Month: July 2025

We started off the day in a packed and noisy van park north of Aarhus, where some parents allowed their kids to yell and shriek on the playgound until well after 10 pm at night. Goodness me! As we said in the last blog, it was a bloody place expensive too.

Close to sunset we walked down to the Baltic Sea and stood on a jetty and watched the seaweed sway in the crystal clear water. That was nice and peaceful.

The next day we wandered up and down the 14th century cobblestone streets of the market town of Ebeltoft, enjoying the galleries, museum and ancient buildings. Very attractive, but very expensive too, so we retreated to where we had parked the campervan for lunch, rather than spend an arm and a leg on a feed. A good home made salad sandwich is most satisfying, and a damn sight cheaper than what the cafés and restaurants were offering. Denmark, in general, can be VERY expensive.

A drive down some narrow dirt roads took us to Skovberg, which was written up as being almost a primeval forest, mainly because the area had never been cultivated. Of course there was evidence that selective logging had been undertaken there. The area was comprised of steep hills coated in old beech and oak forests. Rod nibbled at tiny wild raspberries which were growing in the hills as he walked about the slopes, and Georgie found it to be a good quiet spot to catch up on the previous night’s missed sleep.

Then we meandered our campervan along a quiet dirt road, and took a short walk down to a pretty little lake called Tremosegard, that had someone’s camping hut built on its shore. It looked nice.

We randomly pulled up at a ‘Garage Salg’ along the way and had a poke around other people’s cast offs. We do love hunting for a bargain.

Next we undertook a long walk out to the Kalo Castle ruin over Denmark’s longest medieval cobblestone road, that follows an ancient causeway out into the bay of Egers Vig. Quite impressive. After thousands of years most of the road is still there, albeit in a somewhat ramshackle condition, but I guess that is to be expected. I wonder how many of our modern roads will last thousands of years? The castle itself was dilapidated, and had a horrid history (don’t they all?), in which the nasty king forced the peasants to build the fortress for him after an unsuccessful uprising against his brutality.

After Georgie waved her magic wand we chanced upon an isolated farm next to a series of fishing dams north of Hadsten just outside a village called Svenjstrup. It was called Lindegaarden and was so quiet, peaceful, and serene after the previous night’s uncontrolled and badly behaved children. We slipped some Kroner into an envelope and settled into being the only people on site. There was just one other young fellow who came later to unsuccessfully attempt to catch the metre long fish that kept jumping and teasing him. Heh heh, go little fishies!

On his morning walk around the dams, Rod chatted with another fisherman who had turned up early to wet a line. The bloke said he’d been there probably ten times and had never caught anything. But still the fish tantalisingly jump. A deer bounced away from Rod as he silently passed through the trees photographing the lake’s edge, whilst snacking on wild raspberries and wild cherries as he strolled.

Just before we departed, a ‘Classic Cars and Coffee’ event occurred at the lake’s edge. That was a treat! The owners assured us we needn’t hurry off, so we hung around and ogled the old cars and chatted for a bit.

Reluctantly leaving Lindegaarden we hurried down the highway to get a few kilometres under our belts before crossing the bridge to Fyn Island. Not far over the bridge we stopped at a garage sale where Georgie couldn’t stop herself from buying a wholly impractical bread tin. “It will match our kitchen in Australia perfectly!”

We progressed on to the ancient market town of Assens, where we did the cultural thing and indulged in traditional Danish hotdogs. They are VERY different to Australian hotdogs and are quite tasty with crispy onions on top. There we spent time nosing around multiple charity shops, second hand stores and stalls. On the list of must-dos was the Faaborg Art Museum in which we spent over an hour browsing around the sculptures and paintings. Following that we investigated yet another historical cobbled market street, and listened to live music being performed. A little bit of bluesy rock, but mostly traditional Danish songs were played.

It began to get late again, so Georgie found another quiet and peaceful farm out in the country near a village of Tommerup, where once again we were the only campers. In residence was a beautiful big powerful black dog who was very friendly, and he even accompanied Rod on a walk through the forest, chasing a ball and having fun. We got lots of puppy cuddles which always makes us feel good.

It must be said that we continue to be horrified by the cost of groceries in Danish supermarkets. We really look forward to buying much cheaper food and drink in the more eastern countries of Europe like Poland and the Czech Republic. Perhaps fuel will be cheaper there too? Let’s hope.

The long suspension bridge to the island of Zealand, Copenhagen’s (Kobenhaven) island had a hefty toll, but we eventually got the third Australian credit card to work and we progressed across to the next bridge that took us to another island called Lolland.

All of these Islands are mainly flat, but sometimes have gently undulating, fields of wheat, barley, zucchinis, and sugar beet, with the occasional pond or patch of trees. The back roads that we choose to travel are smooth, and like most Danish roads, usually wide enough for our van and without serious potholes.

We drove south to view an amazing art installation called Dodekalitten at Kragenaes Harbour near Torrig. After parking the van we walked through a beautiful dark forest that had amazing huge slugs, both jet black and brilliant orange, slowly sliding across the leaf litter and path. The large shiny black creatures were amazing enough, but the bright orange beasts were astounding! Then we walked through fields of wheat and barley, and up a rise to where the sculptures are placed. Eleven (soon to be twelve) massive, approximately 50 ton, granite, carved stone figures are arranged in a broad circle with seating stones at their bases from which gentle music emanates. It is electronic music reminiscent of some of Pink Floyd’s more spaced out stuff, and changes constantly.

We were totally blown away by the whole installation. The combination of monolithic sculptures, relaxing music, and the broad view over the bay was utterly astounding. The music pulses through your body as you feel the massive stone figures surrounding you, and the wide living scenery of fields, forest, and water adds extra to the emotion. We sat there for ages before reluctantly moving off to find a place to spend the night.

We set up camp at a serene out-of-the-way bay near Onsevig, with only two other campervans nearby, but not next to us, and no screaming kids. Another brilliant relaxing find. Georgie cooked a delicious omelette that we ate on a floating jetty, which moved gently with the barely perceptible waves. It was kinda weird to be able to sit so close to calm seawater with no danger of being eaten by crocodiles! All night the Baltic Sea rippled on the shore just two metres from our heads as we slept.

It is wonderful how this part of the world is dotted with tall, slender and graceful, kinetic modern sculptures. Wind power is a huge part of the electricity generation of these countries, and is beautiful to behold. You can see that these people care about the future generations of not just humans but every living thing. In fact, 80% of Denmark’s energy currently comes from renewable sources of wind and solar.

We veered past Copenhagen, and crossed over another toll bridge into Sweden the next day (a new country!), and visited some lovely people in Skurup, near Malmo. We sat and chatted for a bit, ate a traditional dinner of meat stew and potatoes, then went for a short walk around the field behind their house and up a small hill. On the way back we strolled through a patch of forest and Rod saw a couple of large hares bounding away.

