Wild Northwest Ireland

We spent an entire day weaving from little farm route to little farm route through little farm routes, from the bottom right corner of the country top the top left. The geometric patchwork of neatly hedged fields gradually gave way to stone-walled higgledy-piggledy enclosures in increasingly craggy, jagged, dare we say mountainous, environs.

Trails and rocks perfect for adventurous day hikes and impromptu scamperings and…

Oops. I stepped on a rock hiding in the tall grasses and sprained a ligament in my foot. So…

We found beaches where people could explore (including one with a 30% grade road down to it — never seen that sign before!).

(Like, immense beaches. Immense.)

And a castle (still intact) shrouded in scandals and mysteries and beauty. With gorgeous sprawling gardens and a cozy tea room for the rainy afternoon.

And a lake where people have been skipping rocks for hundreds of years (which is why I presume there weren’t any left for us).

Some convalescence also gave us a good excuse to try out a local establishment for some Guinness, orange squashes, and pub food over a World Cup game (the US won this match 13-0).

It wasn’t the trip we had planned for this week. But, gee, we made do. And my foot is getting better every day!

Now to Northern Ireland to begin our trip through the UK (our last country to visit!).