Destination: Donegal the wildness of Ireland

The Irish county of Donegal on the north-western side of the island is known for its wild, unfettered rolling hills and jagged coastline. Over St. Patrick’s Day I decided to venture out from Belfast into the sparsely populated and overtly stunning Donegal, to celebrate Ireland and all her beauty. The first stop was the cliffs of Slieve League, the highest sea cliffs in Europe, which are three times the height of Ireland’s famed Cliffs of Moher. The sheer size of the cliffs took my breath away; I have not been anywhere that has pressed upon just how small I was, and how vast the world around me is. The cliffs are best seen from a paved walk across from them, and from there they are shown to their full extent. Towering and jutting out into the choppy Atlantic, not only are they impressive in size but the never-ceasing crashing of the waves fills the air with the roar of the surf. The salty sea air cleansed my soul, and the view inspired a deep sense of stillness, despite my own feeling of insignificance. 

For the majority of our trip the weather was dark and stormy, which only added to the untamed nature of the area. Luckily, we were staying in a cozy and compact cabin in the heart of Donegal. The cabin, with its woodburning fireplace and a small black cat who spent most mornings curled up on my lap, was the quintessential Irish cottage. Large windows lined one side, looking out to the surrounding hills and filling the room with light. We ventured out one morning to Glenveagh National Park in the centre of the county, amidst a torrential downpour and high winds. We explored a lough in the park and stopped for a warming cup of tea in the castle that rested on its banks, then climbed a surrounding hill despite the gale to take in the views.

On our way back to Belfast we made a final stop at Slieve League, only to find the cliffs completely covered by a thick layer of fog. Despite the lack of any view, the fog did not deter us from hiking around the top of the cliffs on the roughly hewn stone steps. The weather did nothing to muffle the crashing surf, which was my only reminder of the breadth of the cliffs below me. Even though the weather was less than perfect, the beauty and wildness of Donegal never fails to inspire me to leave the city more often in search of the untamed corners of Ireland.