Click images to enlarge

Ebeltoft

Skovberg

Ancient road to Kalo Castle

Kalo Castle again

Kalo Castle

Lindegaarden camp ground

Lindegaarden

Classic cars

Assens

Assens again

Gorgeous slug

Dodekalitten

Dodekalitten

Dodekalitten

Onsevig camp ground

Despite having every intention of getting close to the Danish border, we decided to find a shop or two along the way where we could stock up on a few supplies. Now, browsing through charity stores is always high on our agenda, and we did spot a cute little second-hand store somewhere along the way that we just HAD to investigate. That obscure and unexpected shop was chock-a-block with thousands of amazing little treasures, and we spent a fair bit of time browsing through it. The lovely old lady running the place had clearly spent a lifetime collecting treasures, which she was now selling.

Then we had to find a supermarket that might stock some bits and pieces that we needed for our nomadic gypsy life in a campervan. Consequently, the distance that should have taken us two hours to travel, took more than seven because of all our back-tracking and diversions. There was also the time spent wandering down different supermarket aisles trying to figure out what the English interpretations of things were. We found that Germany has a surprising number of different types of supermarket, it is nothing like the duopoly that Australia suffers under.

It was a big day of shopping!

One place we spent a lot time at (but very little money because it was so cheap) was a tiny little charity store in Blomburg. It was really clean, and everything was great quality. It was a great find, and we were able to pick up many of the things we needed for just a handful of Euros!

Then in Nienburg we found a HUGE shiny charity shop that extended over three floors, for goodness’ sake! That one took a while to investigate, and of course, we left with an armful of merchandise.

Our next stop was Rinteln, which had an absolute oversupply of different supermarkets and homewares stores. There we investigated a KIK, DM, Aldi, and finally Combi where at last we found the weetabix for Rod’s breakfast! Yay! Most shops only stock sugary kids’ cereals, nothing healthy. We even located a Post Office to send off a post card. So we didn’t need to go to REWE, NETTO, LIDL, Kaufland, or any of the myriad other supermarkets and department stores available.

After that we wandered about a huge Famila supermarket in Walsrode, biding our time, waiting for our ‘Hinterland’ booking to go through for a campsite. After what seemed to be absolutelly ages we gave up and withdrew that booking, and drove off to another campsite – which we were then informed was not accepting overnighters anymore. So we pushed on to Essel where we found a nice quiet campsite to set up for the night.

Along the way we drove through lots of dark, leafy, and tall forests, with very flat fertile farming land in between, in which potatoes, maize, asparagus, and a few other crops were under cultivation. The forests in this part of the world tend to be a very shady dark green colour, so unlike the lighter blue-green of many Australian forests (with, of course, the exception of our deep dark and tangled rainforests). Apart from the ubiquitous brambles, bracken and nettles growing around the perimeters, under-story plants are almost absent in these woodlands. The woods are comprised mainly of tall straight trunks reaching up to the dense dark canopy. Beneath this is mostly open, with a heavy smattering of dropped leaves. Very pretty.

At one fenced off and heavily forested area there was a sign warning ‘No Photography’. We debated whether that could be a military installation, or maybe a nudist camp instead.

Something we loved were the occasional small fields beside the road that were planted out with beautiful colourful flowers and a sign saying ‘Blumen’. It’s a pick-your-own flowers and pay in an honesty box business. What a wonderful and pretty thing! Rod picked some lovely flowers for his lady-love.

Before leaving Germany, Georgie urged that we enter an IKEA (Rod’s very first time) to dine on their reputedly ‘world famous meatballs’ for lunch. It turns out they are quite uninspiring, unfortunately. But we did pick up some cheap tea towels, which was the last un-purchased item on our shopping list. The most amazing thing about IKEA is trying to find the cash register. You have to wander through dozens of different departments before achieving release to the outside world. We were assisted by one lady who could see our frustration and kindly led us through a (secret) unmarked door straight to the checkout and exit.

Crossing over the border into a new country – Denmark – for the first time was exciting! Neither of us had ever been to this place before so it felt like a real adventure! However, the excitement soon turned to dismay as directly over the border Georgie’s phone suddenly ceased to work. No internet. No nothing.

A mad flurry ensued attempting to correct this, culminating in switching the jolly thing off. But then it refused to turn back on again! Aaaargh!

Luckily the mongrel beastie did eventually come back to life, and fully restored the internet, but not until after a few interminably l-o-n-g minutes of gut-wrenchng panic. Phew! We have become totally dependent on the rotten little monster for translations, maps, and site bookings. The insidious thing has a grip on us…

An ATM was the first stop to withdraw some Danish Kroner. Although a member of the EU, Denmark does not use the Euro. Neither does Sweden, so we will need to pick up some Swedish Kroner when we get there in a couple of days. It turned out that many places in Denmark accept Euros anyway.

The weather in Denmark at that point was cold and wet, so Rod quickly replaced his comfy shorts and sandals with long strides and shoes. We were informed that only the previous week it was a balmy 28 degrees. Darn it, we just missed it!

The high cost of Diesel is about the same as in Ireland. We had been warned that everything will be more expensive here than in Germany, which is exactly why we spent so much time stocking up on supplies before crossing the border. A full tank of fuel and a full fridge and larder of food.

We stopped in a small town called Tonder to investigate an art exhibition entitled ‘Female Muses’, but were lured into a small shop next to where we parked with the possibility of encountering bargains. Poking our heads out the other door of the shop we were amazed to see a long pedestrian mall of traditional Danish shops, which absolutely demanded that we check it out. It turns out that it was Denmark’s oldest market town, dated as early as 1243. A lovely surprise. Eventually we did get to wander about the Art Exhibition and the attached historical museum, which was all very interesting. It was nice to get a cultural fix.

Driving north-west we encountered the coastline. It is a very mild and calm coast, with less wave action than we get in behind the Great Barrier Reef in Queensland. That’s because of a number of islands providing shelter to the coast, including the island of Romo which sits close just off the coast. We decided to investigate the island because of the easy access over a long causeway. It turns out that the island is a tourism hotspot because of the absolutely amazing beach on its west coast. From the dunes to the water is a broad stretch of sand probably about 800 metres wide, a kite flyer’s dream. There are special areas for wind surfing, kite flying and even sand yachting.

In the centre of the island was a nice patch of forest that we took a leisurely stroll through. Because it is purely a sand island the trees were quite stunted, having an almost bonsai appearance. The wild herbage that grew out of the thick moss under the trees was mostly in flower. A few big red attractive mushrooms sprouted in the shade too.

All of Denmark that we had seen to that point had been very flat country, nary a hill anywhere. We did stop at a couple of 2 metre high lumps that turned out to be ancient burial mounds. The roads are very straight, but sometimes we got excited to encounter a corner (more of a curve really) and the road surfaces are in very good condition with clear signs and lines. Speed limits on country roads are strictly 80 kph along those long straights, and 50 kph in villages. There is no sense of haste about the place. Mind you, the speed limit on the freeways is 130 kph, but we have been avoiding those as we prefer to bimble along country roads. Many shop signs are in English, making things much easier for bleedin’ ignorant Aussies, and just about everyone we have encountered so far speaks some English as well.

