Extras for Wednesday--Everything Green!

1) on the coast of Ireland

2) bright green mushy peas

3) lawn bowling

4) Giant's Causeway
5) stacks near Giant's Causeway

Wednesday, July 1--Ferry & Bus to Ireland for the Day

We were up at the crack of dawn to drive to Stranraer to catch our high-speed ferry for Ireland. When we boarded the ferry, I was amazed. It was even better than a cruiseship in some ways. It seemed wider and had a place to get your nails done, several restaurants and cafes, video games, a gift shop, and 3 theatre sections to watch a movie. It even had a quiet section with reclining seats. And several bars.

Well, we were set. We arrived in 2 hours and boarded our bus for the guided tour of the coast of Northern Ireland. Our guide/busdriver was named Donnelly and was so nice. As we drove through rich farmlands, he explained that the farmers like to grow wheat and barley for the alcohol industry. We drove past Loch Nay that fishermen fish for eels from and ship them to other countries. Then we got to Ballymena. That’s when Donnelly said it was know as “the town of 7 tars.” Tars? Okay, in North Carolina, there are tarheels, which just means people from North Carolina. Tars? What are tars? That’s when we drove by the town sign and I read, “ Ballymena—The Town of the 7 Towers.” Oops, I forgot to turn on my Irish ears. After that, everything was easy.

Donnelly explained that “bally” means “town of,” so lots of town names begin with Bally. He quoted a little poem:

If you weren’t so Ballymena, with your Ballymoney, you could have a Ballycastle, for your Ballyhome. All names of towns here.

The famous Dunlop family came from Ballymoney. There was a Ballybogy—don’t know what THAT means. But here is where Donnelly explained about the Protestant & Catholic differences. He said that people in Northern Ireland used to start putting up their flags for the July 12 celebration way back in April. Now they wait until the end of June. They were flying today. Orange for Protestants, Green for Catholics. And he said that they didn’t have enough problems of their own; now the Protestants fly Israeli flags, too, and the Catholics fly Palestinian ones. He said there wasn’t as much of a problem today as in early times, but then just that morning after midnight, someone had shot into a house flying the ***8 flags.

Bushmills has their whiskey distillery here (Guinness), and, in Glengowrie just outside Belfast, the Diageo plant makes Bailey’s Irish Cream. Yum! One difference in Scottish Whisky and Irish is in the spelling. Irish Whiskey has an “e” in it.

Then we arrived at the Giant’s Causeway. This is an area of about 40,000 interlocking basalt columns that resulted from an ancient volcanic eruption. The tops of the columns form stepping stones that lead from the cliff foot and disappear under the sea. Most of the columns arehexagonal though there are also some with four, five, seven and eight sides. The tallest are about 36 feet high. Some have soldified into formation that resemble a huge organ, a harp, and chimney stacks.

The legend goes that the Irish warrior Finn McCool built the causeway to walk to Scotland to fight his Scottish counterpart Benandonner. One version of the legend tells that Fionn fell asleep before he got to Scotland. When he did not arrive, the much larger Benandonner crossed the bridge looking for him. To protect Fionn, his wife Oonagh laid a blanket over him so he could pretend that he was actually their baby son. When Benandonner saw the size of the 'infant', he assumed the alleged father, Finn, must be gigantic indeed. Therefore, Benandonner fled home in terror, ripping up the Causeway in case he was followed by Finn.

There was an interesting Causeway School just above the visitor’s center that allows you to pretend you are in school in the 1920s, but there wasn’t enough time to investigate on this trip.
Rathlin Island sits just off the coast here. The island is six miles long and one mile wide and is “L” shaped. About 70 people live here. On July 6, 1898, the first wireless signal contact between Ballycastle on the mainland and Rathlin Island was made, thanks to the work that Marconi did here.

Another legend tells of why the island has no trees. Supposedly the mother of Finn MacCool had to head off for Scotland when her son had drained Ireland dry of all its whiskey. In her apron, she carried “a mountain including trees, rivers and all” to use as a stepping stone to Scotland. Nearly halfway across, she tripped and fell and dropped her contents, which formed the island with her pinned underneath it. So when a storm bloes up, the old saying is that, “The oul witch is kickin.” In truly bad weather, the RAF is called in to take supplies to the island.

