Full up on breakfast, I headed off on the Ulster Way. No waymarks today as it is not a "quality" section, but one "linking" parts considered better (Walk Northern Ireland's designations not mine). Most of the day was on very quiet roads (maybe partly as it was Easter Sunday), most vehicles were farmers in cars pulling a small trailer (possibly for a sheep or a sheepdog) or on a tractor with a bale of hay. Not the most direct route, the Ulster Way (and the Cycle Route 91 which it seemed to follow) was avoiding the busy main road from Belleek to Pettigo as far as it could. As such it moved in and out of the Republic, one could see why during the "troubles" this was such a difficult border to police with so many crossings. At times, on entering the Republic signs advised driving on the left in three different languages making one wonder which side they were driving in Northern Ireland. Not an exciting walk, especially as it rained most of the day with varying intensity, thankfully mostly gently. Nevertheless, my attention was attracted to the hedgerows beside the road. Hawthorn, just revealing bright green leaves contrasted with the dark green of the holly. Sloe was in white blossom, brambles looked like they would be vicious later in the season, snagging your clothes or bare legs as the grew into the road. Primroses, dandelions and celandine splashed yellow highlights on the green of the verge, white anemones colonised some of the banks. Looking closely I could see the tiny flowers of violets. Low walls were so covered with bright green moss, ferns and grass that the boulders of which I assumed they were once constructed were now invisible. Patches of gorse in massive yellow flower added brilliance even on a day as dull as today. Fields were darker shades of green where rushes predominated or a golden green in improved areas as the new grass pushed through the old. Moorland was straw coloured, russet or mottled brown by apparently dead clumps of heather.
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| A road walk today, but on little used roads. |
Several lakes, or loughs in the local parlance, were close by the road. One I was able to sit by on a gravelly beach, enjoying my lunch while gazing at the peaty brown water. However most were behind fencing, all of Ireland it seems, jealously guards its private property. A more enlightened farmer perhaps, allowed access through their field to the meagre ruins of Keenaghan Abbey standing by one lough. Dating from the 12th century only the walls of the church remained. Beside it were graves, including one commemorating a "Fenian" who died as a result of opposing the British. Later, on the roadside, there was a memorial to Republican fighters killed in the more recent troubles.
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| A lough beside the road, inaccessible behind a fence. |
Accommodation in Pettigo was all booked up, being the Easter holidays perhaps to be expected. So I am wild camping before the village, well before as I wanted to take advantage of possible camping spots in the conifer forests and moorland before entering farmland and more populated areas nearer the village. Finding a forest track with saplings growing up the middle I turned into it, confident that I was unlikely to be disturbed. However the area around the compressed stone of the track was waterlogged and uneven with rough tussocks of grass and rushes, making it unsuitable for pitching my tent on. A little further on, under a patch of beech saplings, unusual among the tight lines of conifers, there seemed enough flat space, that was merely damp rather than wet, for me to pitch my tent. As I began, having emptied my rucksack to retrieve the tent, a sudden, very heavy shower of rain fell, an outpouring of the heavens, soaking my tent. I had taken care to ensure the contents of my rucksacks were all in dry bags (now very wet in the outside), but the speed at which I erected the tent in the limited space so that I could shelter myself and my belongings, meant that its shape was somewhat distorted...and the ground proved not quite as flat as I expected.
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| An old customs post, a sign I was repeatedly crossing the border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland. |
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