The Meadows Camping Site, Gortin, County Tyrone, Ulster

                  

Today we made the best of the decent weather before the rain arrived earlier than forecasted, which was just as well because our itinerary was all about enjoying wide landscapes, always best appreciated in good weather.

We left our camp early, or at least early for a Saturday when everyone else seemed a whole lot more relaxed. Our journey took us back out onto the main A5 arterial route, then westerly across the country on a series of roads, more minor than major, across the border at Clady into County Donegal, through the lovely rural surrounds of  Stranorlar and Ballybofey, then up the Finn River all the way to Fintown on the banks of Lough Finn before heading into the more desolate dramatic landscapes  immediately to the west, where the road descended sharply down to Doochary. Here we turned more northerly, on a road described as “tortuous”, but for us from New Zealand, a road that would normally be gravel track up through remote stretches of mountainous terrain, the sort we are quite comfortable with.  We were surprised at the number of dwellings that lined the road after leaving Doochary, although they were better described as shacks than “dwellings”. Here too were the remains of stone structures once home to families in past centuries, perhaps vacated during the Great Famine.

Soon we arrived at the boundary of the Glenveagh National Park, and here there seemed little but the natural wild geology, the odd sheep and the circling of the odd bird of prey.

The Park, established in 1986, covers an area of 16,540 hectares, comprising mountains, lakes, bogs, glens and woodland, as well as a herd of red deer which we never did catch sight of. It lies among the Derryveagh mountains, with two of the highest peaks in Donegal, Errigal at 752 metres ASL and Slieve Snacht at 683 metres. In places water poured out of the hills, a result of the overnight rain, and probably because so much of this land is like a giant sponge. 

Our approach from the south was the less popular route, but surely the most spectacular. High above Lough Gartan, our road swooped around to the east, bringing us down to the lake edge and a surprising number of residences. Not far from here we pulled into Glebe House and Gallery, too early for the opening of the tearoom, the gallery or the house. Instead we wandered about the lovely garden, through the well-established trees and down to the lake edge, admiring the exterior of the rather grand residence and the gallery precinct graced with climbing flowering plants and glorious floral borders.

When the gallery opened at 11 am, we spent time wandering around the rather quirky temporary exhibition, much of it various versions of the old school satchel. The receptionist lent us a book all about Derek Hall, the portraitist who occupied the house yet to be explored and worked in the gallery where we stood.

Hall, born in England in 1916, moved into the property in 1953 after having made the acquaintance of American Henry McIlhenny, whom he met in Italy, each of them directors of separate art academies. McIlhenny had purchased Glenveagh Castle in 1937 and when Hall came to Ireland to visit with his friend, he was captivated by the area, and did what anyone would do in such circumstance: buy property nearby.

Hall remained in residence here for thirty years, taking trips away from time to time to fulfil commissions worldwide, before giving the entire property, lock, stock and barrel to the people of Ireland. He moved into a cottage down in the garden and for some years used to tack onto the edge of tour parties, anonymously, to learn what guides and guests had to say about his treasured house, work and memory.

He died in 2000, but not before instilling our guide today with a great admiration and love for his very eccentric character. Over his life he had acquired a great collection of art and artefacts, some amazingly valuable and some simply to appease or encourage fellow artists.

Today the property is looked after by OPW, and as such offered free entry for us, and with only one other couple in the party, our tour was a rather private affair. We were delighted.

From here it was not too far on to the north entrance to the National Park, or more particularly,  the Visitor Centre. There is much to be learned here about the fauna and flora to be found in the Park, as well as the usual geology and history of the property. This history is not a happy one, or at least the last few hundred years revealed here. 

The estate of Glenveagh was formed in 1857-9 with the purchase of several small holdings by John George Adair from County Laois. Adair subsequently became infamous throughout Donegal, in fact throughout the island if the newspaper clippings are to be believed, for evicting some two hundred and forty four tenants in the cold April of 1861. Most of the eviction took place on the edge of the estate, along the shore of Lough Gartan and many of the dispossessed in time, made their way to Australia. Others were taken in by relatives or were forced to go to the workhouse.

By the middle of the 19^th century, wealthy landlords owned most of the land in Ireland, but it was worked by large families of landless labourers who lived in scattered villages of mud and stone huts. Each tenant farmer, by working for his landlord, was allowed to cultivate a small plot of land to grow potatoes, that all important all-in-one food stuff.

Adair, like many landlords of the time, wanted to make farming more efficient. To do this he needed to break up the communities and convert the mountain commonage to commercial sheep farming.

This is in fact similar to the Clearances that occurred in Scotland, however in the most part the Scottish land owners did make some effort to set up alternative industries to occupy the displaced people, such as herring villages along the coastline.

Adair, on the other hand was not interested. He put the rents up by 33%, accused the people en masse of being murderers and drove them out by physically demolishing their dwellings leaving them homeless. Initially these people headed for the workhouses, but when they learned the remaining folk with even the smallest land holdings would have to reach into their own pockets to supply the finance for the workhouse maintenance, rather than Adair, many stayed away from the institutions which may have been able to provide some relief.

Adair died in 1885 but his wife survived until 1921 and unlike her husband, is remembered as a kind a generous person. After her death, Glenveagh fell into decline until it was purchased in 1929 by Professor Arthur Kinsley Porter of Harvard who disappeared in 1933 in rather mysterious circumstances.

The last private owner was Henry McIlhenny, the mate of Derek Hall, and in 1975, the lands of Glenveagh were bought by the state. Six years later, McIlhenny presented the Castle and the gardens to the Irish nation. Further land has since been purchased to conserve additional areas of significant natural value.

The castle stands on a promontory jutting into Lough Veagh and was built between 1867 and 1873 from designs by John Townsend Trench, a cousin of Adair. It can be accessed on foot, a four kilometre walk half way up the lake, or by the shuttle bus that charges a nominal fee for the convenience. We walked to the castle, enjoying the views out over the lake and the mountains beyond, then arriving at the castle, wandered about the gardens which are indeed quite wonderful. By now the afternoon was well on and we had quite a distance to travel home again, so caught the shuttle back to the Visitor Centre.

Our trip home was slowed by the rain that set in, a great number of tractors on the road and several long sections of road works guarded by traffic lights, even on this Saturday afternoon.

We travelled back via Letterkenny and Strabane where we called into the Asda supermarket, shopping for a few items and refuelling with diesel.

Dinner was late and it was later again that Helena and her lovely daughter popped in to check our satisfaction levels. We told her about our day and she came up with several options to fill the next few days; the problem with that was there is so much to see and we are here for only three more touring days. Again we discussed the life and times of this fascinating country and the people who live here, not noticing the lateness of the hour. I am not good with late nights.