Photo album is up

Look to the right of the page, scroll down to Ireland Photo Album and click the picture. It should take you to the photo album. Not all of the photos are posted, but a good majority of them are. Enjoy!

March 20, 2007: Homeward bound for Dr. Goth

I was up at 4:15 a.m. this morning, using three alarms (a wake up call from the front desk, my travel alarm, and the room’s TV alarm). Yes, it takes that much to get me awake that early in the morning. I got up finally after the second alarm. I did my last few things necessary for the moring, packing away the toothpaste, put the last items in my suitcase and zipped it shut. I gave Ms. Kitty a hug goodbye and set the alarms for her. She wasn’t heading back to the US with me, she had an appointment to go see the Harry Potter dude naked on stage in London, so she had a few extra hours to sleep. I grabbed the suitcase, my camera backpack and headed out the door. I walked down the long hallway one last time, to the elevators and pressed the lobby button. I exited in the lobby and asked the desk clerk to call me a taxi. I told him I was leaving but my roommate was still there and would be checking out later. He said, “room ###?” Surprised, I said, “yes, how did you know?” “You were the only one with that early of a wake up call.” Ah, and here I thought he was clairvoyant! So he called a taxi for me and with only a few minutes the taxi arrived. Yay. Still half asleep (no coffee yet!), I got into the taxi and was headed off to the Belfast International Airport. On the way there I noticed the signs were all written in “miles” not “kilometers.” We had noticed this trend during our tour, but I thught they were just translating for the vast number of Americans on the tour. But then I even remember the guy at Bushmill's Distillery using “feet” and “pounds” to describe things. Right now though, it was just a passing thought. It wwas still quite dark outside, so I saw nothing of the spectacular beauty that I had seen on our arrival. I saw lamplights, dimly lit street signs, porch lights and nothing much more. Also my taxi driver was rather quiet, so I got to ride in peace, with my own thoughts.

I got to the airport by 5:45 a.m., checked in at the ticket counter. The first security lady I encountered was fierce, take no prisoners and no smiling allowed kind of lady. I can’t recall her name, but I remember thinking as I looked at her nametag that her name was too cheery to match her displayed personality. At the ticket check in, I encountered a slight problem. The computer was rejecting my passport! Oh no, surely I’d be “stuck” in Ireland forever. But luckily the ticket counter woman was able to bypass the computer, input my passport number manually and it accepted it. Then to security for the traditional strip-to-your-undies examination and metal dectection. Into the terminal where I had two missions (1) find breakfast and (2) find Cadbury crème eggs. I managed to accomplish both missions! The breakfast was quite good, probably among the best I had had in Ireland. I got toast and scrambled eggs. Luckily this time the eggs were yellow and tasted like eggs. My other “eggs,” the chocoate kind, were found and I also bought a book for the plane ride. I waited near my gate to fly away back to the US. Our flight was supposed to be “on time,” but boarding time was 30 minutes late and we left the ground more than 45 minutes late. I sincerely began to hope that I didn’t miss my train back to Delaware from NJ.

On the flight, it was full and there was no room to move much less breathe. I got my special veggie meal again, but it was the same one I had coming to Ireland. I didn’t even bother with it, I just ate the salad and roll. Luckily I had bought a Cadbury Brunch Bar in the airport, so I wouldn’t starve. The folks in my row seemed rather polite. They were all quiet and didn’t bother anyone. The evil grannies behind us were another story. These women were from the “Deep South” USA. I know this because for the first few hours, including taxi and take-off, they wouldn’t shut up. One just talked like she would simply die if she ceased speaking. I was waiting for the “Praise Jesus” remarks (inside joke, sorry). And of course there were 4 or 5 of them, sitting in multiple rows, talking to each other, all in Ireland for some church thing so the entire plane got to hear about it. As soon as the pilot came on the speakers telling us it was okay to turn on “portable electronic devices” my iPod was turned on and loud. Can you believe they could talk through take off too? Across the aisles? At this point, all I could say was I loved my iPod.

