Knockalla in the clouds - It's all over

Click on this image for our track in Google Maps

Much later than I'd like. But then again, this seems to be becoming a habit...

I was on a roll with a project of mine, which I was smoothly letting unroll whilst making tremendous strides. But suddenly, I had to stop in my tracks as I had no choice but to ask others for help.

As a programmer, when you're in the groove, this is your worst nightmare ...

The reason asking for help is such a showstopper is not because one may be inclined to loathe people (well, at least, not entirely) or because it forces you to communicate with other mortals (which isn't that big a deal) but rather because, once you leave the zone you find that everybody else is just too damn slow to catch up and even worse, if you are an experienced programmer, that the folks you ask for help might need much convincing before they come to the realization that, if you used the last resort of asking for their help, it's because the issue you encountered resides squarely on their side and is entirely theirs to fix.

Bottom line; by the time they do catch up with you, if they ever do catch up with you, it's going to be way, way too late...

In other words, help, if it arrives at all, is going to be as meaningless as an intelligence telegram announcing that Pearl Harbour might be attacked... that only gets dispatched hours after the actual attack. And that's why my friends, as a diligent software developer, if you do reach a point where you have no choice but to ask for help, you're screwed.

So this is frustrating. Most likely, I am going to have to waste tons resources and time to prove to some guys, who probably are going to reject it at first (Note, since I am writing this with much delay; this is exactly what happened), that the issue is entirely theirs to solve, on top of the injury of no longer being able to progress on that project at all, since, if had any kind of workaround, I wouldn't be bothering to ask for assistance. I don't necessarily hold a grudge towards the people trying to help, but I can't help but feel a tad annoyed when I have to point to some people, 3 times in a row (which, there too, is exactly what happened) that their dismissive "analysis" of the issue being squarely on my end is way off mark.

What's that saying again? "Show me a medical student who only triples my work and I will kiss his feet"? Well, show me a group of framework developers that only triples my work, and I will sing their praise until the end of times...

So, yeah, pardon me for feeling a bit depressed after seeing that much effort come to an untimely premature end, as well as anticipating the much greater endeavour I'm going to have to devote resources to in order to have a bunch of people finally realize that they dug everybody into a ditch.

The other end result of the above is that I am not that entirely willing to go for a walk (or even blogging about it) especially when, there's an abundance of low clouds and drizzle today, that doesn't exactly help with the overall mood...

Yeah, everything's moody alright.

Still, if we must go, let's go. Besides, what else am I going to spend the rest of my afternoon on, now?

And since our whole world has just been toggled back to "slow", our start for this walk will be a slow one as well on account of... blackberries. This is a blackberry spot after all, and I haven't had my fill this year either. Alas, even this late in the season, most of them are still not ripe enough.

Next year, maybe. Next year, maybe...

In case you haven't noticed, I'm in a bad mood, so don't you get started about my horizon being crooked.

Now, I am quite familiar with this place, which I picked because it's too late to go to exploring new horizons. I do happen to come here very often after all since it's one of these places that's close to home, yet isolated enough enough for my taste (as long as you discount the ever present sheep grazing around) and with enough of a climb to keep a lone wanderer satisfied.

As a matter of fact, because of the frequency with which I climb here, I am going to try for an alternate route to the summit today, so as to introduce some much needed change to this dull routine of yet another pointless day. The hope is that this might bring a little bit of much needed fun into what has turned out to be a dull grey affair, especially once we start to reach the gap. However, that gap is something we can't see right now, on account the clouds engulfed it. Still, with the barrage of visitors I've had lately, I haven't done much strenuous walking of late so, regardless of the conditions, this might lighten our mood somewhat.

Thus, our plan for today is to ascend right smack down the middle of what you see below:

Come at me, bro!

The first part of our climb is its usual self, with a damp yet inviting path, as well as the aforementioned ever grazing sheep, that somehow always seem surprised to find me walking here  and hastily retreat to the furthest part of the field.

If I recall correctly, the last time I did this direct route, I did encountered some deer, idling lazily between high ferns and presumably enjoying what they assumed would be an undisturbed afternoon. No deer this time, as we finally leave the path and start climbing in earnest.

Not that this climb is that dramatic up to the middle plateau, where we get to enjoy some views. One might still qualify at it as steep, but not "fancy" steep. As you can see from the picture below however, we are getting dangerously close to the cloud cover, even though our climb is far from over:

Looking towards an unusually grey Fanad.

