In true motorhoming fashion, we threw some things into Helga, and drove away from the house. No set route, no plans, and some would say, no fekkin’ sense.
We drove west; from Bleary,
I’d a notion to drive down part of the “Wild Atlantic Way”. Heading towards Omagh, through Strabane, Lifford, Ballybofey and Ardara, passing through Glenties, we loved the scenery and from our slightly loftier viewpoint, more of it.
Our first stop was Ardara, we pulled off the road to get the POI maps from motorhomecraic.com, but the bloody dongle wanted a password I’d no recollection of installing.
No idea where to park up, I took the executive decision to head for Killybegs, for no other reason than I’d heard people talking about it.
After trawling, pardon the pun, through Killybegs we didn’t find a suitable parking place, but soon realized it was home to Irelands largest fishing fleet. A mental note was made to stop for a while on the way back through, in the hope of getting some reasonably priced fish for Wednesday nights curry night.
Anyway, back to basics. We drove on through for five kilometres, heading along the pre-determined road and soon found a sign for a beach.
The nearest village is Tullig, and the beach sits on Fintragh Bay. When we arrived, via a very steep downward hill, there was one German campervan and two cars in the fairly large carpark. Not only them, but a row of three very clean portaloos, recycling point and a sign stating no overnighting on the beach. No mention of the car park however and there is a sign telling all, that video surveillance is in operation 24/7.
There might have been a bit of trepidation, since this was our first night away, in the motorhome, wild camping, but it soon vanished like our footprints on the sand which was only about twelve feet from the front of Helga. After dinner, we walked the length of the bay, and as we got to the far end it was quite dark. I think Margaret was getting nervous and had visions of us getting washed out to sea! On our return along the beach we fell in with some locals walking their dog. Not divulging this was our virginal outing, I asked them about our location. Apparently it is always quiet, but obviously busier in summer. They’ve never heard of any bother down on the beach, and they love welcoming visiting motorhomers. Long may that continue. Sitting on the low wall at the carpark we watched part of the fleet steaming off to their fishing grounds, their lights like fireflies darting along the horizon.
Back into Helga, it was remarkably mild outside, which made our return a bit of an anti-climax, although it was warm enough indoors, the mild evening air lessened its impact. A couple of drinks and off to bed, slightly excited at the sound of breaking waves, in front of us, along with the idea we would be sleeping in comfort and not having to pay!
After a fabulous sleep, we awoke to open the front blinds. We hadn’t been dreaming. The beach was as beautiful as it had been last night, the solitude, amazing. I’m almost reluctant to tell people about this wonderful place, wanting to hold on to its quiet beauty, but needs must.
As our first time wilding, I don’t think we could have found a better spot, and as Margaret said, “ This will probably spoil us now, for the rest of our trips”.
Or do you know better?
We drove west; from Bleary,
I’d a notion to drive down part of the “Wild Atlantic Way”. Heading towards Omagh, through Strabane, Lifford, Ballybofey and Ardara, passing through Glenties, we loved the scenery and from our slightly loftier viewpoint, more of it.
Our first stop was Ardara, we pulled off the road to get the POI maps from motorhomecraic.com, but the bloody dongle wanted a password I’d no recollection of installing.
No idea where to park up, I took the executive decision to head for Killybegs, for no other reason than I’d heard people talking about it.
After trawling, pardon the pun, through Killybegs we didn’t find a suitable parking place, but soon realized it was home to Irelands largest fishing fleet. A mental note was made to stop for a while on the way back through, in the hope of getting some reasonably priced fish for Wednesday nights curry night.
Anyway, back to basics. We drove on through for five kilometres, heading along the pre-determined road and soon found a sign for a beach.
The nearest village is Tullig, and the beach sits on Fintragh Bay. When we arrived, via a very steep downward hill, there was one German campervan and two cars in the fairly large carpark. Not only them, but a row of three very clean portaloos, recycling point and a sign stating no overnighting on the beach. No mention of the car park however and there is a sign telling all, that video surveillance is in operation 24/7.
There might have been a bit of trepidation, since this was our first night away, in the motorhome, wild camping, but it soon vanished like our footprints on the sand which was only about twelve feet from the front of Helga. After dinner, we walked the length of the bay, and as we got to the far end it was quite dark. I think Margaret was getting nervous and had visions of us getting washed out to sea! On our return along the beach we fell in with some locals walking their dog. Not divulging this was our virginal outing, I asked them about our location. Apparently it is always quiet, but obviously busier in summer. They’ve never heard of any bother down on the beach, and they love welcoming visiting motorhomers. Long may that continue. Sitting on the low wall at the carpark we watched part of the fleet steaming off to their fishing grounds, their lights like fireflies darting along the horizon.
Back into Helga, it was remarkably mild outside, which made our return a bit of an anti-climax, although it was warm enough indoors, the mild evening air lessened its impact. A couple of drinks and off to bed, slightly excited at the sound of breaking waves, in front of us, along with the idea we would be sleeping in comfort and not having to pay!
After a fabulous sleep, we awoke to open the front blinds. We hadn’t been dreaming. The beach was as beautiful as it had been last night, the solitude, amazing. I’m almost reluctant to tell people about this wonderful place, wanting to hold on to its quiet beauty, but needs must.
As our first time wilding, I don’t think we could have found a better spot, and as Margaret said, “ This will probably spoil us now, for the rest of our trips”.
Or do you know better?
