The Antrim Coast

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We hated to leave the wonderful Rossahilly House in Enniskillen this morning - it was certainly a beautiful B & B with a lovely couple as hosts - Eric & Monica Bell. No doubt the view from our bedroom was better here than at any other place we've been on this trip (see photo). And to top it off, the Bells probably made the best brown bread we've eaten, too - delicious, and served warm, straight from the oven. After a stroll through their gardens, we were back in the car, headed for the Antrim Coast.

Old Bushmills

Bushmills Website

I'm not much of a drinker myself, though I have been known to partake of a variety of adult libations. But the Baron is quite serious in his appreciation of spirits, so a tour through the Old Bushmills Distillery was on our to-do list. And even for a teetotaller like me, the tour did not disappoint. As a lover of history, how could I resist seeing the world's oldest whiskey distillery? Old Bushmills has been licensed by the Crown since 1608 - King James, you know, the one of Bible fame? - granted their license. How's that for historic? Naturally, at the end of the tour, Tim was very happy to volunteer for a whiskey tasting, for which he was rewarded with a handsome certificate naming him as a qualified Irish whiskey taster. Our stop in the Bushmills store is sure to make us popular with friends back home, as Tim selected bottles for our drinking friends, and even one for our own bar that is specially labeled just for us. (At ₤10 extra for the special label, Bushmills is certainly making a tidy little profit on folks like us!)

Giant's Causeway

After doing our part to ensure a good 2nd quarter report for Bushmills, we made the short drive to the Giant's Causeway. We've heard it called the eighth wonder of the world, and it's easy to see why! It's really hard to imagine that all those basalt columns are the result of some act of nature - but then again, nature is probably a better force for creating beauty in symmetry than man will ever be. The shape of the columns reminded me of a carbon molecule, which started an interesting conversation between my molecular biologist husband and me. (Well, I thought it was interesting, but I'm not sure my husband would agree.) I myself have only the most rudimentary knowledge of science, having been a language major in college, so I frequently annoy my husband with questions about science. It's not unusual for him to respond with something like this: "I can't answer that; you're not talking about the molecular level. Ask me about the molecular level and I can help you." In this particular instance, I was sure I could draw him into discussion since I was starting with my comment about the columns being giant carbon molecules. I speculated that these basalt columns were not the product of same ancient volcanic activity, but rather were left here eons ago by some race of aliens who wanted to mark this planet as habitable. Carbon is after all the basis of all life as we know it. Or maybe these columns are in fact the remains of a race of giants, alien or otherwise. I had a plethora of similar ideas, but my molecular biologist husband was skeptical about all the various hypotheses I set before him.

For some great photos of the Giant's Causeway, along with a little science and history, visit Wikipedia's page or the Original Official Site of the Northern Ireland Tourist Board.

Just a few miles down the road is the Carrick-A-Rede Rope Bridge. Getting to the bridge involved a lot more walking than we expected, and given the long walk we had already made to explore just a few of those 40,000 basalt columns, I wasn't sure whether my legs would be able to carry me all the way to the bridge, much less across it. But it was a beautiful day, so I pressed onward. (Tim never seemed to slow down, which made me wonder again, as I have so often - Is it less tiring for a 6'1" tall man than for a 5'4" woman to cover the same ground? He does, after all, take fewer steps, so surely that means he's burning fewer calories? It's a mystery.)

After what seemed like miles of walking, we finally made it to the bridge. According to our guide book, the bridge is 59 feet across and 79 feet above the sea, but the distance seemed even greater. If a person is inclined to homicide or even suicide, this would be a good place to carry it out successfully. I don't recommend either, naturally. With the high winds, walking across this suspended rope bridge was a real adventure, but well worth the steeling of nerves it requires.

The North Antrim tourism website has a couple of good photos; the one on the left gives a good perspective of the bridge in relation to its surroundings.... I walked across that??? Back and forth no less!

Belfast

We drove south along the winding coast road (which is sometimes much too close to the coast for my comfort!) for an hour or so before switching to the main road that took us further inland, and on to Belfast. We checked in to the Europa, known as the most bombed hotel in all of Northern Ireland during "the Troubles" but now a sparkling, modern 4-star hotel with probably the best shower we had during our entire trip. (The water pressure was only so-so, though still better than in many places across Ireland, but what made this one a stand-out was the giant "rainshower" style head - fabulous!)

Here we were glad to meet a new friend, one introduced to us in advance via e-mail, the Rev. Bill Shaw, director of the 174 Trust, a non-profit organization working for peace and reconciliation in Northern Ireland. We had a superb (truly!) dinner in the Europa's Piano Bar Restaurant, which is much more elegant than the name might imply. And these folks provided magnificent service. When I commented that I would kill for some iced tea, the waitress reported same to the manager, who brought a glass to me. I don't think the waitress had a clue what iced tea might be, but apparently the manager has traveled to podunk places like Texas where iced tea is a staple and understood how it should be served. Lovely.

Tim and I were fascinated to learn more about the work being done by Bill Shaw and the 174 Trust, so we kept the good Reverend longer than we should have. At the end of another long day of driving, walking, and sight-seeing, we were glad to turn in for the night. We quickly discovered two things that put a slight crimp in our otherwise pleasant stay here. (1) Like most places on this island, the Europa has no air conditioning, but we were happy to see that the windows open. (2) In addition to bringing in some fresh air, the open window brings in the noise of the rowdy crowd at the popular Crown Bar, which is directly across the street from the Europa. We tried to compromise by keeping the window open but the drapes drawn - not perfect, but at least it allowed us to get to sleep while the rest of Belfast (at least that's what it sounded like anyway) partied across the street.

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