Then, from the middle plateau, things become a bit more rocky and therefore a bit more interesting.

How I wish I could cut straight through the hindrances I'm going to have to contend with, in order for the developers I asked assistance for to eventually get to the same page as I am, the way I am cutting straight through this rocky mountain slope!

Though it is a steep climb, it probably looks more impressive on the picture than it is in real life...

As we are nearing the final ridge, we get to use a bit more than our legs, which makes the experience a bit more interesting at last, and helps shed some of our frustration away (which was the plan all along). There's something about using your whole body for the climb... Not that there's much risk to it here, even if it's quite damp all around.

Alas, as we are finally reach the top, the clouds have long beaten us to it, and all we get for our trouble in terms of view are the grey unending drapes of a late afternoon mist...

Behold: Knockalla summit!

Yet, as I am putting the camera back into my pocket after having captured the picture above, two figures furtively come forth from the forlorn fog!

Their hillwalking gear instantly indicates that I wasn't the only one who took a bet on this cloud cover possibly going away by the time one reached the top, and lost.

We exchange a friendly greeting, as I am pondering whether they might be father and son, whereupon they inform me that they are locals. As, in turn, they ask where I am from, I can't help but feel slightly satisfied me that folks who hear me speak don't instantly place me with being of French origins (as usual, they thought I was German). At least my accent isn't entirely giving me away. There may yet exist work for me in the spy trade...

Now, because I have just arrived at the top, I find myself being a bit more loquacious than usual. Eventually, they ask me if I have been to the lake.

Not today I'm afraid. Not that I would mind, but now that I've got this walk out of my system, I'm still planning to see if there's anything I can salvage from that project of mine, and I therefore don't plan on staying too long here, especially in these clouds.

Pointing to the thick fog cover, and probably wondering if I am familiar with this place at all, they suddenly to express some concern about my going over the ridge in this low visibility.

Considering the ridge is precisely where I emerged from, after climbing straight up through it no more than a couple minutes, I can't help but find that cute... I could give you, or them, an unoriginal line about having been "moulded by" the ridge but of course, I don't want to be that dismissive of concerned fellow walkers, who are genuinely wondering if I know the place well enough (which I certainly do) and are simply concerned about my well being...

We part in good spirits, as they tentatively take the direction of the lake (I'll bring you there... just not today) and I move in the opposite direction.

Now that I am alone again, and since this is about the best I can do for you in this cloudy surrounding, I snap a couple more pictures of the local vegetation, which always seems to be enjoying the dampness a bit too unironically:

Even in the midst of the dullest day, there is some colour to be found

Time to head down and see if there's anything I can get back to at home, that isn't going to require me to rely on someone's far away promise of a possible late assistance, just like Horn Head emerging proudly in the late afternoon sun...

Suggested Sound Track

Three Days Grace - It's All Over

Because we gotta pick ourselves up somehow.

Additional Pictures

Not today. Not in the mood.

Donaghmore Strand - X marks the spot

Click on this image for our track in Google Maps

Well, I guess I've been out to sea long enough...

Or, one could also say, I have been silent long enough...

Now, for those wondering what this quip is about, it is a mere acknowledgement that I am no longer publishing these blog entries even remotely close to real-time. Therefore, even if the official timestamp of this post doesn't make it look that way, there has been... some time, between the publishing of this entry and the previous one.

But let's get back to our main storyline: Today is quite overcast, so much so that even the medium-height hills, that are visible from home, are blanketed under an unwavering layer of clouds. What this means is we need to forego any idea of a decent climb and head to lower grounds instead.

Not that we mind that much: we've done our fair share of climbing last week and we know just the place to go, that sits much closer to home than Slieve League, and that should help us get our hiking fix.

To Fanad it is yet again!

Except, this time, we're going to take our swashbuckling adventures towards its most westerly point.

The heather's in full bloom and an open path awaits us - let's go!

With a quick hop over the bridge, that didn't exist when we started to come here about 10 years ago, we soon arrive to what used to be a very isolated place, and which continues to bear all of the stigmas of that state up to this day. Our kind of place!

Can't help but wish that, 10 years from now, the identity of this part of Fanad still won't have changed much, even with its newfound connection to the mainland. Alas, considering the stupidly large amount of mobile homes that have been unscrupulously added to the other side of the bay (Rossguill) as well a life-long pessimism on these matters, borne from first hand experience, I fear that, the enticing seclusion of this place isn't going to last for much longer. Shame.

