Our departure from that excellent
little camp in Blaney was straight forward, in decent weather but probably
earlier than practical. The journey north was a short one, to take less than an
hour and a half, and always aware that we should not arrive at the new location
before midday, we had to hang about somewhere along the route.
Today’s road was east to Enniskillen,
then west again, duplicating a small portion of yesterday’s route, before
turning in a general northerly direction through Irvinestown where we crossed
the county border into Tyrone, across lovely pastoral countryside to Omagh, on
up to Newtownstewart, which we had initially understood to be our destination.
The reality was a little different although not so far away; The Meadows campsite is very near
Gortin, on the northern slopes of Curraghchosaly Mountain, this rising to 418
metres ASL.
We pulled into the site, marked as
being a “hideaway” in our camp directory, and tucked below the road, with bird
filled trees behind and views down to the Owenkillew River before us. There was
one other caravan in residence when we arrived, although the residents were obviously
touring the greater countryside as we wish to do tomorrow.
As with many Camping & Caravan
Club sites, this has the waste disposal facilities, a toilet, a quaint little
information cupboard and a shower, the latter most unexpected. There are also
several outdoor chairs scattered about from where one might enjoy the birdsong
and fresh air.
Once set up, we headed back down the
road to our host’s residence, details clearly explained in that little cupboard,
but found they were all out on the farm dealing with more important matters
than self-sufficient campers.
Instead we set off on a drive up into
the heights above the valley, up through narrow farm lanes and serious working
farms, then back down to Gortin which boasts a population of a mere 360
inhabitants. Ascertaining that there was a post office cum general store from
which we might buy milk and newspapers, we headed south along the B48 up toward
the Gortin Glen Forest Park. There are several parking spots off the main road
from where one might set out across the heather clad bogs and moors, or at the
very least, like us, take a few photos of the beautiful landscape laid out
beneath us.
We continued on, over the saddle and turned briefly into the
formal entry of the Park; here we learned we would be up for £4 to drive on
through. Given we wished only to pass through rather than pause to enjoy the
walks on offer, we decided instead to continue on down the B48 before turning
north west through more farmland, finally reaching Newtownstewart, a small township
with almost 1,500 inhabitants which supports the one small SPAR superette, no doubt
offering a little more than the Gortin Post Office.
From here we headed east again, along that towing route to camp, pausing
again at our host’s farmhouse hoping to catch them in. We did indeed, and what
a grand welcome we received from Helena and later her husband, Robert, when he
came in for a quick cuppa before venturing out for the second milking. Helena
was very excited to learn we were from New Zealand and spent some time telling
us about her month long trip taken between her second and third child, now some
years ago but no less fresh in her memory. I am sure we spent at least an hour
with her, enjoying her company, the coffee and the conversation that skirted
around many subjects beyond her travel memories.
When we finally did get away after having paid the appropriate tariff
for our planned stay, we were soon joined by our fellow caravanners and a motor-homing
family who completed our quiet group for the night.
Conversation around our own itinerary have arrived at decisions,
then been turned on their head by further information, decided upon yet again,
and now as I write this, still in the air, but will surely be decided upon over
breakfast tomorrow.
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