That afternoon we had some difficulty locating a van park that had any vacancies, mainly because we prefer not to book ahead as we don’t like to restrict ourselves to being in any particular place at any particular time. We prefer to travel as our fancy takes us at the moment. Eventually we did locate a self serve put-your-money-in-the-envelope park at Haderslev that had everything we needed, including a washing machine and dryer! One Swiss bloke we chatted with gave us great tips on obscure web sites for farm camping, and he even gave us a Swiss beer (Rod had just finished drinking a Czech beer and a Polish beer). With lots of room, and a nice quiet friendly setting this park seemed perfect, in comparison to the overcrowded and rowdy holiday parks we’d attempted to get into before. That is – until some teenagers in a house, just through the trees opposite the park, decided to have a noisy party until really late at night! What a disappointment!

We are looking forward to Sweden where you are allowed to bush camp away from other people. That is very much a no-no in strictly organised Denmark.

Driving north we wanted to see as much of Denmark as possible before crossing the long sea bridges to Sweden. As usual, we avoided all highways and meandered around all sorts of back roads, and eventually came across an area of tall trees and deep valleys! Who would have thought it? Steep hills in Denmark! Rod had a lovely walk down into the Hojen and Molholm Valley and revelled in the towering trees and steep inclines. In the valley there was even a bubbling creek. Perfect! It was such a relief after all the level marshlands and farms we had traversed up to that point.

An interesting point is that we found out that the leafy vegetables that we had seen growing in so many fields since Germany is actually sugar beet, the original source of sugar before sugar cane was commercialised.

We drove through Aarhus before stopping at a campsite north of there on the Baltic Sea. That place is a University city with tens of thousands of students, mostly riding tens of thousands of bicycles. The streets actually have stop lights for bicycles, in addition to the stoplights for cars.

That campsite is the first place we’ve been scalped for accommodation. We were charged 60 Euros (about $120 AU!!!), whereas the night before we had paid 20 Euros. We’d done pretty well up until then.

Click to enlarge the pics

Storks being lovey-dovey on their nest at a van park we stayed in

Blumen pick-your-own flowers

The Old Apothecary at Tonda

Very neat cemetery on the wild Danish coast

The wild Danish coast

Pretty red fungus

Lovely tall forests of the Hojen and Molholm Valley

Baltic Sea

Before flying out of Ireland we stayed in Dublin in a big high-rise motel near the airport. We were so tired and burnt out that we didn’t really enjoy it at all.

Ireland and the UK had been a magnificent adventure, but we totally exhausted ourselves trying to squeeze so much in, and take in so much of those fabulous landscapes. We vowed to make our European adventures over the next two months more relaxed. Europe is bigger and more diverse than those islands to the west, and there is no way we could possibly get to see it all – like we attempted (however unsuccessfully) in the UK and Ireland. So here we are committed to ‘doing less, better’.

Having landed in Frankfurt we wrestled all our luggage into a taxi and drove straight to the campervan hire depot. It took a while to get our van ready because upon inspection we discovered one gas burner on the stove was not functioning. But as the fellows fixed it we loaded our gear into the tiny cupboards, all the time fretting that all our mountains of stuff wouldn’t fit. But it turns out that the new machine’s a bit of a Tardis, and we managed to squeeze it all in with room to spare!

We drove south-west through the dry, yet very productive, Rhine River wine region to reach a quiet little van park that we had read rave reviews about. It’s a great spot that we decided to stay at for two nights, so that we could unwind and rest up from our frantic explorations of the UK and Ireland. It was a wise decision.

On the first morning we ate fresh croissants (REAL flaky croissants!) that we had ordered the night before, and were delivered that morning. Yum!

A slow mid-morning saunter into the quaint village along a pretty brook, with dozens of apple trees bulging with fruit planted along it, was our relaxing activity for that day. We feasted lavishly on yummy wild cherries and plums growing along the water course, as we ambled off to buy fresh milk and a few other nick-knacks from the local shop. Later, Rod took himself off for a stagger in a patch of scrub (walk in the woods) whilst Georgie sensibly relaxed in the shade with a cuppa and a book.

We were really starting to wind down and feel more relaxed. A few siestas really helped in that way too.

Something we noticed is that EVERYTHING in Germany is cheaper than Ireland! For instance, the price we paid for diesel in Ireland was between 167 to 173 Euro-cents per litre, here in Germany it is about 153 per litre. We like Germany.

Driving a little further north we opted to stay another two nights in a van park in Nassau, just to try and recuperate some more. That possibly was not such a wise decision. That van park, although alongside a lovely river with a wild plum tree free for feasting on, was in much more of a central town position, with quite a bit of partying going on. Sleeping at night was not so restful, due mainly to music, chatter, and laughter. A lesson learnt. We will try to stay in quieter, more out-of-town regions henceforth.

Nassau has some nice traditional buildings in it, and the stroll around town we took was most pleasant in the warm weather. It was 29 degrees! The Schloss (castle) on top of a steep hill is impressive, jutting out above the tall trees, and the cobblestone streets are cute. Some buildings date back to the 1600s and beyond, showing their age with uniquely eroded stone walls.

Unfortunately that fungal infection which is killing off the fir trees in the UK and Ireland is visible here in Germany too. Luckily, the natural forests have a diversity of tree types, with most being unaffected, but dead patches of fir trees are quite evident on the hill sides around us.

We set off from Nassau with the intention of getting a few kilometres under our belt. It didn’t matter so much that we were not investigating every nook and cranny along the way – just as we did in the UK and Ireland. We have every intention of returning to Germany on our way back from Norway and Sweden. It is then that we can do more poking around. But we needed to get to Sweden first to meet up with some people.

The roads took us over many forest-clad high hills, past huge farms full of wheat, a kale/brassica-like leafy crop, lots of maize, and even a few cows and a couple of sheep. There are not many sheep about, and we found it hard to buy lamb in the butchers. The forests are tall and dark and really quite beautiful, even with the small patches of fungal damage to a few trees. The roads are well made, and even the skinny back roads are in good condition.

Germany has lots of lovely steep hills and valleys, many of which are covered in luscious forests. There are not so many monotonous monocrops of pine trees that you see elsewhere, often it is a nice mixture of different deciduous trees as well as some conifers. We like that.

We found ourselves a small private place to stay for the night, in someone’s meadow in Steinheim. They provide all the services of the bigger van parks, like power, water, showers, and toilets etc, but without the crowds and the noise. There is only space for five vans here, and currently there are only two others, so we’re hoping for a restful night. We even got puppy cuddles! It’s always a good day that ends with a smiley dog and a pat. A bit of cooling rain with a double rainbow on sunset capped it all off.

However, we did encounter a little difficulty getting to this lovely quiet park. Our van is 3 metres tall, and the railway underpass bridge we needed to travel through had a 2.9 metres clearance! Luckily we managed to do a l-o-n-g round-about journey which took us OVER the rail lines instead. Phew!