Anyway, while we can still enjoy it, even more than the place we parked, our destination for today is indeed quite isolated, since it's good old Donaghmore Strand which, by all means, is a beach of great splendour when the conditions are right, but which also doesn't offer too great a means of access. The reason for this is not for lack of an easily walkable path but mostly because, last time I checked, the local farmer had erected a big "No trespassing" sign across the all-to-inviting path that leads to it and, even if we have been known to disregard the many of rules that we deem utterly arbitrary and unfair, we do attempt to respect some of them... when it doesn't bother us too much.

In this case, it doesn't bother us. We have our secret passages to these lands, that have yet to be placarded with "Durchgang verboten", and since we don't mind taking the long way around, we'll relish in the anticipation of lengthening our adventure.

But, first things first, there's no way we can start on merry way without making a quick detour to say hello to the ever friendly locals:

Just about the most life you will encounter on this part of Fanad, on a grey Sunday afternoon

With this formality now accomplished, we can now head further towards the strand, using the large farm path as well as the field openings we know of. As always, the landscape is more than welcoming and, even if this walk is not challenging in the slightest, we do appreciate being out again. However, as soon as the main road becomes a distant souvenir, we suddenly find out that there is an unusually large amount of flies swarming around, and starting to pester us.

Considering the amount of stagnant water lying here and there as well as the overall mildness, this doesn't exactly come as much of a surprise. But I still have to say that being followed by a large swarm of flies for minutes on end does make one begin to wonder if, maybe, their last shower might have left something to be desired...

At least I hope that my showering skills are still better than my photography skill, as, out of the four pictures I took of the exceedingly friendly house sparrow, that kept following no more than a couple metres away as I strode along the last leg of the barb-wire fenced path that leads to the beach, this is the best I have to show for it:

And it's not like we didn't have ample time to fix the focus - that bird followed us for a solid 2 minutes!

As friendly as it seemed, I suppose it isn't really our brave face that attracted the bird, but probably that juicy swarm of flies that existed in our wake. Then again, who can tell what goes on into the mind of a small bird. Maybe our smile is that charming for lesser creatures...

While I didn't manage to get a decent picture of our small friend, at least I did manage to capture a better picture of the relaxed grey heron, which we disturbed around the same area, and which temporarily set down a bit further up, before flying off for good:

Wild fowl of Fanad must be different breed, not to seem to have any fear at all of us humans

Having long heard the saying: "A heron drags the rain wherever it flies", I can't help but hope that this long established peasants' rule will get disproved, at least for the next the couple of hours. The skies may be overcast, but last time I checked, it didn't seem like rain was on the menu.

Now, as we arrive close to the place where the large fowl flew off, the ground is definitely becoming a lot sandier, a clear indication, if there was any need for it, that we are nearing our first destination.

Yet, we can't help but take one last look at the inviting rolling hills standing right to our east.

Can't say I'm not tempted for a quick climb. Yet I have to remind myself that our destination lies elsewhere

At last, we are now at the edge of the ocean and, as make quick mince of the low fence that guards the beach entry, we can forget the temporary inconvenience of flies, who chose to stay behind waiting for our return, as well as the disappointment of still not having managed to take a proper picture of wild life today, despite having been given many a chance to do so.

With one last attempt at rectifying things, before we engage onto the sand, we decide to fall back to capturing some of the colourful flora, that also exists along the path. At least, these fellows are not going to be tempted to flee from us as soon as we venture a bit too close (that we know of):

Come on thistle, give me focus!

But we've spend more than enough time dwelling on inlander matters! We are a coastal dweller now, and our thoughts can now rest purely onto sea elements. This is even more true as we appear to be the only intelligent being, or something akin to such a naturalist classification, currently inhabiting these shores.

The beginnings of Donaghmore Strand

Now that I think about it, even if I come here on a relatively regular basis, I genuinely don't recall ever meeting another living soul on this beach. And today is no exception — we have these sands all to ourselves, just as our contemplative soul wanted.

Besides, judging by the fact that ours is the only track we can distinguish, I do have to wonder if the strand as seem many other footsteps, besides ours, in the last few moons...

Looking back at our track as we progress along the shore

I guess what I'm saying is: If I ever come across a pirate's booty, that I need to bury in a hurry, I have a pretty good idea of the place that shall welcome the X from my map.

Besides, this beach does suit itself to stranded pirates' tales, given that it has its own skiff's wreck, right down the middle of it, which I also highlighted on the map above if you are interested.