So, now ~ 4.5 hours into the flight, with 2.5 more to go before we land, I pick up the notebook to begin writing again. I’m trilled to have spent this time in Ireland. It was very beautiful and I’m sure I’ll have to go back during the warmer months so I won’t be freezing my arse off while looking at the ocean! But I’m also excited about going home, sleeping in my own bed and eating food with actual flavour. Bring on the spaghetti and sushi and Thai noodles! I don’t know how my ancestors could possibly be Irish (really, most of northern Europe according to my genealogy searches). I like food that doesn’t always consist of cabbage, potatoes, fish or sausage. I am thankful for tasty foods. Ah, to be home again, and cook for myself! Okay, I need to get up and stretch my legs for a bit.

Well the little battery icon on my iPod is slowly disappearing, going red, just a touch of red near the empty end. Hopefully it will hold out a bit longer, only 1.5 hours left.

They fed us one more time on the plane. I got a nice roasted rep pepper w/mustard sandwich. I also got a chocolate mini bar and some chips. I don’t like chips, so they weren’t eaten, but it was funny that on a flight back from Ireland, the chips were from France and the mustard packets from Germany. An international meal. All good. The flight attendants collected the rubbish and we began our decent into NJ. It was a rather bumpy ride, with a few stomach-to-the-throat drops in altitude. These caused the church ladies to begin praying. Amazingly we landed without crashing, duh. I chatted a bit with the folks in my row once we landed since it took them quite a while to get to the gate and open the plane door. I left the book on the plane that I had bought mainly because within the first 3 pages it sucked. I hate when that happens. So, while still on the plane, taxiing to the gate I turned my cell phone on. I had a few messages and one “Welcome Home” text from Mr. Fabulous (melt….). I can’t wait to see him tonight! Ah to be home.

I quickly went through customs, got my passport stamped back into the US and headed to the baggage area. I had 45 minutes until my train was set to leave. I waited for what seemed an eternity for my luggage. I watched the clock tick closer to that departure date and was getting quite antsy. I finally got the suitcase after helping another woman “capture” her bag as it slipped out of her hands on the carousel. Then through the next security area and to the Air Tran to Amtrak. I got all the way through with no more delays, stood on the platform for my train for exactly 3 minutes and my train arrived. Yay. I placed my suitcase down in the luggage area, sat in a seat and was excited to be home. Two seconds later my camera backpack was nearly crushed by a very large stinky man. He didn’t even bother to look, he was just going to sit on it! He smelled bad, like drank too much and didn’t take a bath bad. I tried to look about to escape, but all the other seats had been taken and there was no way to get past his large frame. He was dirty, his coat had dirt/mud on it, he was quite unshaven and not at all pleasant to be near. Unfortunately he sat beside me most of the way, finally getting off in Philadelphia. I made a few phone calls, told the Goddess of Michigan I was back and that I loved the journey. Sent a few texts and tried to rest some. I should be home, in my apartment, with my doggie by 3:00 p.m. My plan: unpack some, shower, fix my nails (broke two going through the airport) and get ready to go out to dinner with Mr. Fabulous. ☺ It was really a Wonderful Adventure in Ireland, but I have so much more to see. I have to go back to see the south coast, Dublin, the west coast and more. Now, only 30 minutes to Delaware as we descend underground to 30th Street Station. We get rid of most of the passengers, including Mr. Stinky Man. The last few minutes of the ride are quiet and anxious at the same time. Finally, Delaware. I get off the train, wait to watch it leave, then head down the platform, out to the parking are and get into my car. No scratches or dings, its always good to come back to my car in one piece. I drive home, feeling odd that I’m on the “right” side of the road. And of course, my first few seconds home I get welcomed back by the puppies, all eager to see me and demanding that since I’m home, could I please take them out to potty and give them some food. It’s so nice to be home, yes, quite!