The island is also famous for “Bruce’s Cave,” just below the East lighthouse. This is where Robert the Bruce sought refuge in 1306 after his defeat by the English at Perth. As he sat in the cave, he caught sight of a spider that repeatedly tried to reach the cave roof by its thread. It eventually succeeded and inspired Robert to return to Scotland to defeat the English at Bannockburn.

It was during the time of Robert the Bruce that there was an argument as to whether Rathlin was a part of Scotland or Ireland. As there were no snakes on Rathlin, it was decided it must be part of Ireland, since St. Patrick had chased all the snakes out of Ireland.

We drove by Dunseverick Castle ruins and by the smallest church in Ireland which has only a minister and 6 parishoners. In several places, we saw signs as we left towns that said Safe Home. Nice thought. We passed by the island where farmers put their sick cattle for quarantine.

Then we came to the most daring part of our trip. The Carrick_A-Rede Rope Bridge. The name means the rock in the road. The road is the sea route for Atlantic salmon on their westward journey past Carrick Island. For over 350 years, fishermen have strung a rope bridge here over the chasm to allow them to access the best places to catch the salmon and to check their nets. They take it down each October and replace it every March after maintenance. The rope bridge originally consisted of a single rope hand rail and widely spaced slats. It spans 65 feet and is over 98 feet above the rocks below. Although there have been no recorded incidents of anyone being injured during a fall from the bridge, may people have been unable to make the crossing back and have had to be taken off the island by boat.

I was dead set against crossing the bridge myself, but then Donelly said that if you cross, you get a certificate. Darn it, now I had to try. Actually, the hardest part of the whole trip was the climb down TO the bridge and the climb back up FROM it. In the blazing hot sun. The crossing of the bridge was actually easy. I didn’t look down on my 1st crossing, but on the way back, I not only looked down, but held on with only one hand while I took pictures looking down with the other. And I certainly got my certificate!

Donelly next took us to the town of Ballycastle, where we had dinner at The Marine Hotel. Here I had the best mushy peas I have ever tasted. And it was so hot that I practically gulped down my pint of Guinness. We had ice cream cones from maude’s Ice Cream while we sat and watched the little children play in the pretty water fountain.

When he picked us up again, Donnelly drove us from Ballycastle to Larne on the Old Ireland Highway, where the highwaymen used to rob and kill travelers along this way. We also saw—or rather didn’t see—this loch that I think he called Arema, as it fills and disappears at irregualr intervals. We passed by the Glen of the Slaughtered, where many battles have been held. This is famed as the home of multitudes of fairies, said to emerge in a procession on May Eve (30 April). Those who doubt the existence of the little folk will not see them, for they reveal themselves only to believers.

And then I forgot to keep my Irish ears on for Donelly began to talk about how men in the17th century town of Carnlough earned their living by “face-sheen.” Yes, NOW I know—fishing. Anyway, we stopped here for a few minutes. Donnelly used to visit here as a child and said that “the harbour was choc-a-bloc full of boats” then. The Londonderry Arms Hotel here was owned by Winston Churchill. Then we passed the Glenarm Castle in the area where The hill of Slieve Mish, where the captive boy St. Patrick tended the swine of the chieftain Milcho.

Offshore stood the side-by-side lighthouses, the East and West Maidens. Ballygally was another town on the shore. Then we passed under the Black Arch, where if we had been going the other way, we could’ve made a wish, but Donnelly said he would make one for us on his way through next time. And he would thank the fairies, as you should when he went under the Red Arch.
High on top of a mountain was the profile of Napoleon’s Nose, Donnelly told us. Also here was Belfast Castle, a magnificent sandstone building overlooking the city from a prominent site 400 feet above the sea on the slopes of Cave Hill.

Sadly the smoke stack of Larne came next into view. Donnelly told us that the city of Glynn nearby has a 60% rate of cancer and leukemia and it has been traced to the emissions from the smoke stack. Seems that studies showed that 90% of the time, the smoke from it is blown right over the town of Glynn. Sad note to end our trip on.

We boarded the ferry again and finally arrived back in Stranraer at 1am. Then it was a LONG drive back to Dumfries what with getting lost and 2am construction with diversions in the routes, arriving just before 3. By then I was so keyed up, it took me until 4:30 to get to sleep.

***pictures from top: tiniest church in Ireland; on the Antrim Coast; 3 scenes from the Carrick Rope Bridge.