German forests

Lovely trees and lovely lady

Old building in Nassau

The Lahn River at Nassau

Double rainbow over our home in Steinheim

We departed our B&B in Lisdoonvarana, in the green part of the Burren, and drove to Corofin’s Burren National Park Heritage Centre. There we parked the car (for free!) and caught a shuttle bus (for free!) that took us to the start of the National Park’s walking trails. Not really knowing what to expect from this park, we sat on the little bus as it took us into the dry, rocky, limestone mars-scape that makes up so much of the region. The driver deposited us on the roadside, maps in hand, then reminded us that he would not to return for another two hours.

We opted to take the greener, shadier looking path, rather than the exposed tracks over the broad rocky expanses. The temperatures were actually quite warm that day (hot, the locals considered it) and after spending nearly two months in the Northern Hemisphere we felt we had begun to acclimatise to these sub Arctic conditions. Consequently, we did not relish the idea of stumbling about on hot, reflective, pale limestone plateaus in the unrelenting breeze-less Sun for a couple of hours.

The ‘woodland’ walk we opted for was mostly grasslands, full of pretty flowers, butterflies and other arthropods, as well as some nice patches of dark mossy shrubs. Nothing grew over 3 to 4 metres tall, so there were no real forests like we half expected, but the shrubs did give us some welcome shade. We were quite excited to see a group of six shaggy long horned mountain goats in amongst the bushes at one point. That was unexpected!

Back in our car again, the road north of there contained more of those bleak, flat, Burren limestone expanses as we wove through multiple skinny minor back roads. Eventually we drove through the outskirts of the hectic city of Galway on our mission to find the much touted ‘Skyroad’, which was a long way further to the north.

The roads were very busy as we progressed through the limestone marshlands along the coast. At this point the lifeless expanses of bare rock had been replaced by multiple low depressions filled with water and surrounded by scrubby plants and peat bogs. Low rocky islands were clustered just offshore from the coast.

Accommodation prices skyrocketed, but we managed to find a place that was clean, quiet, and within our budget. We lucked it in at Donahue’s B&B in Carraroe, it’s a lovely little place that used to get great reviews until they took it off the internet, and now only takes in passers-by. Which worked for us, because the online platforms were only showing the expensive options, so we found that phoning or visiting places that we saw along the way worked much better.

After leaving Donahues the next morning we meandered through tiny back roads that snaked through the amazing ‘blanket bogs’ of the region. Blanket bogs are becoming rarer and rarer due to peat cutting, and this area has some absolutely prime examples of this open marsh land. The Irish government is trying to ban peat cutting to protect this rapidly diminishing habitat, but we saw lots of examples of peat cutting going on. It’s a shocking fact that Ireland has so far lost 80% of its peat bogs since the 1940s!

A short detour from following the Wild Atlantic Way road took us to a small waterfall with a picturesque ‘Gillies Hut’ near to a lough (loch). It was so cute! There was, however, some evidence from peat cutters we saw near to there too.

Next we proceeded on to the ‘Sky Road’ near Clifden. It is a scenic road that cuts close to the coast whilst staying high on a mountain side. Very attractive. At a high lookout we showed some kids how to feed some apple of ours to a horse, which was so exciting for the kids.

We called in at the information centre in the Connemara National Park, and considered doing some of the walks. Unfortunately most of the trails were through the unshaded bogs and over the rocky hillsides in the harsh Sun, so we decided to push on instead. That place was pretty crowded too.

We drove up both sides of the astoundingly beautiful and long Killary Fiord, with tall mountains reaching down to the clear water’s edge. At the head of the fiord was a pretty cascade called Aasleagh Falls. We did a short walk up that lovely watercourse until the biting flies eventually drove us out. Those nasty little beasties are like a cross between the Australian march flies and the NZ sandflies, with the same terrible thirst for blood.

As it started to get late in the day, Georgie began her usual online search for accommodation. Frustratingly the only things showing on the platforms were outrageously expensive, so we tried ringing a few numbers she found on the internet. That also led to dead ends, so we just pressed on until we came to Louisberg. There we read some roadside signs, called a couple of numbers and found a lovely clean and reasonably priced B&B. Internet platforms are proving to be NOT always the best option.

The next morning we began our final day of exploring the Irish coastline, following (mostly) the Wild Atlantic Way. There were myriad quiet bays and inlets that we meandered around where the Atlantic was quite subdued, and we felt the ‘W’ in Wild should be inverted to make it ‘Mild’. Nevertheless, we encountered many fabulous views of stunning cliffs and heavily populated beaches. Because the weather was warm, we felt that half the population of Ireland was sunbathing on many of the beaches along the way! If there’s a patch of sand, the people flock to it.

We saw huge areas of peat bog that were being harvested, some of the places so depleted you could see the rocky soil beneath, bared to the elements. Very sad. Hopefully this destructive practice will be stopped soon before all the peat is removed, but unfortunately there are many people who still depend on traditionally burning the stuff for heating, to survive over the chilly winters.

Eventually we had to turn inland after getting as far north as Achill Island, the site of Europe’s tallest ocean cliffs. They were pretty spectacular, and we even found a quiet corrie/tarn high in the mountains to rest by for a while. From there we began our long journey back to Dublin to return the hire car and get ready to catch our flight to our next big adventure: Europe in a campervan! We made as far as Castlebar before pulling up at a B&B for the night in a state of exhaustion. A different location every few minutes and a different bed every night can be quite tiring, and we’ve been doing that for two months now.

We are staying the night near Trim in a great little self catered unit that has washing machines and a dryer! Perfect! In the morning, before departing for Dublin we will explore the Trim Castle, a culturally significant historical site that was the largest Norman castle in Ireland. We also hope to investigate Newgrange, which is the site of the best known monument of Bru na boinne, a tomb that pre-dates the pyramids of Giza by 400 years.

Click the pics to enlarge

We saw six of these (living) wild mountain goats in the Burren

Mossy shrubs in the Burren NP

Gillies Hut

Aasleagh Falls

Above Aasleagh Falls

Below Aasleagh Falls

Killary Fiord

Wild Atlantic Ocean

Wild Atlantic beach. All those little dots are people

Corrie/tarn

Another old ruined castle at Rosscommon, smashed by armies

Heh heh

The VW Golf hire car that we have been driving around in Ireland is a great little beast in many ways. It is comfortable, responsive, and economical, despite burning stinky, polluting, diesel. The only complaint we really have about it is the stupid onboard computer. It’s a fascist! If you approach a single lean flower stem, some soft blades of long grass, a rise in the road ahead, or even a cattle grid for goodness’ sake it SLAMS on the brakes! You screech to a dead stop! This has happened on many occasions, and has frightened the absolute willies out of us each time! Grrrr!

