After another Irish breakfast -- fried slice?!? -- we headed for the hills, specifically for the highest cliff face in Europe. (How does the tourist industry invent these categories?)
Lots of tight corners and Don's careful driving until we reached a car park. We decided to walk up to the viewing point ( I'm not sure why!). It was a couple of kilometres up a steep and winding road. Great views but exhausting.
Grazing sheep watched us labour up the steep stretches to the viewing point.
Sue's right foot resisted the various treks leading off from the cliffs, and we instead moved to our next destination -- the village of Glencolumbkille. This is a cooperative display of dwellings from the 18th, 19th and 20th centuries, created as one of a series of community development efforts to keep the village alive.
A hearty vegetable soup for lunch! And plunger coffee to boot.
On the way to Sligo, the remarkable Benennis? Benbannon? Benelton? near which Yeats is buried.
Radisson Blu for two nights. Confit of duck. Yum!
- Posted using stylish Scandinavian wifi.
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