Travel Notes: County Donegal — Day 10 & 11
Road Trip, Part 2
20 September 2009
Aloha Friends & Family,
Okay campers—time to catch you up!
I spent Thursday driving around the Inishowen Peninsula. My original plan was to complete the entire coastal loop. Turns out the scenic drive—called the Inishowen 100—is, in fact, about 100 miles long (at least according to the woman at the Tourist Information office in Buncrana).
A quick tangent (because it matters)
Ireland’s Tourist Information Offices—or TIs—are everywhere: in major cities, small towns, and many villages. They offer maps, advice, and planning help for free, charging only a small fee if they book accommodations for you. I’ve used TIs in Dublin, Letterkenny, Buncrana, and Donegal.
The service is outstanding.
Are you listening, Hawaiʻi?
North to the edge of Ireland
I didn’t finish the full Inishowen loop—but I did accomplish one major goal. I reached Malin Head, the northernmost point in all of Ireland (Northern Ireland included). Standing there, with nothing between me and the Arctic Circle, the wind felt like it. Brrrr! But the views were incredible—awesome—wish you could have been there.
Let’s rewind.
I started the day with another wonderful breakfast prepared by Martin, the owner of Hillcrest House B&B, where I stayed Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights. Martin is a chef and an exceptional host. Hillcrest House feels like a home: cozy lounge chairs, a bright dining room, and a clean, comfortable en suite bedroom.
Every review on TripAdvisor claimed Hillcrest House is the best B&B in Ireland. I can’t vouch for all of Ireland—but I can say Martin’s hospitality is among the best I’ve experienced anywhere. Working in tourism in Hawaiʻi, I know the difference a host makes. If Martin lived in Hawaiʻi, he’d absolutely be one of our preferred vendors.
He understands that people dream about—and save for—this trip. He makes sure guests feel well looked after: printing maps, offering directions, helping plan routes, and even pointing me toward a laundry service where I dropped off clothes in the morning and picked them up clean, dried, and folded later that same day. Heaven!
When you make it to Letterkenny, County Donegal—the only place to stay is Hillcrest House.
Sacred ground and sweeping views
After breakfast and laundry drop-off, I drove toward Derry to my first stop: Grianán of Aileach, a stone ring fort built atop an ancient pagan site by the O’Neill family, restored in the 1870s.
As I drove up, I got goosebumps (or chicken skin for my Hawaiʻi readers). Whether it was the sacredness of the site or the realization of a long-held dream, I don’t know—but standing there, walking the fort, feeling the history in person, was powerful.
From the top of the fort’s stone walls, the views stretched across Lough Swilly. The sign said that on a clear day you can see five counties in Ulster. It was a clear day—so I suppose I did.
Coastal roads, sheep, and freedom
From there, I continued onto the Inishowen Peninsula, stopping again at the TI in Buncrana to prioritize my route—important, since my laundry closed at 7:00 p.m., and I needed socks for the next day!
I followed the coast road, enjoying views across Lough Swilly toward the Fanad Peninsula, passing farms and villages along the way. By this point, driving on the left was starting to feel… normal-ish.
My road-trip soundtrack has included Gaelic Storm, Enya (a Donegal native), Secret Garden, and Celtic Woman. Excellent driving music.
One of my favorite moments: a sheep wagged his woolly little tail at me as I drove by. I laughed out loud—and only later wondered why he’d wagged it. I decided I didn’t want to know.
Living in Hawaiʻi, people sometimes say they wish they could just drive. This road trip has given me that freedom—choosing a direction, stopping when I want, going where curiosity leads. It’s exhilarating.
Mountains, memory, and meaning
Driving inland, I found myself alongside the Urris Mountains, then climbing toward the Gap of Mamore. I stopped to take photos on both sides of the road.
While there, I encountered a phase of an All-Ireland bike ride—support cars, cyclists, and a woman calmly waiting for her two brothers… while having no idea where her father was. Perfectly Irish.
Descending the pass, I came upon a roadside shrine. Later research revealed it commemorates ancient worship practices—another layer of history quietly held in the landscape.
The view toward the sea from the Gap of Mamore was spectacular. It made me want to paint. If I were a painter, this would be the scene.
Famine, reflection, and empathy
My next stop was Dooey Famine Village. What I expected to be a short visit turned into three hours of reflection.
Learning how famine still exists today—structured by systems that deny people access to their own food—left me asking: How can I help make the world better? I’m still sitting with that question.
Music, fire, and farewell
Friday and Saturday unfolded more gently: Doe Castle, Glenveagh National Park, weddings in village streets, and a stop at Leo’s Tavern—Enya’s family pub—where I warmed myself by a peat fire and chatted with a university student heading to Aberdeen.
By Saturday evening, I arrived at my next B&B in Rossnowlagh, overlooking the Atlantic. Surfers were still catching waves at sunset, wrapped in wetsuits against the cold.
This has been a long note—thank you for staying with me. And thank you for all your messages. I’m so glad you’re enjoying these stories from the road.
I fly home on Wednesday.
More later,
Love,
TJ