I hope you’ve enjoyed the adventure with us. I’ll be posting a few more pictures, and try to link out to a slide show with even more photos of the journey.

March 17/18, 2007: The Toilet Paper Mystery

I say either the 17th or 18th, because I didn’t write down a date in my blog notebook and for the life of me I can’t recall using my own brain. Needless to say, the date is unimportant; the event is the important thing.

I was sitting quietly in the hotel room, on the bed, writing away in my blog notebook about the day’s events, when it happened. Ms. Kitty walked into the room and asked me, “Do you agree with me that the toilet paper holder should be facing the other direction?”
Huh? What is this woman talking about? “Because every time I use the toilet, I fling the roll off and under the sink.” As I stared at her wondering how or what she had possibly drunk, I was also curious as to what she was talking about. I hadn’t had any problems with the toilet paper, it was always on the holder, it never did any strange things and never went flying off the holder. The holder was a metal rod attached to the wall only on one end, (photo to appear shortly, be patient). So, I went into the bathroom to witness and photo document the “toilet paper mystery.” So, while fully clothed, Ms. Kitty proceeded to demonstrate the problem, she tried to remove some toilet paper and show me how the roll would fly off the holder. The new problem was that she couldn’t repeat the problem, the toilet paper stayed on its holder. She repeated this many, many times, with no success. She had to try MANY times (I’d say at least 20) before finally, the toilet paper flew off its holder. She just couldn’t get it to “not work” and I could not help but laugh, and keep laughing until my stomach hurt. I did take lots of photos, I tried to take video but Ms. Kitty nixed that completely (sorry folks, I was laughing to hard to argue). So there are photos, and I will post them shortly! But for now, realize that apparently some folks have problems removing toilet paper from the holders while in Ireland, yep, quite…

March 19, 2007: Last Day in Ireland

So before going to bed, both of us decided there was no need to set the alarm for the morning. We would wake when we would wake, after all this was a vacation and part of that consisted of resting. So, with wooden blackout blinds closed, and snuggled under the covers, we were asleep shortly dreaming wonderful dreams of crossing rope bridges in the future (Dr. Goth) and testing more whiskey shots (Ms. Kitty). The only problem with not setting an alarm when you’re exhausted and on vacation is that you really do not wake up early the following morning. Hence, when I rolled over the next morning to look at the clock it was nearly 10:00 a.m. Ooops. And Ms. Kitty was still sleeping too. So, with much rest done, we both pulled ourselves together for our last day of soaking up Belfast. I made sure to bring my new black hat with me, yes, it was going to stay on my head til I left this cold place! Ms. Kitty put on a beautiful silk scarf around her head and looked part Jackie-O / part Madonna. I still looked Irish apparently.

So our first mission was to go get some food. We had now realized that if you wanted somewhat tasty, decent food, you had to eat at a pub, not a restaurant. So we opted for White’s Tavern, the oldest pub in Belfast. The wooden beams were still original and apparently it was a nice little place. So we walked down the street to find the place, and didn’t find it. Then we doubled back, and didn’t find it. So after a few moments of frustration, staring at my tour guide where the giant star said “here” for the tavern, I wondered if it was down the side street instead of on the main street? It was worth a try before giving up completely. So a couple of steps off the main street we see an alleyway, with the sign for the pub. Okay, not a side street, but down an alley of a side street of the main street….. Makes TOTAL sense! Here, we had found what could only be described as the BEST FOOD ever in Belfast, and the Guinness was pretty damn good too. Our waitress, who I’ll call Ms. Ireland since she was also one of the nicest folks we met in Ireland, was beyond fabulous. We ordered tons of food: Guinness, vegetable soup (that was flavourful), bread, garlic mushrooms, Irish stew (Ms. Kitty), more bread, and roasted peppers with rice and cheese (Dr. Goth). She was a bit amazed at how much food we not only ordered but also was able to consume. We felt a little guilty and told her we were feeling rather starved, to which she replied, “Oh I understand, I’m starving too and I could eat all of this myself!” Yay, a fellow woman unafraid to eat heartily in public. Gotta love that. But the best of the meal was yet to come. When after the remaining entrée dishes were removed, we asked for dessert, much to her surprise (yes, we could still fit some in). She laughed and told us our two options were 1. sticky toffee pudding or 2. strawberry meringue. We looked at her and said, “yes.” “Yes what?” “Yes, we’ll take both.” She walked away shaking her head and laughing. Soon, two plates of sweets arrived at our table. The strawberry meringue was quite good, and the cream was real cream, not that crappy whipped cream crap you get in the US. But the winner for dessert was the sticky toffee pudding. We would eat that down to the last drop. I do have to admit that I seriously considered licking the plate clean, it was THAT good! I asked for the recipe, and Ms. Ireland told us to come back after 4:00 p.m. and the cook would give it to us. YES! I’m so psyched now.






