IRELAND
Friends, Fries, and Foggy Cliffs: Our Donegal Getaway
“Let’s take a road trip!” Those infamous words we’ve all thrown out mid-pub session, usually over a round of overpriced cocktails designed to make us momentarily forget about the mountain of laundry, endless assignments, and soul-sucking minimum wage jobs waiting for us outside the pub’s cosy walls. Unlike most of those half-baked plans, my friend group—more a trio than a squad—actually followed through. Come January 2023, we packed up, mapped out the northern reaches of Ireland, and hit the road.
6 a.m. on a Friday morning, suitcase in hand, I stepped out my door to find my friends already idling in the car. If I thought my over-packing tendencies were extreme, Ross had me beat. His entire wardrobe—or at least it seemed that way—was neatly hung on the safety bar in the backseat, turning his car into a mobile closet. In that moment, I knew two things: 1) this adventure was officially underway, and 2) I’d chosen my friends wisely.
A few hours of being squished in the backseat between a mountain of bags and Ross’s personal fashion archive wasn’t exactly glamorous, but it was all part of the charm. The music was blasting, the vibes were good, and the idle chatter turned into a game of spotting the perfect pit stop. The car needed gas, we needed snacks, and let’s be real, no road trip truly starts until there’s coffee involved.
It’s funny how, almost two years later (seriously, where did the time go?), the moment we all still remember the most wasn’t the scenic cliffs or the retro diners—or even the mildly questionable drinking games. Nope. It was us huddled outside a Spar with steaming cups of coffee and flaky pastries, deep in discussion about our loosely defined “plan” for the trip. By “plan,” I mean a vague idea of hitting as many Donegal highlights as we could before running out of daylight or enthusiasm. It was chaotic, a little all over the place, but honestly? It was perfect.
The first stop on our road trip was the breath-taking Slieve League Cliffs. These dramatic cliffs along the Atlantic Coast in County Donegal were the perfect way to kick things off. Now, if you know anything about me, you’d know I’m not what you’d call an “outdoorsy” type. Hiking, trekking, and all that “one with nature” business? Hard pass. I’m all about cosy beds, working Wi-Fi, and if it involves escalators, even better.
But even I couldn’t resist the spellbinding charm of these cliffs—the patches of vibrant green set against the deep, endless blue of the Atlantic. I mean, Ross and Mragakshi did guilt-trip me with lines like, “You’ll regret it if you don’t come up,” while I muttered under my breath about my shoes not being made for this. And there I was, gasping for air like I’d just run a marathon, while they stood at the top, arms outstretched, living their best Titanic moment. Was it worth it? Definitely. Would I climb that high again? Debatable.
As we made our way down from the mountains, we had to make a quick stop at the rest area for an outfit change. Because, let’s be honest, you can’t post the same outfit twice when you’re at a new spot. I mean, it’s practically an Instagram rule at this point, right? So, with some creative rearranging of our already stuffed bags, we swapped into our “next stop” looks, ready to drive down to the Silver Strand Beach.
The beach was absolutely breathtaking, but let’s talk about the wind for a second. It wasn’t just a breeze; it was a full-on, hair-in-your-face, squint-your-eyes kind of wind. Still, there was something magical about the way it whipped across the sand, making everything feel dramatic and cinematic. We spent more time trying to get the perfect shot than we did actually enjoying the view, but who can blame us? We were in one of those places that just begged for an Instagram post—hair flying, sand in our shoes, and all.
As the sun started its descent, we followed suit, heading to the local Centra to stock up on some ready-to-bake meals (the classic 2-for-€10 deal, because we’re nothing if not budget-conscious) and, naturally, a generous supply of alcohol. With our bags filled with everything we needed to fuel the evening—food and more vodka than we care to admit—we set our sights on the Airbnb for the night.