Also, it keeps ringing an alarm on the dash and flashing messages such as ‘Take control of the steering wheel’ and ‘Stay in the centre of your lane’, when clearly we are ALREADY DOING JUST THAT! This often prompts us to swear in a most ungentlemanly and unladylike manner at Nigel (our pet name for the computer). Sometimes it stupidly mis-reads markings on the road (shadows of power lines, patches of shiny tar, etc) and tries to jerk the steering away! Really awful and dangerous!

Additionally, the proximity alarms keep going off and driving us bonkers on the narrow, heavily foliaged Irish back roads, particularly when you need to pull right over to allow an on coming car past. Bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong beeeeeeeeeeep etc. It’s really annoying!

We have not found any way of disabling these ridiculous functions!

Rod strongly believes that whoever thought of putting computers in charge of motor vehicles ought to be thrown in jail and never let out again!

By the next morning the clouds were hanging low over the surrounding mountains, which was a little disappointing. We had hoped to bathe in the glory of the wonderful mountains of the Dingle Peninsula, but instead had to make do with the beauty of the coastline of Smerwick Harbour.

Eventually the Sun did burn off most of the clouds and we were able to catch glimpses of the top of Mt Brandon, Ireland’s second highest mountain at 950 metres above sea level.

After driving back through the town of Dingle (love that name) we veered off to climb up over the Connor Pass, and enjoy the expansive views. From the top we could clearly see, way off in the valley below, the remains of an ancient stone village from thousands of years ago. It was fascinating.

Stopping at a fairly insignificant little waterfall, Rod clambered up the rocky escarpment to view a pretty corrie on the mountain’s edge. Now… Rod had always referred to these high lakes that were left behind by receding glaciers as tarns, but the information board that he read on the topic called them corries. After a little research, it turns out that there is only a minor difference. The hole left behind by a glacier is a corrie, and the water that fills the corrie is a tarn!

We drove up the southern side of the River Shannon (really, a very long inlet), skipped past the big city of Limerick, then down the northern side of the aforementioned River Shannon. This inlet is a major shipping port, and has quite a bit of industry along it. Not exactly pretty, but it is a source of wealth for the region.

We undertook a brief stop at Lady’s Beach at Ballybunion, where, during Victorian times, only women were allowed to bathe. It was a pretty expanse of clean sand ringed by steep cliffs, with a ruin perched on an outcrop above it. There was a small building offering ‘Hot Seaweed Baths’ which intrigued us, but not enough to go and try.

Along the way we visited a small wooded area in Tarbert that children had put tiny ‘fairy houses’ in. It was very cute. It was also wonderful that a farmer had preserved that patch of regrowth forest from agricultural practices, so that the wild plants and animals could survive there, and children were free to use their imaginations.

Then we did a quick detour to investigate Carrigafoyle castle at Ballylongford. Built in early 1500s it is an amazing example of architecture, and was brilliantly constructed. The stone spiral staircase was still in great condition, and Rod clambered up many floors to the very top. It was, of course, like most of the old castles, partially demolished by bloodthirsty army vandals. Those amazing stone structures were no defence against the invention of cannons.

We had another pop into Carrigaholt castle to read the information boards about all the bloodshed and mayhem associated with the horrendous British occupation, and the barbaric religious wars of the Catholics and Protestants. Most of the grounds of that castle have been eroded away by the relentless waters of the Shannon River, but the tall tower castle still stands by the water’s edge.

We stopped at a B&B in Kilbaha, very near the lighthouse on Loop Head Peninsula, and booked a table at the local pub for dinner. After reading all the horror stories of the British occupation on information boards everywhere, Rod was reticent to use his real surname for the booking (‘English’) and instead borrowed Georgie’s name of ‘Montague’. I guess he should be using his ancestral Irish name of ‘Rigby’.

After dinner we drove out to the lighthouse to watch the sunset at 10:00 pm (!sunset!). It was a magnificent clifftop viewpoint, with a nearly-full and orange glowing moon rising to the East as the Sun s-l-o-w-l-y disappeared at an acute angle to the West. These long, drawn out sunsets are incredible to someone from the tropics, where sunsets are over in a flash as the Sun plummets almost vertically. The dramatic cliffs were bathed in the fading light and the seabirds flocked in large numbers to cling precariously to small shelves on the sheer sides.

The following morning we revisited the lighthouse and cliffs at Loop Head and looked at the views again in the broad daylight. It was different but still gloriously beautiful.

We called in at the Bridges of Ross, which used to have three natural bridges, but erosion has reduced them down only one remaining. But it is an absolute marvel. The geology there is fascinating!

Following that we progressed up the coast, driving along narrow and winding roads like we love to do. Multiple pull-off spots granted us incredible vistas of the Atlantic Ocean meeting tall and vertical cliffs in the rural region close to Tullig. Some of the best views we found were from a slate quarry we accidentally stumbled across. It was an untidy and messy area of dug-up ground, but it was right up against magnificent cliff faces, giving us easy access.

We continued up the coastline, and many views were stopped at along the Killkee Cliffs, many fabulous escarpments explored, many breathtaking vistas were absorbed, and many, many photos were taken. There aren’t enough superlatives to describe the incredible beauty of this part of the wild Atlantic coastline.

Our next destination was the Cliffs of Moher, which reputedly were even better than the Kerry Cliffs for goodness’ sake! We just had to see that! But along the way we drove through a few small coastal towns with beaches and large numbers of holidaymakers enjoying the unseasonally warm weather. The traffic became chaotic and quite crazy, with cars parked higgeldy piggeldy all over the narrow streets. The traffic moved frustratingly slow on the skinny overcrowded roads.

Eventually we joined the queues for the ticket booths to enter the carpark for the famous Cliffs of Moher. We paid the equivalent of about $40 Australian dollars to leave the car and desperately search for a dunny. Much relieved after finding them, we climbed the hill to view the escarpments.

The day was delightfully warm with barely a breeze, so the usually wild Atlantic was quite calm at the cliff bases – which was so unlike the howling gale and crashing waves we experienced at the Kerry Cliffs. The Cliffs of Moher are definitely very tall and dramatic. Unfortunately it was impossible to take in the whole view because of large slabs of slate that were placed to keep the huge crowds of tourists away from the cliff edges. We just couldn’t see over them enough to take in the full scenery. It was a little disheartening, particularly after the wide and close up views of stunning cliffs we had experienced just hours before. The massive crowds at the Cliffs of Moher were in stark contrast to the solitude we had experienced at the Kilkee cliffs earlier in the day, where only a handful of other people were to be seen at any one of our multiple stops..

The drive north from there up the coast was interesting, the spectacular cliffs gave way to huge expanses of flat areas and rounded hills of limestone. The hills were mostly bare rock with very little vegetation clinging to them. At first it seemed amusingly unusual, but after a while it started to become a bit like a weird and lifeless Mars-scape. Almost desert-like. We were glad to head inland to the Burren, a beautiful area of lusher and greener fields, with trees in the valleys and flowers on the roadsides again.

