Northern Ireland with Cara and Brian (Part 1)

Giant's Causeway, Northern Ireland

Cara Robison, a great friend from optometry school, and her husband Brian flew across the pond for a couple weeks of vacation.  They spent the first few days with one of Cara’s cousins (she has about a thousand of them!) who lives in London, went to Liverpool for a couple days for their fill of Beatles history, and then came down to our house for a day.  The four of us then headed to Northern Ireland and Ireland for five days.  The weather here has been really, really rubbish (as they say) for the past month - we’re well below average temperatures for this time of year and had the wettest April on record despite the fact we’re still in a drought.  The Robisons got a little taste of the cold and damp weather but were great travelers: they donned coats and continued on with as smile!   

The next day we drove a half hour to the town of Ely and its impressive cathedral.  It was somehow colder IN the cathedral than it was outside, and our butts were freezing as our tour guide had us sit in various places so he could point out bits of architecture or let us in on the ‘highlights’ of the history of the place.  Our guide was the most proper, smartly dressed, and verbose 80-year old I’ve ever met.  At the end of the tour, we wandered around a small stained glass museum and Cara and I each did a brass rubbing to take home as a souvenir. 

Ha!  Cara and Brian in the rapeseed field by our house.

Inside Ely Cathedral.

Me and Cara in Ely Cathedral.

The next morning was an early one, as our flight to Belfast, Northern Ireland from London Stansted airport left at 7:55 in the morning.  So much for getting to sleep in on vacation!  Everything about the journey worked out incredibly smoothly, even walking up to the gate as the attendant made the first boarding announcement, chancing us at the very beginning of the line.  The flight was only an hour long, and within thirty minutes of landing we had retrieved luggage, rented a car, and started our drive up the Causeway Coastal Route. 

Quick orientation:  Belfast is the capital of Northern Ireland, which is roughly the northern quarter of the island west of Great Britain.  (The Republic of Ireland makes up the southern 3/4ths of the island.)  Our plan for the day was to drive from Belfast along the incredibly scenic coast to the Giant’s Causeway, stopping at various towns and castles along the way.  The first stop was Carrickfergus castle, just north of the city.  We arrived as it opened, paid our £5 each (plus £2 for the plastic sword and axe we needed), and spent about half an hour roaming around.  The castle was built in 1177 and is still well preserved. 

Man your cannon!

Our men storming the castle.

From there we drove an hour along some quite foggy coastline to a tiny town called Cushendun to eat at a small hotel restaurant that was recommended in Cara’s guidebook.  What a great little place!  The clouds lifted at this point and we were met with some gorgeous views of the farm land, the hills, and the sea.  The views got even better as we started through the Nine Glens of Antrim, dramatic glacier carved hills that dive right into the sea.  There were very few cars on the road so we were able to stop at whim to take photos or be entertained watching the (really loud!) baby sheep running around the fields. 

Chris driving us along the Causeway Coast in Northern Ireland.

Brian by the sea.

Northern Ireland landscape.

Northern Ireland landscape.

The next destination was the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge, which stretches across a 75 foot deep chasm to connect the mainland to a little fishing island.  From the cliffs of the island you could see thousands of sea birds flying below and the gorgeous views (I know I’m sounding like a broken record) stretched for miles. 

Me on the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge.

The bridge.

From the adrenaline pumping rope bridge we went to the totally lame Dunlace castle.  Cara pointed out that we are a wee bit jaded when it comes to castles and churches but agreed this one truly was overrated.  The video at the tiny welcome center was the one interesting part because it summed up in eight minutes the history of the area from the 1100’s.

Cara and Brian at Dunlace Castle.

 

Anyway, after about fifteen minutes walking around the castle we hopped back in the car and from there Chris drove us to the highlight of the trip – the Giant’s Causeway.  In the books it is described as an area of about 40,000 basalt columns formed by the extremely slow cooling of an ancient volcano eruption.  To me and Chris it was one of the most unique and interesting places we’ve visited!  I guess I am jaded on castles and churches because no matter how unique they are, they’re still man-made and basically similar.  The Giant’s Causeway was something completely matchless.  There are other places in the world that have basalt columns in similar geometric patterns but probably none on the same scale as this site.  It was a little hike to get to the main area of columns but once there you can just walk all over and explore the 60-million year old formations.  As a direct drive this is only an hour from Belfast (it took us about four since we drove along the coast and stopped in various spots along the way.)  It’s Northern Ireland’s most popular tourist destination, which was hard to believe as there were maybe ten other people there.    We had to get the rental car back and so couldn’t stay for sunset (at almost 9:00 PM) but did get some of the long late-afternoon rays that highlighted all the amazing geometric angles of the rocks.