And off we went, well satisfied, tummies full and quite happy. We spent the remainder of the day casually walking about the city. We went back to St. Anne’s church, walked around inside and took photos. Obviously it wasn’t a Catholic church since there were no candles to light (yeah, I had to ask Ms. Kitty why there were no candles…bummed). Pretty place though, the ceiling mosaics were quite detailed.

Then we meandered through the streets some more, found a store where we both purchased cute hats. These were obviously not for the warmth factor, just the prettiness. I got a black suede cap that looks totally cute when I wear my hair in braids and Ms. Kitty got a soft pink cashmere beret-like cap. It went nicely with her scarf and coat. And since earlier she had noticed that her lovely silk scarf was no longer on her head, she needed something new. We never did find the scarf, much less did she know when was the last time she felt it still on her. We also went into some other stores; I got some doggie treats for the babies at home. It was a mix of rabbit and game treats, I’ve never seen that in the US and wasn’t sure the boys would like them, but what the heck. I did resist the urge to buy a Cadbury crème egg the size of a grapefruit! I couldn’t image getting that through in my luggage or in my carry-on. But then again, there were many different brands of these gigantic eggs, all amazingly huge, filled with things like crème, chocolate or caramel. Also I saw a huge white chocolate duck the size of a small dog! I’m not sure what is up with the Irish and their desire for sweets that large.

We then realized it was 4:30 p.m., time to go back to get my sticky toffee pudding recipe!! So back to the pub we went, since Ms. Ireland told us to come back. Unfortunately, upon our return the cook decided he would in fact NOT give me the recipe. I went away saddened with no way to remake that masterpiece. Anyone got a good sticky toffee pudding recipe for me?? Please send…. Either that or I’ll need to Google for it.

Alas, we returned to the hotel and the room had not been made up, at all. Ms. Kitty was not pleased, AT ALL. She stopped back down at the front desk to complain as she was also headed off to the cool Visitor’s Center to do some last minute emailing. While she was gone, I packed up my suitcase, tossed the trash out, and laid out my clothing for the plane ride home since I had to be up at 5:15 a.m. and knew I would be incoherent to choose clothing. Ms. Kitty returned by 5:30 p.m. She had been kicked out of the Visitor’s Center since they closed early in the winter hours, which by the way that info was not posted on the door of the place. No one had still come to our room yet to clean, and they had told her someone would. Well, it could be hours before these people decided to work, so we decided a nap would be the best course of action. During our nap, nearly 2 hours after we first asked for the room to be cleaned, housekeeping showed up. I just asked for fresh towels and robes. After he left I put the pile of white terry cloth in the bathroom and realized he never gave us fresh robes or even washcloths. Horrible Housekeeping people!!! I went back to sleep.