Click on the pics to enlarge

The view from Connor Pass. The bottom right corner has the ruins of an old Iron Age settlement

Tarn/corrie

Caislean Castle with cannon damage very evident

Loop Head sunset

Loop Head daytime

Bridges of Ross

Coastal cliffs near Tullig

Kilkee cliffs with ancient ruins from when the island was still attached to the coast

Kilkee cliffs again

Cliffs of Moher

Ring of Kerry is an astounding drive along well made roads that have many pull-off points along the way. Travellers are graced with multiple broad views down onto over the wild Atlantic waters and the rocky coastline. This is coupled with expansive views of the glorious mountains that form a backdrop stretching up behind. The green rural country between the ocean and mountains is a pleasure to see. We stopped many times to take in the grandeur of what was in front of us.

Sometimes it is well worth following some of those brown tourist signs that point off into side tracks. Old Staigue Fort was definitely one of those. All those wartime relics are starting to get a bit tedious, but this one was very different. At about 18 km west of Sneem is an ancient structure, circa 300 AD, which was built in the Iron Age, before Christianity invaded Ireland. It’s a large circular structure with 4 metre thick stone walls, all built without mortar, and still surprisingly sturdy. They figure it was built to protect cattle, which were the most valuable resource of the time. We were really impressed with it, and loved its gorgeous green valley setting.

Soon after that we came across another stunning sight, Kerry cliffs near Portmagee. These are touted as County Kerry’s most spectacular cliffs, and we believe it too! Wow! The sheer rock faces stand dramatically over 300 metres high above the Atlantic Ocean, with views out to the rugged Skellig Rocks and other surrounding islands. Awesome is an accurate superlative to apply to this place. Baby seabirds could be seen clinging to rock ledges as their parents circled below us. Dramatic waves pounded at the bases of the cliffs way down below. It was well worth the five Euros each we paid to wander up to the tops of those monolithic escarpments.

A short distance away was Geokaun Mountain on Valentia Island, one of Ireland’s most westerly points. You can drive across the bridge to the island, then drive to the different viewpoints up high. The bone-chilling wind threatened to give us frostbite of our ears, otherwise we could have stayed longer to enjoy the expansive views. From atop that mountain we could see across the water to where we were aiming to investigate next: the Dingle Peninsula.

Near Killorglin we stayed in a very neat and clean (everything was white!) B&B that had chandeliers in every room. Four other Australians from WA were staying there too!

In the morning we headed off to follow winding back roads into the Dunloe Gap mountain pass. This follows such a stunning narrow rocky valley that we tootled along in first gear all the way so that we could absorb the unbelievable beauty of it. So picturesque! Another reason we drove extra slowly was because there were horse and buggy tours that slowed everything down tremendously, but we didn’t mind at all. It was just so pretty. We stopped for multiple photographs every time the road widened enough to get the car off.

After cresting the mountain pass we then drove down into the wide and pretty Black Valley, and followed a gorgeous bubbling brook up to its higher reaches. Many stops and photographs of waterfalls and cascades were undertaken along the way.

The narrow single lane road finally took us back up to higher altitudes to rejoin the Ring of Kerry road again. We drove past many loughs (called lochs in Scotland) which are old glacial lakes, and are so very quiet and beautiful, as we passed through the Killarney National Park. This National Park has a lot of untouched forest, and in that respect is very special indeed. Finding any untouched forest in this part of the world is most unusual.

Having finally finished the Ring of Kerry we headed further north to the Dingle Peninsula. The roads were wide and well made so we made good time approaching Dingle, which was such a contrast to the slow driving we’d engaged in earlier in the day. Along the way we searched for rubbish bins to off-load the trash we had been collecting on board, but were frustrated to see that no towns anywhere actually had bins out in the street. This was quite puzzling, as we have also noticed that there is very little garbage littering the roadsides. Where does everyone put their rubbish, we wonder?

Finally we found roadside bins in the centre of the town of Dingle, and were able to off load our rubbish. That was a relief!

After all the jaw-droppingly stunning scenery of the County of Kerry, the still very pretty rural countryside of the Dingle Peninsula paled a little in significance. That is, until we reached the wild Atlantic section, then once again the views awed us with their absolute drama and ruggedness. Cliffs and waves were in abundance.

At the final lookout that we stopped at before reaching our next B&B in Ballyoughteragh, a young couple were there also admiring the view at the same time. Then the fellow got down on bended
knee and proposed to the girl with a ring. She accepted! It was so romantic!

We ate a wonderfully filling and tasty dinner at the local golf club, whilst looking out through the large windows at the amazing scenery of coastlines, islands, and mountains that surrounded us. It was a fitting end to an amazing day.

Click on images to enlarge

The Old Staigue Fort

Kerry Cliffs

Kerry Cliffs

Dunloe Gap

Dunloe Gap again

More Dunloe Gap

Still more Dunloe Gap

More Dunloe

The top of Dunloe Gap

Looking down into Black Valley

Cascades

Looking down into Black Valley panorama

Lady’s View lookout panorama

Lovely Lough

Dingle rural panorama

Atlantic coast near Ballyoughteragh

More Atlantic coast

The barman in the pub we stayed in at Taghmon had told us about a tiny fishing village called Slade, a place that he retreats to when he needs to clear his head. That sounded just grand so we made a beeline for the aforementioned Slade first thing in the morning. There were a few little beaches and headlands to visit along the way, all of which were down narrow country roads, which suits us just fine.

Slade is a very quiet little place with an old derelict castle and just a few fisherman’s houses bunched around it. The coast is rocky, and we wandered along the shoreline until we found a pretty natural arch which had been sculpted by the action of the waves. It was quite photogenic.

On the other side of the narrow peninsula was the popular touristy spot of a lighthouse and lots of parked cars. We had a quick look and moved on.

We had a lunch stop at a tiny cove called Dollar bay, where we ate cold pizza left over from the night before. Then more slow driving and exploration through the green rural landscape ensued.

There were many castles dotted about the countryside, some in a more ruined condition than others. Possibly the one castle that Rod enjoyed the most was a derelict tangle of overgrown broken walls hidden in amongst a forest that we discovered whilst wandering randomly about, in an area called Ladysbridge. We were not expecting to stumble across this old fortification, which definitely made it all the more impressive.

Then, as quite a surprise, we spotted our first red squirrel! These cute native creatures are almost extinct in Britain, but we were told by our Spanish host at a quiet B&B that they are fairly common in Ireland. And sure enough, not too far down the road we saw another red squirrel scamper across in front of us. Splendid indeed!

Eventually we arrived at the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. But not before stopping in the city of Cork to do the essentials of clothes-washing in probably the last self-service laundromat in Ireland. And it was a real corker too (pun intended). The place had lots of room in a clean and roomy area with lots of other things available, like a lolly shop and an Asian grocer.

