Northern Ireland, day 3

On Saturday, the whole group assembled at the University for a bus tour along the north coast, finishing at the Giant's Causeway. We had the same lovely tour guide, who seems to be a walking encyclopedia of the country. We drove out of Belfast, past a mountain that is supposed to be remniscent of a giant reclining, and the inspiration of "Gulliver's Travels."

It doesn't take long to drive out of Belfast, which, like all British cities it seems, has houses very close together so a largish population is in a relatively small space. We passed Larne, and then got onto the very picturesque coast road. This is literally one or two metres away from the sea. The hills slope sharply towards it. The countryside is very craggy and rough, and the road had to be blasted out 150 years ago or so. Until then, the north of the country was completely isolated, and people tended to take the boat over 12 miles to Scotland, rather than try a trip to more southerly parts of Ireland. The beaches have black and white stones intermixed, basalt and limestone and a bit of chalk. It was lovely. Past the worst of the crags were so-called 'ladder' farms, with fields divided like the steps of a ladder down to the sea. Farmers could have the sheep in the top fields in the summer, and get bits of seaweed from their bits of beach to fertilise their crop.

We stopped at one little coastal village for a cup of coffee and stretch of leg. Here is a picture of Jack near the little harbour. We drove on to another spot which had a perilous rope bridge to a little island. Here is a picture of the family with the Scottish Mull of Kintire in the background.

Eventually we reached the Giant's Causeway. It is a series of pillars of rocks in angular shapes, stretching out into the sea towards the north. Scientists say it is volcanic, but students of Irish folk stories know it was the work of the giant Finn McCool who was building a path towards Scotland but got put off by a larger Scottish giant. I was very proud that Eleanor knew this story well from one of her picture books, and could instruct her inferiorly trained science teacher father in the legend.

Although the day had started out a bit cloudy and drizzly, it was beautiful sunshine at our destination. We actually enjoyed an ice cream at the tourist shop. (A nice honeycomb one was the local specialty.) We took the overland route back to Belfast, which was quicker, if not so spectacular.

Well, our day had not finished yet. A Ceili was arranged for our last night; dinner and dancing. It was to be at Malone House, a grand old manorial building. Several of us suffered some embarrassment, as a couple of Aussies had procured some leprechaun hats and beards, and we were afraid of being beaten up at the University bus stop on a busy Saturday night. Thankfully, we were unmolested.





Malone House was beautiful, and silver service was laid on. The children were now all friendly, so we quickly stuck them all on one table, the better to enjoy adult company. (Some childless Americans quickly snaffled the bottles of wine laid out on this same table before we parents were aware of it. We will never forgive them.)
It was a lovely meal. Then there was the Irish dancing, which was done with enthusiasm, if not expertise. Luckily it was guided set-dancing, rather than the 'River Dance' sort; so the locals were spared some leaping about of the 'Kath and Kim' variety which I think we were all gearing up for, lubricated by wine and Guiness. I embarrassed Annie by making her dance with a teenage boy... then she astonished me by doing a whole polka with one of the leprechauns.





We were all up until after midnight! It was a bit of a struggle getting the girls up to catch the plane the next morning. BUT, we made it back. Cornwall looked positively tropical after our trip north, and Spring is well on the way.