After a lovely 2-hour nap, we both woke up and finished up the last bit of packing. I got everything to fit, including my killer new boots that I spent way too much money on. I realized I still had so much more to write about of our Sunday adventure. But since I have a 6 – 7 hour plane ride back across the pond, I would have time to fill in the gaps. Alright, I believe it is time to conclude for the night. More tomorrow while I jet back to the US, home to my own bed, my cute doggie, Mr. Fabulous and food that has flavour! Can’t wait. Yes, QUITE!

PS: One more day to write about, the return home.......

March 18, 2007: The Rest of the Tour

Okay first some update news. I'm getting all tech savvy now so there are a few videos posted below and I'm adding hyperlinks to all cool sites we've visited so you can see for yourself. Okay, back to the blog.

Okay, back to our frozen tour of the north coast of Northern Ireland. Once we had finished off our tasty lunch, we boarded the bus again and were off to the distillery. It was only a short ride and suddenly we were in the parking lot ready to get off the bus. Ms. Kitty and I happily trotted into the main lobby area, traded in our tour bus tickets for the green coloured tour cards and waited for our group to begin the tour. It only took a few minutes, long enough for me to take a few dozen photos of the lobby area. Then we met our guide, a nice older gentleman that of course I forgot to write down his name. We’ll call him Mr. Whiskey. So the distillery that we visited was the Bushmill’s Distillery. It is the oldest legal distillery in Ireland, and it even is said to have roots back to~ 1200's for being a distillery. We were warned in advance to turn off all cell phones, take no photos and snuff out any smoking things. The alcohol vapor in the buildings was quite high and they didn’t want us to ignite the building with a phone call. Luckily, neither of us had a cell phone with us. But I was sorely upset that I had to turn my cameras off. Sigh. Our first stop was the mash room. We walked up a great steel ladder to the tops of huge stainless steel cylinders the size of small trucks. In this room the mixed the mash of malts and pumped in the yeast from the other side of the room. It smelled of a bittersweet alcohol, and was definitely pungent. We then moved on to the next room, the distillery room. I did have a question regarding the mono-clonal communities of the yeast, how they kept the yeast alive and prevented any microbial contamination. Ms. Kitty rolled her eyes and declared that I was a geek wherever I traveled (um, yes, was there a different thought??). So back down another set of stairs to the distillery room where huge copper kettles that reached from floor to ceiling were positioned about. There was also a central “control room” looking area where the whiskey was pumped through to test for purity. Since it is all triple distilled, they keep a very close watch on it. Also, all of the “spirit safes” were padlocked to prevent theft or manipulation by unsavory folk. Mr. Whiskey told us how the UK takes a huge portion of tax from the actual sales of the whiskey that the owners barely break even. I guess he was trying to make sure we all bought some before we left to support their business.

Off we were, outside, across the parking lot area to the barrel room. We walked in, still unable to take photos, and looked at the huge wooden casks used to mature the whiskey. Most of the casks come from wine or other alcohol producers in various places such as the US. This way the whiskey takes up the flavour of the wood and the previous alcohol. While we were inside, we started to hear a loud banging sound on the roof. We had avoided a quick hailstorm that was dumping tons of hail outside as we stood there. Unfortunately the next group was also waiting behind us and we needed to walk outside and back across the lot to the bottling room. But since it was so bad, we waited a while. I decided this was the perfect chance to ask the microbiology questions burning in my mind. Unfortunately the reply I got from Mr. Whiskey was, “I’m not a chemist I don’t know anything about that.” Chemist huh? Wow, chemistry not microbiology? Sigh. Luckily the hail let up enough that we could leave the building. We ran across the lot to the next building, getting pelted with hail the size of tic tacs and made it there relatively safe. Inside, we saw the whole bottling operation, the lines of bottles, the bottle washers and the packaging area. It kinda reminded me of the opening sequence to Laverne & Shirley, only whiskey not beer.

