Trouble

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Geo: 55.1991, -6.65407

A good night's sleep at last! No door rattling, no howling wind. Just a couple of odd dreams involving trying to get out of a building that kept turning into a medieval castle.

Our first stop this morning was at St. Columba's in Drumcliffe. W.B. Yeats is buried there, along with his wife George. I've no idea why she was called George, but apparently she was American and quite a bit younger than W.B. There is also in the church grounds a high cross that dates from the 10th century. It's in fantastic condition for something that's over 900 years old.

The woman who sat behind me on the bus today kept snapping and cracking her gum. I was directly behind John the driver, and I could hear him and Declan asking each other, “Do you hear a clicking noise?” They were quite bewildered. Declan finally got up to find the source and asked me if I could hear a clicking. Discreetly as possible, I pointed behind me. He took about two more seconds and then went back to his seat. I caught up with him at St. Columba's. He had figured out it was this particular tour member and her gum, and said he was going to have to ban gum because he would be giving quite a long talk later on, and he didn't want to be interrupted by that noise. Katherine and I were smugly pleased about this because this lady has been snapping and cracking for days!

Declan played us a song by Joni Mitchell, which she sang accompanied by The Chieftains, about the Magdalen laundries. There is a film about the laundries called “The Magdalen Sisters” (there might be an e on Magdalen), and if you haven't seen it ... Well, if you're not Catholic, you will be appalled; if you are Catholic, you will be completely disgusted. These laundries were run by an order of nuns under the aegis of the Irish Catholic Church. Girls who got pregnant outside of marriage were sent there, their babies were given up for adoption, and the girls then spent years of their lives at the laundries atoning for their sin. It was not unusual for a girl to have been made pregnant by the parish priest or by her own father, but that didn't matter: she was still the sinner. Even girls who were considered “fast” or simply too pretty (i.e., too much of a temptation for men) were sent there. The laundries were basically workhouses with harsh conditions and strict punishments. They lasted well into the late 20th century.

We passed by Mulloch Mor Bay, where Lord Louis Mountbatten (a relative of Prince Philip and also Prince Charles's much-loved godfather) had a castle. In general, the people of the area liked him, even the Catholics, because he was a decent sort of man. In 1979, the IRA decided to get rid of him, so they planted a radio-controlled bomb on his fishing boat. The IRA lookout saw Mountbatten get onto the boat, but then a 17-year-old Irish Catholic boy went up to the boat to ask if he could go along fishing. Mountbatten let him come aboard. The IRA saw all of this, yet they still blew up the boat.

We stopped for a little over an hour in Donegal for lunch. A few of us had a look around Donegal Castle first (the nice lady at the entry gave us the group rate), and then Katherine, Michelle and I had lunch at the Abbey Hotel. I had one of the day's specials: a ham sandwich and vegetable soup. With all the vegetable soup in Ireland, I've eaten more vegetables in the last week and a half than I probably have in the last year! The hotel had one of those cute statues of guide dogs where you can donate money to help train them.

Not too long after, we crossed the Foyle River into Northern Ireland. Fifteen years ago, our bus would have been boarded by armed guards and our passports would have been checked; the guards would have been particularly interested in Declan's and John's passports, but they likely wouldn't have been too concerned about a bunch of Americans and Canadians, other than wondering why on earth we would want to visit. Declan gave us a long talk about Northern Ireland's recent history. The Troubles are so complicated that even though Declan's talk was very thorough, I'm still a little screwed up on what happened when and who's who, so this entry is going to be a little disjointed and not very linear. Bear with me. (PSA: For more information on the Troubles in Northern Ireland, please consult your local library. Or, you know, Google.)

The Catholic minority in Northern Ireland was discriminated against heavily by the Protestant majority. In the 1960s when the American civil rights movement was picking up speed, some Northern Irish Catholics asked the IRA (which had disbanded a few decades before) to get back together and protect them. The IRA's surviving members said no because they had no trained men and no resources. So a few hotheaded young men (Gerry Adams among them) formed the Provisional IRA (the “Provos”😉 until the IRA got itself organized. The IRA, then, which is essentially a Catholic group, wants a united Ireland free from the UK. Supporters of this idea are known as nationalists or republicans: they want one united nation.

To counteract the IRA, the Protestant Ulster Volunteer Force was formed. This force was loyal to the Queen and wanted Northern Ireland to remain part of the UK. As the name suggests, this is a Protestant group, and its supporters are generally known as unionists or loyalists: they want to maintain Northern Ireland's union with the UK.

Various acts of terrorism were perpetrated by both groups in the 1960s, and in 1969 the British Army went to Northern Ireland as a peacekeeping force but eventually began acting as the bullyboys for the unionist government. In 1972, the IRA became more violent in its efforts to kick the British out. As a result, more than 500 people died, including 14 unarmed civilians during a protest march on Sunday, January 30 in Derry. This, of course, is known as Bloody Sunday.

