kintyre from the harbour wall

Surprisingly close it is too, and clearly visible now the mistiness of earlier has cleared.

Northern Ireland Tourist Board approved, I’ll have you know! (Maybe thirty years ago…)

There’s also a burger van, which smells good, if that’s your thing (and the coffee was pretty decent and very cheap). And apparently you can order takeaways for delivery in the pubs, which are very happy for you to consume them there (Chinese food is no doubt good for the beer trade!).

We’ve settled for the night at the Glenarm Marina, which welcomes motorhomes and campervans, with pretty decent facilities, and is totally free. Take note England, as I may well have said before…

Nice, long, beach. We’re at the far end – arrowed. Beach is much sandier at that end

All being well, we’ll stay here tomorrow night too before making our way along the Causeway road on Monday.

Glenarm Marina by night.

Sunday 7th September 2025

What a miserable day, weather-wise. Heavy rain or drizzle most of the time, with short spells of slight brighness (and that’s being kind to it).

We walked up to the tea rooms in the castle grounds, but… no dags!

So we walked back into the village and spent our money in the Cove Café instead. What a difference. A warm welcome, plenty of tables, good coffee, and great cakes. And they were obviously dog lovers. Highly recommended.

The rest of the afternoon was just spent hunkered down in the van, reading, drinking tea and coffee, and generally avoiding the weather. Her Lacyship looked fit to burst though. Poor thing just wants to run on the beach. Too wet, too windy, and too tide-in though.

And that was pretty much Sunday. Tomorrow, we roll north and west along the lovely Antrim coast, hopefully in slightly better weather.