O is for…
Or, anabolics to be specific, resuscitation the Omagh Hostel. This is where the Mister and I spent an amazing week wwoofing last Autumn with Billy and Marella Fyffe at their hostel outside of Omagh in Northern Ireland.
The Mister hanging out with Billy and Marella (and Gonzo)
The pigs (of which I have written about before)
There was something really fantastic about walking into the tunnel, ask or the garden, to figure out what we should have for dinner – something totally foreign to city-folk like us.
The walk into town
The River (we thought it looked like it was filled with Guiness)
The town of Omagh wasn’t terribly exciting itself, or maybe the hostel was just so inviting we didn’t really feel the need to explore elsewhere. Omagh is best known for the terrible bombing but it seems that people are trying hard to get past that. The hostel is in an excellent location if you are traveling around by car or bike (and even if you are arriving by bus Billy or Marella will come and pick you up at the station) and would be the prefect homebase if you wanted to explore Northern Irealnd.
We hope to be able to go back some day and bring Moira with us (fully formed this time!)