Giant's Causeway and A Not-So-Scary Rope Bridge


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April 16th 2005
Published: April 20th 2005
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Look, No HandsLook, No HandsLook, No Hands

Me on famous Carrick-A-Reed rope bridge
April 16th 2005
Portrush, Northern Ireland.

Well, would you believe it, but your Little Miss Organised can be startlingly impulsive, after all. Less than a week into my supposed Live-and-Work-Belfast plan, and my feet were unbearably itchy, ready for the next adventure. I'm not sure if it was because the city had felt too small, or that after one too many setbacks I'd gotten cranky and fed up with the job hunt, or if it was an honest-to-god unsullied desire to simply continue my travels, but I saw a mini-van with a business ad on the side promoting it for 'only £4.99/day' and couldn't get the resulting ideas out of my head. Bargain!, I'd thought, even I can afford that.

So I had been toying with the idea of renting it and taking off for Northern Ireland to see the Giant's Causeway, one of their main attractions, but it wasn't until I met and became friendly with an American girl, Faye, that it all slid into place. We're like chalk and cheese, really; she's a huge hiking fan and a bit of an extremist in that sense (is currently weighing up the pros and cons of doing more hiking even with a buggered knee that's going to need surgery sooner or later), whereas the whole extreme exercise thing to me seems a bit insane. Just give me a nice wee walk with something entertaining to look at and no possibility whatsoever of needing surgery when it's over.

But anyway we got along and I really liked her, and in no time at all - within an hour or so, actually - we had tentative plans to go to Portrush together the next morning. She was on her way and I had nothing better to do (discounting, say, the job hunt) and of course there was the liberating prospect of a van for only £4.99 a day. I was stoked. Unfortunately, I rang the advertised number only to find that, along with a few others, I'd surmised incorrectly. It was an installment-plan-on-purchasing kind of deal, not a rental. Disappointed, I phoned a few rental places, but their rates were off-putting; the whole Giant's Causeway idea quickly began to pall. But Faye simply shrugged, did some phoning of her own, and announced that there was a bus leaving in about half an hour and that she would be on it.



Hell, why not, I thought, and with some quick packing we were off, only to end up at a dead end because of some construction which wasn't happening at the time the map was printed. Bugger. But we were very lucky in that a taxi waiting for some people did a quick runner with us in the back, dropped us at the station, and didn't even charge us! What a sweetheart!

And so it was that I found myself on a bus with a near-stranger, having met less than three hours prior and concocted the whole plan in even less time, and on our way to spending the weekend together sightseeing the tip of Northern Ireland. Spontaneous, no?

The bus journey to Portrush, a small town in the very Northern part of Northern Ireland's coast, took almost three hours, much longer than I'd thought. On the map Ireland looks so small (especially compared to Aus), and the size of Belfast wasn't exactly any proof other-wise, so I had thought it would be maybe an hour, tops. But the scenery once we hit the coast was just gorgeous and I forgot that I had been so bored by Belfast. The sea cliffs and the rocky shores.....it's all breathtaking, and makes me miss home just a little.

I was quite surprised by my first glimpse of the coastal seas, though, as the water itself is not at all like in sunny North Queensland. It has a sharp, choppy appearance, almost like it could cut you if you touched it, or as if there were small angular objects pushing beneath a thin surface. In Queensland the waters are smoother, rolling in sleek waves toward the shore, but here it's like thousands of sharp, tiny, bobbing waves that don't really go anywhere because they're too busy pushing each other and in small ebbing flows against the sand. But it's lovely and foreign and intriguing and I wish I could describe it properly, or had a better camera to photograph it well.

Nonetheless, back to the story. We wandered a bit and found our way to the hostel Faye had phoned, where luckily there was a spare bed for me (what did I tell you! spontaneous! a glimpse of life without safety nets!), before we were off again. It's a fairly small and, to my eyes, uneventful town, but close by were the Giant's Causeway and the Carrick-A-Reed rope bridge, which are major tourist attractions in Northern Ireland. As the next day looked hectic and rather short, we decided to take off immediately and try to get them done that day. Our host was very kind and drove us over, I'm not even sure why, which confused me, but nonetheless we were like, "thanks!!!" Friendly lot, aren't they!!?

After a lovely scenic walk from the tourist shop along the blustery little cliff top road leading specifically to the Giant's Causeway, we had arrived at our spontaneously chosen (okay, okay, am letting it go now) destination. And while it wasn't exactly the thrill of my life, it was intriguing and quite amazing that these perfectly hexagonal basalt rock pillars had managed to form all by themselves, naturally, from mud after a volcano or something similar - even the Irish aren't sure how, precisely. Astonishing. We took some photos and hopped up and down a few pillars and marveled at it; then off we went to experience the Carrick-A-Reed rope bridge, which was only a short bus ride away.

