It was drizzling when we pulled out of
our seaside camp at Salthill, although the weather did improve marginally as we
headed through Sligo and headed eastward on the N16, through a valley between
the Dartry Mountains to the north and Crockauns to the south, hemmed in by high
cliffs and splendid scenery. Soon we crossed into County Leitrim, offering more
of the same lush and spectacular scenery, through the small rural township of
Manorhamilton, with a different set of mountains flanking the route.
As we came down to Glenfarne on the
eastern edge of Leitrim, we looked for a pull off spot, sure we would find
something along the lake edges that reached toward the road. Now in a northern
section of County Cavan, we settled on the top edge of a steep layby above
Lough Macnean and stepped out on an unspeakable mess of excrement, possibly
squashed baby’s napkins, possibly worse. What animals some people are! However
we were in need of a break and there seemed to be little on offer, so we
stepped around it all and closeted ourselves inside the caravan away from the
tip outside.
An hour later when we continued on, we
soon came to several more suitable rest areas, all more level and all surely
more hygienic. Such are the problems of towing and not knowing the road ahead.
But I will say that there has generally been a paucity of laybys on Irish
roads, and when they are there, there is absolutely no pre-warning of their
existence. With a caravan behind, keeping up a good speed so as to minimise
fellow drivers’ frustrations, there is little hope of safely pulling in.
Soon we arrived at Blacklion, and
crossed the bridged river which forms the international border, to Belcoo. We
were greeted by no sign to remind us we had left the Republic and arrived in
the United Kingdom, no “Welcome to County Fermanagh” or any official interested
to check our passports. Of course for the moment we were simply crossing from
one EU country into another, and here is one of the major blocks to the Brexit
negotiation: what border checks should there be at these borders; either
customs or immigration? I understand why the Irish have issue about this, but
for myself, a foreigner from DownUnder, it makes sense that my entry from one
foreign country to another be monitored.
We continued on toward Enniskillen,
but turned north on a minor road to cut across the corner between the A49
(previously the N16) and the A46, emerging from an even more minor road onto
that A46 which runs up the western side of Upper Lough Erne. The road passed
through lovely forest until we emerged at Blaney, location of our camping ground,
not to be confused with Blarney down in County Cork.
This is a lovely camp, the ground more
manicured than the previous camp among the sand hills. We are eight miles from
Enniskillen back down at the southern end of the lake, and a mere half hour from
Donegal, however subsequent research has confirmed that exploration of that
County back in the Republic will be an onerous project, both for time and
distance.
Crossing the border means we had to
change our Tomtom from Ireland to United Kingdom, and we should also change the
kilometres to miles, however we intend to be travelling back and forward
between the two countries over the next week. It also means that here we are
now dealing in Stirling rather than euro, but will need to have both currencies
to hand, depending which side of the border we are when we choose to spend.
After a late lunch this afternoon,
Chris suggested we head through to the nearest village, Derrygonnelly, where
there is a Costcutter that provided us with the ever necessary potatoes. (It is
not just the historical Irish who eat great quantities of these; we are
amazingly large consumers of this multi-nutritional vegetable.)
From here we set off on a Forest Drive
recommended by our host here at the camp, a delightful drive up into the Lough
Navar Forest, part of the Marble Arch Caves Global Geopark. The forest covers
an area of 2,600 hectares of bog, heath, woodland and open water, and is
dominated by coniferous woodland with pockets of ancient native woodland.
There are several viewpoints along the
route, much of it along a narrow one way sealed road, the first of these, the
Aghameelan Viewpoint, from where we had views across the forest and the lake
toward Enniskillen and south east toward the imposing cliffs of Knockmore.
A little further on we came across an
ambulance and men standing about in fluoro vests. They were satisfied we were
heading for the lookout - were we? We were totally ignorant of where we were
heading, given all these forestry roads did not show on our map. But we did
continue on and emerged on to a viewpoint high above the shores of Lough Erne,
scenes up and down all breathtakingly impressive. We lingered here on the Magho
Cliffs 300 metres above the lake, the expansive countryside of Fermanagh,
Tyrone, Sligo and Donegal all within view.
Back down the forestry road, we came
aware that we were in the middle of a transitional stage of a rally, and the
further ambulances and rescue vehicles parked up beside the road were awaiting
exciting action. Truth be told, a rally is always most exciting when life is
played on the edge.
When we did emerge back on to the
map-marked roads and head back to camp, we passed at least eleven rally cars
making their way at speed, toward the forest road race stage, and as we sat
over our afternoon coffee, we heard more grunty racing machines, those bringing
up the rear, passing along the main road.
Alas we have learned that the free
wifi is hard to access and that cellphone contact generally is poor, but, joy
of joys! my O2 internet is operational again.
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