Who knows, maybe I did actually bury a treasure in there...

Furthermore, since I have been coming here on a regular basis, I can tell you that there actually used to be more of the wreck visible. But it seems that the ebb and flow of the sands have finally started to get the better of the decaying structure. These days, only part of the port hull, as well as a rusty capstan, still emerge...

The rusty wreck

On a sunny day, this unmistakable mark of a wreck makes for quite a forlorn picture, especially in the low sunset light... Heck, even a cloudy day like today, the vestigial elements suit themselves for quite a memorable sight, especially for the lone pirate that passes on this isolated beach.

However, unless someone really wants us to (which we'd still advise against) we're not here to reminisce about shipwrecks or castaways, so we'll use the wind in our sails to press on to the end of the beach, and feign to ignore the large motorboat that comes to disturb our reverie, as it navigates around the buoy on the other side of the channel. How rude!

Why so noisy?

Another short hop, and we have now elevated ourselves back again above the glistening end of Donaghmore and onto terra firma.

The ends of the earth... or more precisely, the ends of Fanad and Rosguill

Now, while I wouldn't exactly say that I don't like sand ("Take a seat, young Shorewalker"), I much prefer making my way on more solid ground. Plus, even if the ocean is quite a sight in itself, your surroundings certainly become a lot less barren once you leave the beach.

Case in point, since we're still not done with trying to capture flying wildlife today, no sooner have we left the beach that we come across a prime sample of a narrow-bordered five-spot burnet insularis (that name is quite a mouthful), resting idly on a wildflower. Doubt you'd find find such a colourful creature on the sand.

At least, this critter had the delicacy to wait until we sorted out our focus

On the subject of flying insects, even as we have worryingly noticed a lot less bees buzzing around this summer, as far as we can tell, the butterfly population seems to be doing okay this year. And we sure hope the scarcity of bees is just a punctual phenomenon, due to the prolonged winter, rather than something more unsettling, like that global collapse everyone's talking about...

Soon afterwards, after making a small detour that I won't comment on, we arrive to the pink granite formation, that marks the beginning of Gortantraw Bay and Strand.

It's not like a fence has ever stopped us

A quick walk through the fence and we're on our second completely deserted beach of the day. People sure don't know what they're missing... But I do hope it will remains that way for as long as possible!

From there, we push a bit further, to climb onto Gortantraw Point in order to get some good sights of Sesslagh Bay, that sits just behind.

Sure, there exists another beach there, which we could walk onto if we wanted to, but since we find that our feet have had enough of sand for today, and we still have to make our way back across the two strands we came from, we consider that now might be a good time to call it a day.

Besides, for some strange reason, we have the feeling that we might not be as alone as we think we are in this place, and are being observed...

No idea why...

As expected, the walk back is about as uneventful as our way in.

The only small variation we bring is that we change our return path on Donaghmore so that we''l pass right past the rock formations that sit in the middle, where we find an interesting sponge-like formation of rocks, where each hole appears to have been invaded by small mussels.

Back to Donaghmore

What else is there to say: Not much besides the fact that, as always, this strand has held all of its promises. It is therefore with one last fond farewell, and a promise to come walk these shores again, that we leave these fulfilling sands, along with our buried treasures, behind.

If you dig deep enough, you're bound to find something...

Suggested Sound Track

• Toto - Hold the line

Can't say that I am a huge fan of Toto. However, no one can deny that they are accomplished musicians and this just one of the tracks that flew by while I was walking on the beach.

Besides, if one's supposed to hold the line, one might as well hold the shoreline...

Additional Pictures

Binnykeelta - A date with Lara

Click on this image for our track in Google Maps

Yeah, I know it's been some time, but that's what happens when you have to entertain guests, and you can't rely on airlines to properly spirit them away, once they are supposed to...

Not that I really mind hosting guests. But I also don't mind when they don't overstay their welcome, even if it's through no fault of their own. Else, it does take that bit longer to find my bearings back, which means no new posts (and no backlog processing) for a while.

But now that I'm alone again, and with the weather being as congenial as can be (it set to remain so for the week), I can quietly fall back into the usual routine and, at last, foray back into Fanad!

The view from our parking spot

We're a relatively short hop from home, but the drive there into the overwelcoming setting sun (which won't actually set for another two to three hours) is a blast, as we drive along Mulroy Bay and zoom through the deserted villages that sit on its eastern bank. During these allegedly late hours, the extended sunshine is certainly painting a gorgeous picture, which we can't wait to contemplate from higher up.

