Hotel in Donegal.

Old world charm is what you get in my favourite hotel in Donegal, and it hasn’t been falsely created - it’s always been that way. We’ve stayed in it a few times, but mostly we just stop off for a meal on our way elsewhere. And to use the toilets. Last week we called in on our way by for coffee, with another hour to go before getting to where we were trying to get to. The bar and lounge were quiet, the only music playing was the crackling of flames from the open fire. The young man on duty, a cross between barman, barista, waiter and night porter, was efficient, discreet and friendly to the correct degree. The dark, heavy furnishings exuded the comfort, pleasures and privilege of a bygone age; the thick, drapes were steeped in memories and the once opulent carpet worn down with the shoes of the passing generations. Ghosts hang out on windowsills set deep in the thick walls and they make the grand, wooden staircase creak at night. One day I’ll join them. That’s all. I just like the place.