Trundling off with a completely clean wardrobe we drove through the wonderful traditional town of Skibbereen and stumbled across what has become our most favourite shop in the whole universe. Field’s Supervalu store is like stepping into Dr Who’s Tardis. A tiny traditional shop door leads into a sprawling supermarket/department store/cafe/tea shop. The cakes were fabulous, and the coffee good quality with extra milk on the tables to add as you needed yourself.

Travelling further south we stayed in the incredibly scenic fishing village of Crookhaven, which has a permanent population of 60, but supports three pubs! What a gorgeous place! Wild and remote, with Atlantic waves crashing onto the rocky coast, it was just perfect for us to stay the night in a lovely B&B. Sometimes we just stumble across the most amazing places!

The morning saw rain sweeping across the landscape in sheets, but we pushed on, hoping for it to clear soon. Then the fog rolled in, thick as pea soup, eventually obscuring all vision down to a few metres. We drove the narrow winding coastal roads, catching hazy glimpses, every now and then, of rocks and crashing waves.

A mountain pass we were really looking forward to investigating was completely blanked out, so we didn’t bother with that one, but instead stayed close to the coast in the hope the clouds would lift a little. Eventually it did clear a bit and we caught some good views of dramatic coastlines on the Ring of Beara drive.

The plant life began to change subtly. No longer were the tangled and impenetrable spikes of brambles the dominant life form; prior to this you were unable to step off the road and into the bushland because of their thorns. Larger shrubs began to become more common, and trees were starting to fill valleys. The land didn’t appear to be totally chewed back by sheep quite so much anymore.

Then, down a quiet road, we discovered the Cuas Pier Caves near Ardgroom. Spectacular tunnels carved into the rocky shoreline which open up into a small valley inland. You can look through the hill to see ocean waves crashing on the rocky shore outside, which then ripple through the caverns to where you are standing. It is so very beautiful. Rod exclaimed that it was his favourite place in Ireland to that point.

Following that we finally approached the famous Ring Of Kerry. This is a region of exquisite beauty, with tall forests, lakes, and high mountain ranges. By then the clouds had lifted and the mountains presented themselves to us in their full glory. Light misty rain still drifted across in places, but the views became available for our utter enjoyment. We drove up a winding mountain road to Healy’s Pass, where County Cork and County Kerry meet, then returned back down to the coast to find accommodation.

We were very fortunate to find a room in Kenmare, as it is a thriving tourist hub and very busy at this time of year.

Click to enlarge

Slade castle

Natural arch near Slade

Another castle somewhere

Dollar Bay

Dramatic coastline

Lost castle near Ladybridge

Again, castle near Ladybridge

The fog rolled in

Atlantic coast

Cuas Pier Caves

Cuas Pier Caves again

Again Cuas Pier Caves

Inlet to Cuas Pier Caves

Pretty coastline

Healy Pass

After flying out of the heat wave in England we arrived in the chill of Ireland. Fifteen degrees it was.

We picked up our hire car in Dublin and were quite pleased with it. A comfortable VW Golf, as opposed to the cheap Chinese MG we had driven in UK, which was a bit crappy in many ways: the tiny pedals were so close together Rod’s big feet tended to operate the brake and accelerator at the same time! The Vee Dub had good power too, whereas the MG was a gutless wuss. The Vee Dub’s a diesel, which is cheaper fuel to buy than petrol in Ireland. Most unusual. The agent at the car hire office helpfully provided us with lots of information about good places to visit around Ireland – we love getting tips from locals.

We instructed the computer to avoid motorways and toll roads, which meant it took ages to get out of the sprawl of Dublin, weaving through crazy congested traffic in unfamiliar conditions. Perhaps not the best idea! We headed west to get out of the city and found a B&B in Newbridge.

One thing we learned very quickly about using a sat nav in the car is that Ireland has multiple towns which all sport the same name. This means searching for a particular town means you have to know which particular county it is in. Unfortunately we didn’t have that extra information, so our searches gave us multiple choices to select from. Using paper maps has turned out to be much easier, in many cases, than using the sat nav.

The first night was spent in a guy’s house in a council estate type area. Driving in we were a bit aghast at the slumminess, but inside the house it was neat and clean. One of the most memorable things about that place was the washing machine that took 9 hours to wash and dry a load – and managed to shrink a few shirts in the process. The other thing was the glow-in-the-dark dunny seat. Not a bad idea, but a bit worrisome with its radioactivity around your nether regions.

Georgie’s phone decided to pack it in so we spent some hours, first trying to fix it, then eventually buying a replacement and transferring what data we could over to the new one. A bit of a drama, but the techie guys who worked on it did a terrific job. Rod had to keep dashing back to the car to pay for more parking because the ‘brown bomber’ was continually marching up and down the street booking cars.

Then we headed southward towards the coast, over the Wicklow Pass through a high mountain range and down into deep valleys. Following the course of the Avonmore River we stopped at and wandered off into some lovely bushland and down to the bubbling river. This was well away from the crowds of tourists that were in all the places that charge like wounded water buffaloes to park. Apparently a lot of trout fishing is done on that river, but luckily not on the day we chose. We then visited the ‘Meeting of the Waters’, where the confluence of the Avonbeg and Avonmore Rivers meet to form the Avoca River. A very pretty place.

Our second night’s accommodation was in a traditional Irish pub in a tiny village called Taghmon. A few Guinness’ in the bar and a meal from the local ‘chippie’ was the order of the evening. Rod really struggled to understand the thick accents of the blokes in the bar, so he tended to just smile idiotically and nod at their comments. We regaled them with stories of harmless Australian spiders the size of your hand, crocodiles and 8 metre pythons.

Early the next morning at 5:30 am, out the window of the pub’s kitchen, Rod watched a guy foraging through the rubbish bins in the street. He had a fine looking German Shepherd dog with him, so Rod considered taking some leftover food downstairs to offer, but the bloke was gone very quickly. Bin scroungers are in every town, everywhere in the world, it seems.

Wicklow Pass

Wicklow Pass again

Avonmore River bushland

Avonmore River

Avonmore bushland again

Before departing the UK for a foreign country, here are a few of Rod’s observations:

*Narrow roads:
I needed to develop a keen instinct on the exact width of the vehicle I am driving. This is to ensure I was able to squeeze through incredibly tight sections where bushes, earthen embankments, dry-stone walls, house walls, parked and oncoming vehicles will be passed with mere millimetre clearances on either/both sides as I travel. In the vast majority of cases there is no footpath, or if a footpath does exist it is often barely up to a metre wide.

It is a common occurrence to be forced to wait politely behind a car that is parked on the road, blocking the lane in front of you. This is to allow on-coming traffic to pass before you are able to move over into the remaining gap to continue on. Very common indeed. Everyone waves and says thanks as they pass.

*The diversity of bathroom facilities:
Working out how to manipulate a hot shower mechanism in a new accommodation can take some considerable thinking. Nothing is standard. I was even flummoxed by a sink plug in one bathroom! I hadn’t realised that the plug was released by a lever tucked in behind the taps!

