It’s been a while since we were out galavanting as part of our ’Living List’, inspired by our Welshies. It’s so easy to get ‘caught up’ in life that you stop making yourself do things, and then when you finally make yourself you’re so glad that you did. Yesterday was a day just like it.

Earlier in the week I was motivated by the fact that when I bought my puppies over here, on an arduous journey of twenty hours on the boat, I would more than make up for it by taking them on adventures in Ireland. Now life has changed things and we don’t have All The Time In The World. Bogged down by sadness we have let our ’Living List’ fall by the wayside, but as I slowly picked myself up this week, and saw RD slowly slipping down I decided that whatever the weather we should visit the most southerly seaside town in Donegal, Bundoran.

During the week I had made the lovely, kind genteel lady I work with giggle when I pronounced it Bun dor ran with an emphasis on the ’ran’ (I am an Essex girl after all!) When in fact it is pronounced Bun dor ron with no emphasis on any syllable, just a gentle flowing word. But I digress.

I suggested to RD that we go off on an adventure, but as is so often our want when we are low we cannot motivate ourselves to do anything, thereby feeding the ’black dog’, and I could see and hear his total lack of enthusiasm: “It will be raining, really bad, the weather forecast is not good. I will be cold.” I left it a couple of days, let it sit there and every now and again I would say ”I really think we should go to Bundoran, it doesn’t matter about the weather.” Or ”I want to take the dogs out, I promised them an adventure, and Harley is nearly eleven, we don’t know how much time we have with him.” By Friday RD was looking up how to get to Bundoran, and suggesting we go.

I haven’t researched much history about Bundoran, it is a sleepy, classic seaside town, slightly shabby around the edges, with eclectic little shops, and fish and chips available. But the biggest thing for us is the fact that it lies on the Atlantic, and is part of ’The Wild Atlantic Way’. It is a surfers paradise, with huge waves crashing down on the beach. So it was no surprise that we met an Australian serving in the coffee shop, and when we asked him what brought him to Ireland he said ’The surf!’ That is probably the best way to describe just how wild the Atlantic Way is.

When we woke up yesterday the weather was not as predicted, instead it was a beautiful sunny, blustery day, the kind that makes you glad to be alive. The journey was a mere hour, and stunning, as it took us through the Bluestack Mountains. Life sent us a reminder that we were doing the right thing as we were sadly directed past the remnants of a head on car crash, where someone had clearly returned to their source. Life really is too short for sweating the small stuff, when nature has so much to offer. It was sobering and sad to know that someone somewhere would be grieving and hadn’t realised it was their last goodbye.

On arrival in Bundoran the waves were booming as they crashed onto the beach. We walked along the path right by the sea, over little bridges where a glen ran underneath, burbling and babbling in it’s excitement as it reached it’s final destination.

The dogs loved meeting other dogs, and as dogs do they bring people together as you chat to other owners. We sat outside by the sea as we drank our hot coffees, and just let the wind blow the cobwebs away. We left Bundoran feeling refreshed and joyous that we had beaten the voice in our heads that told us to “Just stay stay home.” And we are inspired to go there again.

Nature is a healer, go out and sit amongst her, and hear what she has to say.

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Rosie