Cara and Brian on the Giant's Causeway.

Climbing the 'Organ'.  Don't worry Grandma, we're only about a foot off the ground.

Chris at the Giant's Casueway.

Me at the Giant's Causeway.

After dropping the rental car back at the airport, we caught a cab to our hotel.  The cabbie was amazingly helpful, kind, and genuine.  We found the same hospitality and friendliness throughout our time in Northern Ireland and Ireland!  He did make it known there was zero love lost between the folks of Belfast and Dublin, and seemed disappointed we were to spend more time in Dublin than Belfast but that didn’t stop him from being super friendly.  He explained the rules and scoring of Gaelic football (82,000 people fit into Belfast’s downtown stadium!), so the four of us can now tell you who won a game in which the final score was 4:4 to 3:6.  By the time we dumped our stuff in the rooms it was 10:00 at night.  Cara and I went for food and the guys went on a wild goose chase for beer that led them so far astray they had to get a cab back to the hotel.  

We spent the whole next day exploring and learning about Belfast.  Most will remember the Troubles of Northern Ireland, especially from 1969 through the 1980’s.  A ceasefire around 1997 saw an end to the vast majority of violence between the Catholic Nationalists and the Protestant Unionists. The tension between the Nationalists and Unionists started well before the 1969… all the way back to the 1600’s when England sent English and Scottish “Planters” to settle on the island due to fears that if Ireland gained strength it would attack England, or the Spanish would colonize Ireland and use it as a base to attack England. The “Planters” were Protestant, but the rest of Ireland was, and continues to be, Catholic.  Fast forward to 1918, when there was a vote in which an overwhelming majority of what we know now as the Republic of Ireland voted for independence from England.  The area that is now Northern Ireland, also known as The Six Counties or Ulster, voted to stay under British rule.  Fast-forward again to 1968 when a huge civil rights protest broke out in Belfast (Northern Ireland) and Britain responded with a heavy hand, which led to an uprising by the Irish Republican Army (IRA).  The two sides struggled until on Bloody Sunday British paratroopers killed 13 Catholics at a peaceful protest and guerrilla conflict ensued.  Obviously this is NOT the complete history, but it gives a general understanding of why there is still a euphemistically named ‘peace wall ‘ standing in the city separating Catholics and Protestants, why political murals are painted all over the city, and why to this day housing is segregated into  distinct Catholic and Protestant areas.  In 2010 the British government formally apologized for Bloody Sunday which, at least according to the people we talked to, seems like another step towards peace in the area.  With peace comes tourists, and with tourists comes an influx of money into the area.  People seem to understand this link and are very welcoming!  The people we talked to seemed genuinely proud of the peace, though they admit there is a long way to go.  A 60-something year old lady we met at the bus stop smilingly said “It’s not a bad year for us, you know.  We opened the Titanic museum, the Olympics are coming, and we’re getting more tourists than ever. “ 

This is a big change from Northern Ireland twenty years ago.  During our tours, we saw many bullet holes from during The Troubles and ate lunch across the street from the Europa hotel, the most bombed hotel in the world according to some (36 times!).  One really shocking remnant of the clashes between the Nationalist and the Unionists are the euphemistically named Peace Walls that separate Catholic from Protestant neighborhoods.  To this day the gates in the walls are open during the day but are still shut at night.  There are long-term plans that outline the structured dismantling of the walls but the topic is still hotly contested as many people feel the barriers are still vital to the peace of the area.  The other very prominent symbols of ‘The Troubles’ are the murals that adorn hundreds of walls throughout the country, especially in Belfast.  Some of the murals promote political beliefs, others commemorate victims to certain bombings or shootings, depict historical events, and are propaganda for paramilitary groups.

One of the Peace Walls in Belfast.

Beacon of Hope sculpture in Belfast.

One of the Murals in Belfast.



We were caught up in the sightseeing and barely made it to our 6:00 PM train to Dublin.  And I mean, barely.  The countdown was at 0:59 when Brian tossed the final suitcase and himself on board!