Declan stressed that today, following the 1998 Good Friday Peace Accord, even though various sects of the IRA and the UVF still exist, they are made up of nothing more than psychopathic thugs. He (and our guide in Derry) also stressed that the media distort everything, and that they very rarely report any of the good things or peaceful things that happen in the north. During the Marching Season each year, there are approximately 3,000 marches. One or two of the marches end up with trouble and violence and this is reported, but you never hear about the 2,998 trouble-free, peaceful marches.

When the British first came to Northern Ireland in the early 1600s, they changed the name of the town of Derry to Londonderry. How a resident refers to the city will give you a good idea of that person's religion: Catholics call it Derry, Protestants call it Londonderry. In recent years, there have been some legal challenges to the name, and people strike out the “London” part on street signs. No decision has been made, so it's often referred to half jokingly as Stroke City, which comes from calling it Derry/Londonderry (what we would call a slash, the British call a stroke).

Our guide in Derry was Martin McCrossan, who might be about 55 years old, was born and raised in Derry, is a Catholic, is married to a Protestant, has run his tours for 15 years or so, and is contracted by the British government. He was excellent. He is clearly very passionate about his city and loves being able to show people who have that distorted media-influenced view around. He walked us up onto the city walls, built by the English in the 1600s and still in excellent condition. We looked over one side of the wall to see a Protestant area known as “The Fountain.” Union Jacks were flying, curbs were painted red, white and blue, and there was a large sign reading “No surrender.” Farther along, we looked over the wall again to see another much uglier wall dividing that section of the city from a Catholic section.

Along the widest section of the wall, Martin told us that wealthy and fashionable Protestants used to parade up and down that section, and it became known as the catwalk. And that's where we get the term from.

Martin took us down off the wall to see the Bogside Murals. These huge murals are painted on the sides of blocks of flats on the street where the Bloody Sunday march occurred and depict actual events from the Troubles. Martin said that he wouldn't have been able to take a group there as recently as five years ago. As he said several times, “These are the best times we have known in Derry.” One mural shows a 14-year-old girl named Annette McGavigan. She was killed there in 1971 by crossfire and was the 100th fatality of the Troubles. In the original mural, a gun was painted next to Annette, and there was a large silhouette of a butterfly. Today, the gun has been repainted and broken, and the butterfly has been painted in pretty colors to signify that peace has finally come.

While we were on our walk, several schoolchildren walked by. Martin remarked that you wouldn't have seen that a few years ago, children walking safely home from school. And he also pointed out that some of the girls were wearing the same uniform as Annette McGavigan is in the mural.

There is a memorial to the people who were killed on Bloody Sunday. For more than three decades, the British insisted that the protestors were fired on because they fired first. The dead protestors' families kept insisting that this was not so, yet the British would not budge. Finally, after the Peace Accord, it was agreed that an inquiry would be held and a report produced. That report came out last June. David Cameron, the British Prime Minister, went on television “at quarter past three” (Martin knew the time) and admitted that the protestors had not fired first, that those 14 protestors were murdered, and he apologized. Martin said that people in Derry were walking on air for the next several days because they never thought they would see the day when not only were the victims of Bloody Sunday vindicated, but the British would apologize for what happened. Again Martin said, “These are the best times we have known.”

After Martin's tour, we all walked over the newly built Peace Bridge. It's a pretty pedestrian bridge built in an elongated S shape, and it links one side of Derry with a disused British army barracks that's currently being razed. It was such a lovely sunny day today (blue sky!), and it made Derry seem like such a nice, safe place, and definitely a hopeful place with a positive future ahead.

We got to Portrush at half past five and settled into the Ramada, which is a block away from the ocean. My room is nice and big, and the bathroom lights turn on when you get within two feet of the door. My TV also turned on by itself to welcome me to the hotel. This did nothing more than freak me out a little bit. Unfortunately, the wi-fi isn't free and actually rather pricey.

We had dinner up the road at 55 North. I had cheesy garlic bread (yum), chicken and chorizo tagliatelle (double yum), and a butterscotch sundae for dessert (yum times infinity). There was a gorgeous view of the ocean from the floor-to-ceiling windows, and a full moon came up to make it all perfect.

Tomorrow we are off to explore the Antrim Coast.

P.S. Interesting fact about Derry: One of the only places a Catholic woman could find work was in a shirt factory. All of the shirts for the Confederate Army were made in Derry!

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Comments

[Yvonne]

When in Budapest my TV came on after a few minutes in the room and freaked me out for the entire day. Someone said that when it first came on it welcomed us by name, but I didn't see that, just saw the TV come on and knew the room was haun
ted. Glad it happens elsewhere too!

[Mom]

We drpve down to Albany, OR today and will be judging the next three days....all Border Collies at their national specialty. I'm happy their computers were working this afternoon so I could read your very interesting Irish history post.I s
econd Mary......eat your veggies!