Portballintrae, N. Ireland

Derry Across River Foyle

Mural

Portballintrae

Giant's Causeway

Rope Bridge

Sunset

Sept. 5, 2007- Touring Trials

The B &B/farm stay breakfast was wonderful. I mean the people. It was so B & B. We chatted with folks from Germany and Australia and shared our itineraries, travel stories, and hints for travel in Ireland. We even ran into them in the Derry City Center. It was like home.

What isn’t like home is the number of redheads. I was in the restroom when it was invaded by a hoard of little “Vikings” and their mothers. The women looked like sisters and the wee ones must have been cousins and siblings. Adorable.

The Visitor’s Center in town proved to be less than efficient. They’re the only tourist info bureau I’ve ever been to that didn’t have public toilets. We had to run across the street to a shopping center. We’d gotten tickets for a 10 AM tour bus and at 10:10 we asked where it was. We were told that there was no one for the tour so it wouldn’t go until 11 AM. We showed them our tickets and were told it wouldn’t go for just two people and we could take the later bus. We didn’t have the time to wait. Someone else told us there was another bus leaving just then and it was the same basic tour. Our tickets would be good on it. We boarded and were told it wouldn’t leave with just two people. Just then the Aussies from our B & B got on. They’d taken a walk-around audio-tour and the audio-players weren’t working. They saved the day.

We got a better understanding of The Troubles and the schism that lasts even today. The houses are 100% segregated Protestants on one side of the River Foyle and 100% of Catholics in Bogside where they’ve traditionally lived outside the city walls. On the Protestant side the 24-acre complex of abandoned British army barracks spoke volumes.

Murals adorn sides of buildings in Bogside and illustrate the heroes and struggles of the uprisings. One struck me dead center. It was a painting of a little girl who was caught in crossfire and marked the 100^th death in the fighting. Although she is shown in color the artist originally painted a black and white butterfly hovering over her shoulder. He also painted a red rifle to her right side. He said that the butterfly would remain black and white and the rifle would be intact until he was sure that peace had come. Today we saw a colorful butterfly and a broken rifle. Only a month ago the British army handed control back to the local police. It took so very long (1970-1998). How long will Iraq go on?

After the bus tour we walked to the Tower Museum for an historic overview and in depth information about The Troubles. Derry was originally Daire meaning oak grove. Oaks were spiritually important to pre-historic people. The Pagan group in Akron calls itself The Church of the Spiral Oak. Oak trees sound peaceful compared to the trail of tears religious evolution has brought to this area. It was a shock to me that the Anglicans fought Presbyterians. Both are Protestants. Together they fought the Catholics.  No wonder the seal of the city of Derry shows a skeleton sitting on a pile of rocks holding his head in dismay.

We wanted to get going so decided to picnic. David didn’t like the choices in our larder so opted for Subway, a common fast food restaurant in Ireland. We pulled into an area outside the city where other locals were chowing down while sitting in their cars. It had begun to rain.

Much Ado

Our approach to the Bayview Hotel overlooking the ocean in Portballintrae was breathtaking.  The cows here have the best views of the sea. We skirted white cliffs and Dunluce Castle. The castle is a ruin. We’re through with touring castles and just pulled off for a photo. It sits high on a bluff hanging over the sea. During a time of prosperity the owners kept expanding it until one of the additions, the kitchen, fell into the sea during a storm. Sounds like California.

Our room wasn’t ready so we went on to see the Giant’s Causeway much touted in these parts. It’s a natural formation from when underground eruptions forced molten rock through the earth to form tightly packed columns that march out to sea. The myth is that a giant built it so he could visit his ladylove in Scotland. We trekked a mile down along muddy trails in the drizzle our ponchos flapping in the wind. It was much ado about little. We overheard several tourists saying they were disappointed. Truly the coast of California is more spectacular. People were climbing all over the rocks and I would have too under better conditions. I decided to take a pass. One slip here didn’t just result in a nasty spill. It meant a swim in the frigid North Atlantic. We opted to ride the shuttle back to the car.

Our hotel doesn’t have Internet access (I can hardly believe it) so we found a café that did. When we learned they didn’t have MSWord we weren’t going to stay. Then we thought to ask if they had WiFi since we had our computer in the car. They did. We have to learn to ask the right questions.

This was our day for exercise. We’d heard about a rope bridge that spans a gorge over the sea and I really wanted to give it a try. It was ¾ of a mile walk each way with no shuttle this time. The path was up and down hills and slippery with all the rain. There were also 167 muddy stone steps to traverse. They were downhill on the way there. You know what that means. When we got to the bridge David’s fear of height got the better of him. He stayed behind to get pictures of me on the bridge then I went back and got the camera from him and walked across. I really bounced across. I love to put a little wobble in the bridge as I go. Talia and I like what we call “wobble wobble” bridges at the parks in Akron. Although it was a strenuous climb I had a blast. The person I felt sorry for was the ticket taker at the bridge itself who was sitting on a cold wet rock all day wearing a slicker and holding an umbrella.

We were told it rains every day of the year and we’d be foolish to expect anything else. That’s why we didn’t want to wait until tomorrow in hopes of clearer skies. As we pulled away from the rope bridge parking lot the sun came out. It was 5 PM, bright sunshine, and dry.

We stayed in the hotel for dinner. Their restaurant overlooked the ocean and we enjoyed the contrasting blues and grays of sky and sea as the sun set. The clouds blanketed the horizon looking like mountains in a distant land. We know that’s impossible. The next landfall is Iceland and the Farrow (sp) Islands. The waves pounding on the rocky coast made me realize that rocks are an essential to spectacular coastal scenery.

I gathered my courage and asked our server about a menu item that has been puzzling me for three weeks. Most menus have chicken goujons. We jokingly call them chicken cojones (the Spanish for testicles). They’re actually like our chicken fingers, which likewise seem improbable.

We strolled along the shore for a short while until we were driven inside by the wind and chill air. The temperature really drops when the sun goes down. It was worth a chill for the remnants of the sun as it faded into the sea. I’ve never seen a fuchsia and purple sky before. Of course we had the camera on hand.

David is playing with our coins trying to figure out what we have and how much to get rid of. He’s still trying to learn the denominations and failing. Whoops! He just found a Euro hiding in the bunch.

I don’t think we’re ready to go home yet. We’re just starting to relax and slow our pace. I don’t even have to do laundry again before we leave. I refuse to look at pictures of the kids because I know I’ll be homesick. Maybe I’ll peek tomorrow. We’re coming home the 8^th.

We’re due in Belfast tomorrow and will make it a leisurely drive. We hope to get there early enough for a walking tour of the city.

Toby