At the close of the walking tour, Mr. Whiskey asked if there were any volunteers, Ms. Kitty’s hand shot up so fast I thought she was going to take someone out. She and 3 other alcoholics, I mean whiskey connoisseurs, were chosen to be taste testers in our next and last stop. They had a table all ready to go, with small shot glasses filled with not only different types of whiskey made at Bushmill’s, but also from other companies. She did her absolute best, tested with all her heart and was awarded a certificate to be an official whiskey taste tester! Yep, she should be framing that puppy on the wall right next to her graduate degree… I, being of course her wonderful traveling companion, snuck in and tasted them all too after the crowd left. I actually liked one of them, the Bushmill’s original, I don’t normally like whiskey.


After getting our fill of alcohol, we meandered through the gift shop; it was between the tasting hall and the exit door so we had no choice. Nice how businesses do that. I was in search for a hat. My head was cold, I was cold and I wanted a nice warm hat to help hold the heat in. I found one I liked. It was bright red, knitted and had a little liner inside. Then I looked at the price, 40 Pounds! Which is like $80 USD! Oh my gosh! I was so not going to pay that much money for a hat! I did end up buying some honeycomb candy. It was billed as a traditional Irish candy made out of honey (hence the name). Quite tasty but super sweet. I could only eat a bit of it. So, I made my way out to the bus, leaving Ms. Kitty abandoned in the store to finish her purchases. We were again being late to the bus. I snapped a few pictures, walked to the bus to find Darrin hanging out by the bus telling me to hurry up. I told him Ms. Kitty was still buying stuff, but was in line to pay so she should be coming any second. I know, I lied. She was still deciding on which print to buy as I ditched her in the store. But she did show up more quickly than I thought. And yes, this time she was THE last person to get on the bus. Oh well. She had some lovely purchases and more honeycomb candy.

We were off again, this time to the Giant’s Causeway. This is a natural phenomenon where hexagonal lava stones are protruding out of the ground and out towards the sea. These same stones can be found in Scotland on the other side of the water. There is a legend that goes like this: an Irish giant named Fionn mac Cumhaill (or Finn McCool) built a stone causeway to walk to Scotland to fight his Scottish counterpart, Benandonner. Legend tells that Finn McCool began to walk across the causeway but fled after seeing how huge Benandonner was. He asked his wife to disguise him as a baby. When Benandonner saw the size of the 'infant', of which he assumed to be of the giant father, Fionn, he fled home in terror, tearing up the causeway on his way back in case Fionn followed him. In any case, the place looked cool. The stones were stacked high on ground and were lower in the water. Unfortunately, the weather was super bad and Ms. Kitty was worried I’d be swept away by a rogue wave if I walked out onto the stones, so I took photos instead. It was really cool, and I will have to go back to check out the stones in calmer weather. We also stopped here to go through the three gift shops, yes I said three. Because you can’t just have all the trinkets in one shop! I found a hat! I bought a black yarn, Thinsulate lined hat for 3 Pounds! I was so happy that I refused to take off the hat ever again that day. Even when Ms. Kitty demanded I take the hat off for a photo, I adamantly refused. I was warm now and I was going to stay that way! Ah happy now, ears not falling off, cold rebuffed from my head. We were there only for a little while as the time was ticking away and we had to reboard the bus to begin our trip back to Belfast. Our tour was over. But we enjoyed every minute of it, freezing cold or not. We rode back peacefully; I curled into a tight ball in the back seat with my back to the window and fell asleep. Ms. Kitty said I was asleep within five minutes of the bus pulling away.

We arrived back into Belfast and were dropped off near the Grand Opera House, nice from the outside but we never were able to get back for a tour. Our first goal, since it was again cold with rain and snow coming down was to go get some food! Our first choice was the Crown Liquor Saloon, but unfortunately they had ceased dinner operations. We tried the Hotel Europa across the street in hopes we could find a different restaurant. The concierge informed us the restaurant we wanted was on the other side of town. So we walked back out into the snow/rain mix and went directly to Robinsons Bar to order dinner. The restaurant was pretty, had comfy couch seats and large portions of food. Too bad the food tasted, well let me re-phrase that, too bad the food had no taste! Ugh. We ate it anyway and then headed back to our hotel. Tomorrow we will just walk around Belfast, maybe finish the Titanic walking tour, go shopping some more or just enjoy ourselves. It had been a long but wonderful day and we would sleep quite well, yes, quite.

