Edinburgh to Belfast via Easyjet really was easy. Based on the advice from the locals,we arrived at the airport 2 hours in advance of our 11:30 flight. But with barely one half hour in the air, we spent more time on the ground than actual flying. Our Anna met us at the Hertz counter and off we went for the -gulp and God help us- driving portion of this Moose and Mosquito adventure. The Big Fella is not a new comer to driving on the left side of the road -you might recall New Zealand? Hoo boy, well Ireland is an entirely different sort of experience. The heavily traveled dual carriageways are OK until a roundabout (roust about) appears and that's when the fun begins. Multiple lanes on these so-called traffic managers means close communication between the driver and the navigator is required. Much jockeying for position occurs and if the opportunity to get in the proper lane passes, around you go again -a bit like "Charlie on the MTA," you might never get off! The solution? One option is to get off on the wrong exit hang a u-turn somewhere and try to set up better on the return through... The first day was shall we say a bit tense. For example, "Dad you were supposed to go left." and The Fella replies, "You didn't tell me to go left." The navigator then says, "I told you to take the exit for the N59. Weren't you watching the signs?" The Fella says, "No, I don't watch for signs. I am trying to concentrate on not hitting anything and staying in the correct lane." The Navigator sighs, "Dad how do you manage driving in a strange place?" "Well," he says "mom is usually with me." The Navigator gives yours truly the evil eye and says, "Mom you can navigate tomorrow." Busted! I gave the navigator a sheepish grin. The rural roads are usually without round abouts but are narrow -as in not room for two cars to pass narrow- and full of bends and blind curves. There are some 2-lane roads and the Irish drive them at break neck speeds. If there is a shoulder, slower cars will move over and allow traffic by but it is the custom to slow down if you move to the shoulder. Pedestrians and bicycles also use the shoulder. There were shouts from the back seat just to gently remind The Fella to SLOW DOWN!
There were a few frayed nerves but we made it to our destination which was the seaside town of Portrush and the biggest room we stayed in the entire trip. The County Antrim Coast is very dramatic and we stopped for a few pictures and a short hike in a forest.
Two nights in Portrush allowed us to visit The Giant's Causeway, Bushmills Distillery, and the Carrick-a-Rede Bridge. The Giant's Causeway is the site of volcanic activity that occurred many centuries ago. The guided tour really helped us to understand the geology of the area but the myths are more fun. Finn McCool was a giant and he was having a disagreement with another giant who lived in Scotland. The Reader's Digest version: the two giants threw boulders at each other creating the dramatic scenery of The Giant's Causeway. Finn McCool won the battle. Now go google Finn McCool. Next stop Bushmills Distillery which believe it or not is in the Village of Bushmills. The tour is interesting and The Big Fella enjoyed it and asked all kinds of questions about the process -much to the consternation of a group of non English speaking tourists (German perhaps) as they they understood very little and were clearly waiting/wanting for the tasting bit at the end. One of The Fella's questions was, "What's the difference between Scotch and whiskey." To which the tour guide responded, "the spelling." Much to the delight of the non English speakers the tour came to an end and yes, a wee sample is offered. I opted for the 12 yr old whiskey as did The Fella -the navigator had a Hot Toddy. It was mighty fine tasting stuff. Bushmills conquered it was time for a trip to the Carrick-a-Rede Bridge. This is a rope bridge once used by fishermen to get themselves and boats into the water. It crosses a chasm between the mainland and a rock. Unfortunately, the wind had kicked up while we were at Bushmills. The bridge was closed due to the high winds and gusts which nearly laid me flat. We were able to walk down to it for a look which we did. A brief stop at Dunluce Castle for the ruins. It dates to medieval times. Apparently 17th century building inspectors missed the lack of structural reinforcement needed to keep this thing perched on a rock outcropping. One stormy evening in 1639 half of the kitchen area collapsed into the ocean below. Yes, there were people who went down with the kitchen. This unfortunate event caused the lady of the house to pack up and leave -can't blame her.
Sheep are a common sight here and sometimes they gather on the sides of the road doing their sheepy thing. You know looking for the best grass or getting a good spot to view the passing cars. What you notice -immediately- is the stripe or dab of paint on each one. Because herds sometimes mingle a bit on the commonage (open range) their owners put an identifying mark of spray paint on their bodies somewhere -sometimes two or three colors. One enterprising owner used a bright yellow on the entire hind end. Those guys really stood out. Felt a bit sorry for them really -there is no hiding behind your buddy from the next heard to avoid the sheep dog.
The day ended for us with Guinness and pub food. And a good night's sleep was had.
Up next,the drive to dear old Donegal via Derry an Irish wedding and more. I am running about 2 days behind but stay tuned.
No comments:
Post a Comment