Tonight's destination is Binnykeelta and we'll go through our usual route by borrowing the farm path that climbs into the northwestern part of the hills. And no sooner have we set foot on this path that we are being greeted by the many bluebells that are out in full force, around the sheltered banks. That's a very nice touch indeed!

A large herd of bluebells

This is a place I tend to come later in season to eat blackberries. Not that there is usually an over-abundance of them here, or even that this spot is better suited for them. Still, given the choice, I like to pick my Fanad blackberries off this place.

Of course, we're way too early for blackberries so we don't overstay our welcome on this path, where the only life we disturb are a few magpies. After that, we just forge our path along the somewhat barren slopes. So long, rolling lush green hills...

The typical upward "path" we'll take

With or without blackberries, it isn't long before we start harvesting the fruits of our short climb. As we progress ahead, the bay we just left is starting to reveal itself under our appreciative eyes. Come on baby, show us a good side for our photoshoot!

The ocre-dotted green of Fanad's northwestern top

Yet we are not done with our climb. There are so many pictures I could post here that it's almost starting to become an annoyance, so I'll just restrain myself. But at the very least, let me give you one of Tory Island as it starts emerging between Rosguill's Crock na Sleá and Gortnalughoge:

Tory Island pointing its head behind Rossguill peninsula (with special appearance by Horn Head)

What else to say? It's hard to make it more Irish than this (which is why our suggested soundtrack is also going to be Irish for once). Or at least, that's what you'd think until... Tada!

John Hynde, feel free to contact me if you want to turn this into a postcard...

Had I framed this a bit better (and had I a better camera), these islands may actually account for one of the most postcard-like view I might ever have taken. Sure, it's missing some sheep grazing in the foreground, but that's what Photoshop is for, especially when the local flock have decided they'd rather graze further down so as not to be disturbed with all these hikers without manners. Besides, if you really want rolling hills with grazing livestock, I can provide that too:

"Could this be any more Irish?"

Unfortunately, I can't stay for too long here, given that, first, I do have a persisting cold which means overstaying my welcome in somewhat chilly temperatures is not going to make it any better, and second, because I do have a date with Lara planned for later on tonight...

As much as I like it here, it's hardly a suitable place for a date

That is Lara Croft we are talking about, since it happens that the Rise of the Tomb Raider video game was recently on sale, and I've been a long enough fan of the Tomb Raider franchise not to take the plunge once the price is right.

How's that relevant to this entry? I'm coming to that.

This landscape reminds me of some underwater shipwreck I once visited with Lara, near Venice

You see, in the early days of video gaming, multimedia was still in its infancy. Therefore, if you had purchased a copy of Tomb Raider II, you would have found that the soundtrack for the game was provided as separate audio CD tracks, on the game disc. In other words, the game was designed to use your CD-ROM as an audio player, for the background music.

However, this also means that once you had the game installed, and if you sorted out a few things, you could could use any audio CD you had at hand to provide you with an alternate game soundtrack.

And so, at the time I played Tomb Raider II, I also had gotten my hands on the début album from The Corrs, which I rightfully saw as a great alternative to the O.S.T. Therefore, I spend much of my gaming sessions guiding Lara Croft to new and exciting places, with the background signature of Forgiven Not Forgotten.

Now, even if I appreciate their music, I can't say I am that huge of a fan of The Corrs, but I have to say that I have never found a soundtrack that seemed to match a game as perfectly as this one. It really makes me wish modern level-based games had more of a BYOS (Bring Your Own Soundtrack) attitude.

Fact of the matter is, these finely crafted tracks enhanced the experience so much that I have very fond memories of all the hours I spent playing Tomb Raider II, and this is probably why I have remained an avid Tomb Raider fan to this day. Hopefully the new game holds up to that great experience I once had.

"Dear Lara, if you're ever in need of Irish tombs to raid, for a new instalment of your franchise, please also contact me!"

Suggested Sound Track

Considering the above, we're obviously going to be pick a track from Forgiven Not Forgotten. Yet, there are so many excellent songs on that album that it's difficult to pick just one. I guess, if I have to choose one, I will go with:

• The Corrs - Heaven Knows

All in all, I don't think I will ever get images of Lara Croft sommersaulting around out of my mind, whenever I hear this song. And that is just fine by me.

Additional Pictures