March 16, 2007: Flashback to the Falsies

As I was typing along for the next blog entry, I forgot to mention a funny little occurrence on the night of March 16th. While we were at the Spanish tapas place, Ms. Kitty and I used the ladies room prior to going to the bar that was a few steps away (scroll down to read that part if you missed it). And as you know, women must use the loo in pairs and/or groups and must “powder our noses” to look pretty. So, it was here that the spoken line of the night was uttered, in the ladies loo by none other than Ms. Kitty. As we were checking our hair, makeup and such, Ms. Kitty looks right at me and says, “can you put my boobs in your purse?” as she hands me her falsies in the bathroom. Yes folks, Ms. Kitty reached in, pulled out the falsies and handed me her foam boobs. I guess she was tired of wearing them. To add to the hilarity, she adds, “I’m to f*cking cheap to spring for the $65 chicken cutlets.” For those of you not “in-the-know” chicken cutlets are the rubberized falsies that are a bit more pricey and fit better in bras. Of course there were two other women in the loo at the same time that started laughing at this whole scene. No, there are no photos of this event, sorry. And yes, the moral of the story is this: add a little alcohol and the boobs come out. Yes, Quite……

March 18, 2007: North Atlantic Ocean and More

It’s Sunday morning in Belfast, Ireland. We got up at 7:00 a.m. to be ready to get downstairs in the hotel lobby by 8:15 to catch the coach bus for the tour. We had purchased tickets for the Giant’s Causeway and More tour. It was about 10 minutes late, but the bus did arrive and we climbed aboard. Our first stop was to the hostel office to check in for the tour and to get a few bottles of water and bagels for breakfast. Ms. Kitty hunted down the food sources while I staked out our space in line for the ticket confirmation. There were some bizarre folks in line, loud and kinda obnoxious for this early in the morning. I hadn’t had my coffee yet, so I probably looked like the evil queen of death. ☺ Luckily there are no photos of me this way! It was a rather cold and damp morning. Then it began to flurry while I was standing in line. I wondered just what kind of adventure we were in for if the snow began to fall much more. But it only flurried in the city. We boarded the buses again and this time we were off for sure on our journey out of the city of Belfast. Luckily, the obnoxious folks did not get on our bus, they got on the second bus!! Yay, the gods are kind today.

As we were zipping down the highway, out of the city and north through the countryside, our bus driver gave a bit of information about what we would see today. He told us how to pre-order our lunch and that he also informed us that he “only controls the bus, not the weather so don’t complain to me about the weather, I can’t do anything about it.” His name was Darrin (pronounced Dah-ron). It was definitely cold today, but not nearly as we thought it might be. The bus had an inside temperature display that read 4 C for outside. Brrrrr. Yet, it was a nice ride through the countryside, the snow was beginning to lay down is some areas, more hill tops were beginning to be snow capped and it made it all look so much more quaint and beautiful.