The Airbnb, handpicked by the travel queen Mragakshi, herself, was a cosy, detached gem that made us question why we don’t just live there permanently. After a much-needed change into our comfiest pyjamas, we gathered at the dinner table and scarfed down our 2-for-€10 ready meals, ensuring our stomachs were well-prepared to absorb the alcohol we’d be indulging in. As I sat on a bar stool at the kitchen island, I watched in amusement as Mragakshi and Ross got into a full-blown, and frankly absurd, hand towel battle—whipping each other with a force I didn’t know towels were capable of. At this point, the only thing missing was popcorn for the show.
Out came the board games, and with them, our rapidly diminishing sense of responsibility. We started with one drink, then quickly escalated to… well, let’s just say “four” isn’t the full story. Midnight rolled around before we knew it—music turned down, several board game-related disputes settled, and it was time to call it a night. Or at least, I thought so. I went to bed, only to wake up at 4 a.m. and discover that two of my very dedicated friends were still playing music and having a party in the living room. The next day promised to be an adventure in its own right, especially since I would be nursing a particularly savage hangover. But hey, that’s what road trips are all about, right?
The next morning, we packed up and hit the road again, our destination now the Caves of Maghera. But of course, no road trip is complete without a pit stop at the local Spar to keep our caffeine addiction alive—got to maintain those traditions, right? Coffees in hand, we made our way to the caves, only to be greeted by the unfortunate sight of high tides that made the caves completely inaccessible. Maybe we should’ve checked the tides before setting out? Oh well, it wasn’t a total bust—the view was so stunning that even a landscape artist would’ve dropped their paintbrush. And naturally, we made sure to get our Instagram-worthy shots to make up for it.
The rest of the day was a mix of long drives, occasional stops to admire pretty waterfalls, and a quick visit to some family friends. After catching up and stretching our legs, we continued on our journey, finally reaching our next shelter for the night. It wasn’t exactly a day packed with major events, but there was something oddly peaceful about it.
While shopping for our usual night’s food and drinks, we stumbled upon an Asian grocery store. Naturally, we had to check it out, hoping to find something properly seasoned and spiced. That’s when, unfortunately, Mragakshi spotted the Buldak 2x spicy noodles. Now, let me tell you, one bite of those fiery noodles and Ross was hiccuping so violently it looked like his diaphragm might just come out, while I was literally in tears from the heat. As for Mragakshi? She powered through like a trooper, but boy, did we all pay for it the next day. Our stomachs were definitely not happy campers.
Since that spicy noodle disaster was a bust, we decided to order some Apache takeaway and head out to grab our food. But, of course, the little BnB we were staying at was smack in the middle of nowhere, with not a streetlight in sight and questionable GPS directions leading us on a wild goose chase. Our car got stuck in what can only be described as a tiny ditch, and after a lot of accelerating and reversing (for about 10 minutes), “Angry Ross” threatened to make an appearance. Instead, we got a slightly annoyed Ross, who somehow stayed more chill than we would’ve been on our best day.
The night went on in true road trip fashion—with an ungodly amount of fried food, questionable amounts of alcohol, and a very intense game of UNO (no further questions, please). It was our last night before reality would come crashing back, and I think it’s safe to say we were all soaking up every last moment of carefree fun. The memories, the laughter, and the inevitable regret the next day made it all totally worth it.
What was meant to be a quick alpaca stroll turned into an unexpected four-hour feast at Kelly’s Diner in Letterkenny. We indulged in huge brunch plates and colossal sundaes, and while we were about to head off to Glenveagh Castle in our long, beautiful dresses, Ross, of course, was rocking his finest suit. Honestly, I think his suit paired perfectly with the retro diner vibes. The whole situation had an oddly magical, mismatched charm to it that could only happen on a road trip like ours.
After a quick stop at Glenveagh Castle, where the classic Irish rain decided to make an appearance, we reluctantly said goodbye to our weekend road trip. We packed our car with a bag full of leftover vodka, dirty clothes, and some gulab jamun we scored from the Asian store, and the bittersweet feeling of heading back to reality settled in. Adulting, with its endless demands, has kept us from planning another getaway to explore more of Ireland’s breath-taking sights, but we’re staying optimistic. After all, another adventure is probably just around the corner… or at least, that’s what we keep telling ourselves!
