James Bond is on my mind as I drive through County Donegal to reach Glenveigh National Park. It is eerily foggy as we wind through the hills. When I checked the map earlier this morning, it looked like a straightforward drive on the highway to Letterkenny and onward to Glenview. Now my husband is navigating. He and his GPS have me on cow paths. I am literally following tractor ruts through farm country. I am expecting a supervillain to appear on a runaway tractor at any second, because the country looks more and more like the Scottish highlands in “Skyfall”.

Eventually I grow tired of complaining about the road conditions and find the parking lot. There is construction everywhere and finding the visitor center is a bit of a scavenger hunt. Once we get to the main building, we try to pay for the bus to the castle by the lake. The attendant simply points and says “free.” This may be fewest words I have ever heard an Irish man speak. (Maybe I did magically arrive in Scotland?) With no other words forthcoming, back into the mist we go to find the mysterious bus stop.

There is no bus in sight, but the stop has a good view of the lake. It is beautiful in the cool, cloudy weather. By the time the bus arrives, there is a full load of people waiting to board.

The ride along the lake is uneventful and we are glad we didn’t hike up to the house as it is raining heavily. I try to catch glimpses of the lake and castle, but it is pretty foggy. An American family is becoming increasingly loud and unruly at the back of the bus. Thankfully, we are pulling into the lot.

As I am walking to the side walk, a teenager runs by and I am body slammed…. by her father. It seems they think it is a good idea to play tag coming off of a crowded bus. Shoved violently to the side, I struggle to keep my feet and clutch my side where I am sure a bruise must be forming. The mother eyes me warily and hisses at her children to hurry on. They disappear around the corner with no apology. I shake my head. Not exactly a super villain encounter, but I have met my nemesis. If only I had a sound track to make the encounter as dramatic as it felt to me. (Da da Da Daaa).

We head inside to sign up for the house tour. The interior is more modern than I was expecting. There are strange furnishings like a chair that weighs you as you sit. It is said the host wanted to prove that guests gained weight as a result of lavish hospitality. I think I would pass.

In the dining room, a screen sits in the corner with mirrors mounted at angles. Apparently the servants had to stand out of sight and with their backs turned. They used the mirrors to see what the guests may need. No wonder it is easy to impersonate the help in all the spy movies…no one actually noticed them.

Eventually we walk the gardens and trails as the rain stops. The views of the hills descending into the lake make me remember time in Scotland. I walk farther up the hills and smell the heather. The mist tickles my nose. I remember standing in the highland pass where Skyfall was filmed. It is warmer here and perhaps not as dramatic.

Headed downhill, we wander through themed gardens. Apple trees are trained to follow the fence lines. There is an Asian garden, and a Roman garden. So many beautiful possibilities.

But it is afternoon and we are hungry. I am not a super spy. I am just a reasonably fit retiree hiking my way to lunch. The restaurant is in the walled garden and is named “Synge and Byrne Tearoom”. Gotta love the Irish sense of humor.

I don’t know if James Bond ever enjoyed a pot of Earl Grey and a slice of Banoffee pie. I’m pretty sure he didn’t recount tales of his exploits at the “battle of the shuttle bus”. He probably didn’t complain that the mist was making his knees stiff as he descended a mountain. But as I walk around the edge of the lake in the rain to the bus stop, the theme song is playing in my head. I think I will stop here at the boat dock and belt out at least the first verse and chorus of Skyfall as I take a few pictures of the fog rolling in. After all, the best movies are the ones you make in your head.