After paying and walking the 1km path (a lot of it very hilly, gasp!) to the famous little rope bridge between the mainland and Carrick-a-Reed island, it was a bit of a disappointment to find that this, also, would prove to be only a small thrill. Of course, I knew it wouldn't truly be dangerous as they've got to have public insurance liability and all of that, but the experience just really wasn't a heart-stopper. And the rope bridge itself was a bit short, too, and quickly crossed, whereas I'd half convinced myself that it would be more like a Hollywood-inspired half-kilometre of wildly swaying and slightly-rotted boards. But, oh, the scenery! Looking back at the coast was such a pleasure, with its soaring cliffs and green, green hills and grey-blue sea crashing against the land. And there were no fences around the little island's cliffs, so it was exciting to see how close you could get to the edge before your courage failed and you stumbled back. Oh, and the ground in places was made of strange, springy, green, mossy earth! You could jump a little and it would actually bounce back like an earthy trampoline. Such fun!

Unfortunately, we missed the last bus back (and we'd bought return tickets, too, so wasted money, as well as time) and were forced to hitch back. Well, that's not entirely correct. We were forced to TRY to hitch back. We walked and walked and walked, all with our thumbs out for a lift, but nobody stopped. Many were single guys or cars with plenty of room, too, and we were hardly anything to be afraid of. But I guess they were afraid, because for the first three miles (or almost eight kilometres) of nothing but paddocks and roads, nobody stopped. And much of the road itself is so narrow, with absolutely no room for pedestrians, that when both sides of the road had cars on it we had to clamber up onto the steep mossy embankments alongside the road and cling to the fencing and try not to fall down until the vehicles had taken turns passing.

It was actually quite lovely scenery, with gamboling lambs in the paddocks alongside, softly rolling green hills, bracing breezes, and glimpses of the coast and the sea on the right. We laughingly swore at the empty, heartless cars cruising past, and the stupid, indecipherably penitent looks on some of the driver's faces as they held their hands up as if to say, "sorry". And I'd yell, "no, you're not, you bastard!" at his disappearing tailgates, and we'd laugh ourselves silly and sigh with exasperation. If we weren't facing the possibility of another thirty miles, it would have been enjoyable. But as it was, by the time somebody stopped, the laughter had an edge of hysterics and we were very glad to see those brake lights.

I should explain, before continuing, that though Faye is indeed an avid hiker, because of her knee injuries downhill or level surfaces tend to become a problem after a while, and so that's why she was glad for the ride. Me, it was the eight k's of walking, regardless of altitude, that did it - mind you, only because I walk so very much these days and had spent the previous day and that morning walking......otherwise eight k's is nothing, nothing at all......ha-ha, yes, I'm sure I have you convinced.

Regardless, we were taken into the graces of a lovely older lady from Belfast and her young French companion (I suspected an international home stay situation), who were up for a weekend break to see the sights. They were even kind enough to go ten minutes beyond their destination to drop us at Portrush, when they were staying at a hotel on the road between Portrush and the Causeway. With profuse thanks, we left them and wandered our way back to the hostel, where after only a short break we were off again in search of some grub and a more extensive understanding of the town.

It's incredibly cold on the coast, as one would expect, with arctic sea winds on top of the country's already lowered temperatures. Yet that does not seem to deter examples of nutty locals. Just as in England, there were a few short-skirted, barely-clothes chickies walking around, and if you think that they don't feel the cold, then think again. One of them had positively purple skin! The sacrifices we make in the name of fashion...... and ice cream! I couldn't believe, on my second day in London, and possibly the coldest of my life, that there were people walking around with ice creams in the streets! Well, same here! Damned insane. Perhaps, by lowering their own internal body temperature, the contrast between it and their environment is less brutal? Who knows?

Dinner was lovely, and after more walking and sightseeing it was Faye, who is a huge sweets and chocolate fan but manages to not look like it, what with all her hiking, who insisted we have dessert.....yum. So it’s been an exhilarating (and spontaneous! lol) day, all in all; and tonight will be my first in a coed dorm, too.

This should prove interesting.


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14th July 2007

be a little sympathetic
It seem to me that you are missing the point of why people come to ireland, as you have written but did not seem too grateful for is the kindness of the people here. You have to remember that belfast in particular is only building its self up after a years, i guess you are not easily excited or are one of those people who's glass is half empty!!
28th July 2008

carrick a reed rope bridge not scarey any more!
to guess what a thrill carrick a reed used to be, try to find photos taken before the bridge was re-engineered to make it more safe. if you can fin photos on the net taken in the 80's you'll gasp!
12th August 2008

re: "be a little more sympathetic"
Dear Elaine, Thank you for your response. In an aside, it really is quite lovely to see how many proud Irish people commented angrily in response to my unflattering blog. In retrospect, of course it was small-minded and unfair, and I am ashamed of much of what I wrote/how I initially viewed my travels. In my defence, I was young, at the beginning of my travels when in Ireland, homesick, and still thrown by every little travelling set-back that inevitably befalls the traveller. So I wrote with an irritated and ignorant hand and am sorry. Over the subsequent two years of travel (for which I was too busy actually travelling and have not - will never, at this point - written about), I do not believe I made the same mistake, and in fact would recommend every country and every experience - even the scary ones! (Experiences, not countries, lol). I fondly remember many beautiiful scenes in Ireland and very much look forward to returning one day with an open mind and heart... and a more thorough research attempt ; )
26th August 2009

Rope Bridge
I was near here a few years ago and I thought it looked very scary, did not go over it. Your picture does not look scary but it does not show the water below.

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