Then about 35 – 40 minutes into the ride, the driver announced we would be making a short stop for a toilet break and leg stretch in a small town. Just as he finished telling us this information, we rounded a corner and the ocean appeared on the right side of the bus. Ms. Kitty and I had the very last row of seats so we could bounce from side to side easily, but I was on the left on the turn. My eyes grew wide and I know I stopped breathing for a moment. It was AMAZINGLY beautiful! Ms. Kitty quickly switched sides with me and let me gawk out the window with my cameras flashing away. I knew the images wouldn’t be the best through the bus window, and my own mental images would be far better than any camera could catch, but I tried anyway. The road was nearly beside the water, I could look over the edge and see the rocks and crashing waves below. The sea was deep green, with storm clouds hovering just over the water. As we moved closer to the small town, really more like a hamlet, we prepared to get off the bus for a moment or two. It was a cute little fishing town, I’m sorry I’ve forgotten the name. I was so enthralled by the view I forgot to write down where I was! I took a few pictures and we were off again on the bus to our next destination. As we rode along the seaside, more snow-covered hills dotted the landscape. We passed ancient stone arches, cave-like homes that the early Celts used to dwell and jagged rock overhangs where the bus had to switch sides of the road and drive closer to the edge to avoid losing the roof. The ride alone was spectacular. Having that back row was a definite bonus; we could see nearly all about us! Finally we arrived at our first main attraction of the day. The Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge. This bridge is a simple rope bridge connecting the mainland to a small island where nothing is below you except sharp rocks and crashing waves. ☺ I was sooooo ready for this!! Unfortunately the natural parks of Ireland wasn’t ready for me. More like, Mother Nature decided this would not be the day for me to cross a rope bridge. When we got to the opening booth, the lady said, “due to the high winds, the bridge is closed today. But you can still walk down to see the area if you like.” Okay, the wind was a bit bustle, our hair was getting tossed about, but surely this little wind couldn’t be THAT bad to close the bridge? Right? So Ms. Kitty and I decided that we’d walk down to see the bridge and see why these Irish were so chicken of a little wind. Well, hmmm, I have to say, they weren’t so chicken after all. The closer we got to the area, the more the wind picked up.



The video of me pointing out the islands shows that it’s incredibly difficult to hear me because of all the wind. But surely, this still wasn’t THAT bad? Right? On we walked, until the steep decline to where the rope bridge would be. This, my friend, was a true adventure. I have only a single photo of Ms. Kitty on the decent, because after that photo was taken, I not only had to hold onto my camera for fear it would be blown off of me, but I had to hold onto the wooden handrail for fear I would be blown into the sea! I am NOT JOKING. Our skin was being blown back, distorted like high pressure air would do, I could hardly walk straight, I had to hold the railing and I could barely open my eyes to see what was in front of me. We got to the bridge area, unable to talk or even hear one another, and decided this was an acceptable amount of wind to close the bridge. Yes, quite acceptable. So, we quickly decided to ascended the hillside for our escape. This was quite interesting as well. With the wind pushing us down, up and to the side, it was difficult to maintain upward momentum. Also, the wind seemed to suck the breath out of us and made it hard to inhale air, which was kinda necessary when climbing a 60 degree vertical hill! We were also in a bit of a rush, since we were supposed to be back at the bus 10 minutes prior. Damn Americans were going to be late as always. Would they wait for us? Ms. Kitty had faith they would not leave us stranded on the hillside, it would be bad for repeat business aparently. We did finally make it back to the bus, and were NOT the last to board; there were 2 more women after us, and by the way they were Russian, not American!

Once again on our way we went through the countryside to our next stop, LUNCH! But before we got there, we took a quick stop by the side of the road to take photos of an old castle that was built a little too close to the North Atlantic Ocean, as it was now falling into it! I couldn’t see, the wind was blowing hard, it was cold and all I could do was point my cameras in that direction and hope one of the 200 that I took would look good. I got back onto the bus and wiped the wind-induced tears out of my eyes. Nice warm bus, it was becoming my favourite place to be! After a few short minutes we arrived in another small town to the restaurant, New Mill Restaurant, and had our lunch. We had pre-ordered it on the bus thus when we got there they had it ready to go. I got the tomato soup with tuna sandwich and a Guinness (duh) and Ms. Kitty got the steak and Guinness pie with more Guinness on the side. A very good lunch indeed. It was a nice rest before we had to head off for our next part of the journey. But for now, I’ll leave you here, as the next two stops are quite interesting so I will want to give them their dues without too much length in a single posting. So until then, we will continue the adventure…….Yes, quite.