After puzzling through a variety of buttons, switches, levers, pull cords and other methods to get showers functioning, we were finally bamboozled by a simple set of faucets! Until we were shown that the hot tap turns on in the reverse direction to the cold tap! Wha-a-a-a-t? We were informed that this is a common set up in the UK.

I must say though, I have seriously enjoyed long hot soaks in the relatively common deep baths whenever I get the opportunity. I can feel the toxins oozing out of my body as I luxuriate in a steamy hot tub. It’s about the only time I get to perspire whilst this close to the Arctic. This is in contrast to the simple showers to rinse off the ever-present sweat which are far more common back home in the tropics.

*Dogs:
All the dogs we have met and patted so far (and that has been practically every day) have been really well socialised, they appear to go out regularly with their families and are used to entering almost every shop, hotel room, bus, train, etc with their humans. Therefore they are not excitable and just act normally around everyone. So many businesses are ‘dog friendly’ and provide water bowls and even snacks for the hounds. It is all so civilised! All the dogs we’ve met are friendly and well loved.

We do admit that we have not encountered many breeds of pitbull-like animals – dogs that were originally bred by brain-dead morons for fighting – which seem to be so popular with some people back in Australia. But even those types of dogs that we did meet here were friendly and sociable.

*Plastic drink bottles
All plastic drink bottles that we have come across here have lids that stay attached to its bottle by a thin plastic strip. This has several benefits that I can see: you will never lose or mix up your lids; and it is protection from small children and/or wild animals swallowing them. There is also the reduction in the extra plastic pollution aspect to consider. It is a very good idea that should be mandated everywhere else.

*Hedgerows
Vast quantities of country roads of England and Wales are lined with high hedgerows that deny and block any viewing of the countryside beyond them, apart from some brief glimpses as you pass a gate. It can be a little frustrating as you KNOW that there are pretty views just beyond that long continuous stretch of mostly a single species of plant. It is a pleasure when driving through the hills because as you proceed over crests you can gain a view over the thick hedgerows. That is, until you dip back down into the valleys or drive along flat areas again. Of course stopping to appreciate a view can be near on impossible as pull-off spots are far and few between on most of those single lane roads. The dense hedgerows are grown right up next to the edge of the tarmac, with leaves often brushing the side of the car.

*Wild plant species
Without a doubt the most commonly seen plant (ubiquitous is the correct word) is the bramble. They look so much like blackberries but have a bitter fruit, but still sport the nasty arching canes lined with scratchy spikes. They are present in almost every environment I’ve been, excepting the very high, wind-blown mountain passes of Snowdonia and Scotland.

Next most commonly encountered plant is the stinging nettle. Even on a warm day, long pants are advised for walking along paths to avoid their stinging discomfort. You need to watch out with carelessly swinging bare hands as you walk as well, or you may feel their nasty sting on your knuckles. The plants do support some species of butterfly, so they seem to be tolerated.

Wildflowers are absolutely everywhere and are a real treat. Any little, or large, patch of unmown grass is liberally bedecked with pretty colours. I do love that. Purple foxgloves are quite common and stand tall and beautiful above the other leafy herbs.

Moss and lichens – although technically not really plants – abound, particularly on the ever-present stone walls that cover the country. I have identified multiple different species of moss, and on one stone wall in Blenheim there were five or more varying types of lichen growing in just one patch. The ground throughout Scotland is mostly moss/peat coated and soggy, and the tree branches coated with a variety of bushy lichens (which are a favourite food of reindeer).

*Sore skulls
I am aware that many of the buildings on this set of islands were built when humans averaged just over a metre tall, so low doorways and ceilings are quite understandable. Unfortunately as my own personal altitude/height is approaching nearly twice that, my poor skull does come into contact with many low hanging surfaces. Ouch! Thank golliwogs for Australia’s sensibly regulated ceiling and door heights! When entering old buildings here it is best to ignore proper manners, and leave your hat on to protect yourself from concussion!

*Forest die-back
Huge areas of the beautiful fir tree forests of the British Isles are being effected by a nasty fungal infection that can kill a mighty forest giant within a year. Commonly known as Larch Disease, the fungus Phytophthorua ramorum has been spreading through the region for the last fifteen years. Unfortunately the only way of reducing the spread of this fungus is to clear fell the whole infected area. The timber is still usable commercially, but the damage to the forests, both aesthetically and ecologically, is immense. As we drive about the countries of England, Wales and Scotland, evidence of this blight can be observed occurring in even the most remote of regions. The spores are carried on the wind (of which there is plenty of here), tyre treads and shoes. As so many people ‘ramble’, or bushwalk, here in the UK, I fear it will become even more widespread in coming years.

*Tailgating:
A constant frustration on English and Welsh roads for me is having other cars sitting fair up my clakker as we drive along (most often they tend to be high powered BMW or Range Rover drivers). There could be a couple of reasons for this:

1. Maybe because I am moving at a slower pace than they want, and they are trying to push me along out of frustration. I do admit that I drive cautiously on those unfamiliar, pot-holey and narrow roads, mainly out of inexperience of these extreme conditions. I do, however, pull over and allow them to pass me whenever possible!
2. English drivers – out of necessity – develop an incredible ability to squeeze through very tight clearances. So probably they are well used to having everything so close to their vehicle that they don’t consider themselves as tailgating. A few centimetres (slight exaggeration) may seem a fair clearance to them, as opposed to the tens of metres that I am used to in the Antipodes.

Our B&B provided us with a fabulous breakfast (with delicious flaky REAL croissants) before we packed up and headed off south towards the English border. A stop at the fabulous Dunnottar Castle in Stonehaven gave us lots of time to wander about admiring the adjoining rugged coastline.

Thereafter we engaged in lots of zooming down mega highways and high speed travel to get us close to York, so that Georgie could spread her Mum’s ashes with Auntie Helen’s ashes. Also, we were due to fly out to Ireland in a couple of days.

Just over the border we booked a room in a tiny community pub in a tiny village called Horncliff.

In preparation for returning our hire car we were clearing the rubbish out of the vehicle whilst parked out on the street. A couple who were walking past stopped to chat when we asked could we pat their cute old rescue greyhound.

“Here,” the lady said, “I’ll put your rubbish bag in our bin. Do you need to wash your clothes? You can use our washing machine. We have a tumble dryer!”

Everyone is so sweet and helpful to us!

Another woman walked past and said “Are you the Australians?” We’d only been in town less than an hour and were already famous!

We visited the famous Chain Bridge just outside the village and straddled the border, one foot in Scotland and the other foot in England.

We had an aborted attempt to visit the Lindisfarn Castle on Holy Island due to time constraints and Rod’s crook belly, so we instead spent our time in crazy traffic en route to York. We popped in to an old friend of Georgie’s family and scattered a small portion of her Mum’s ashes, then took off towards London.

Tomorrow we fly out to the Emerald Isle of Ireland! Woo hoo!

Click on pics to enlarge

Dunnotter Castle

Dunnotter again

The coast near the castle

Chain Bridge over River Tweed

One foot either side of the border