Day 1 - Friday 9 Oct - heading north
Destination Sligo on the west coast, but a little to cover in between first.
We considered spending some time in Belfast. In particular, there's Titanic Belfast - a visitor experience built on the historic slipways where the RMS (also SS) Titanic was designed and launched. Fascinating no doubt. But it would take time from our limited itinerary, and another big city where there's a small but not insignificant chance of sectarian violence, so we'll skirt around it.
We set the GPS for Carrickfergus on the northern side of the city, and take the coast road up to Torr Head. Squally showers are blowing through, turbine blades are spinning wildly, and patches of sunshine amongst the clouds make for some dramatic scenery.
Pauline is particularly keen to go to Whitehead for the picturesque houses on the waterfront.
Shades of Burano in Venice. But Whitehead isn't unique. As we travel north we see many groups of houses similarly coloured.
Lunchtime sees us in Larne, and every traveller's dream. A free parking space with sea views, a coffee cart, and clean toilets. If it hadn't been for the wind and wet picnic seats from the previous squall we'd have had lunch closer to the beach.
Sadly not, but we do stumble upon a repurposed phone box. Everyone's got a mobile phone these days so why not turn the old phone boxes into information centres or book swap hubs?
Have to wonder why they put in an arched tunnel right on the coast rather than just making a cutting. Perhaps it's historical, or cheaper than a high retaining wall if the ground is crumbling.
Our BnB is quite unassuming.
Modern inside, but the floor-level oven offends Pauline's kitchen design sensibilities. Fancy pulling a large hot roast out of that! But it is designed that way - there's a hob on top so it can't be installed higher.
There are some interesting quirks about British and Irish homes. Often the kitchen doubles as the laundry, and sometimes there's a washing machine included with the appliances. The kitchen sink does double duty as a laundry tub, so a plastic dish in the sink is used for washing dishes, while the sink itself is used for washing smalls. Increasingly historical now, but the tradition persists.
With a huge stock of older houses their energy efficiency is poor, even though many have been retrofitted with double glazing. Boilers/HWCs try to keep the interior warm by pumping hot water through radiators. It's dropped to 5°C overnight but the interior temperature is hardly balmy at 17°. We're invited to light the fire if we wish, but it's easier to put on a jersey. With old housing stock, inefficient heating and no cooling these guys are going to have a hard time as energy costs and summer temperatures bite with climate change. But in NZ we've got nothing to crow about - just a bit of luck that our winters are milder. Our building standards are poor, and our idiot Government has pushed improvements to the standard into the next decade. We can still build code-compliant houses that have cold, mouldy rooms in winter and are furnaces in summer.
The other interesting observation is that they're all low pressure hot water systems. To improve guest experiences most BnBs have a pressure booster like this:
But it's the location of our BnB place that counts. We're on the north coast near Bushmills - and according to our travel guide it means we're soon going to make our acquaintance with this guy, or his family. Just like my Mum and Dad did decades ago - will be good to follow in their footsteps.
Day 2 - Decisions
It's wet and blustery. 95%+ chance of rain, winds are averaging 40kph and gusting to at least twice that. We decide to postpone our appointment with Finn and go for a drive along the coast instead. We'd anticipated situations like this - travelling in Ireland in October means we have to expect schedule changes, and have factored in additional time as a result. And every now and then it's nice to have a sleep-in and relaxing morning rather than an insistent imperative to hit the next tourist spot.
We head back east along the coast and take in Dunseverik castle. So ruined even the black-faced sheep can't take shelter. Whitecaps and swell are very evident though.
Ballintoy Harbour gets us up close to the swell pounding through the rocks.
Carrick-a-rede (rock of the casting) Island sits at a point where Atlantic salmon migrate close to shore. In 1755 salmon fishermen created the first rope bridge spanning the 20m wide chasm, 30m above the sea. The first incarnation had a single handrail and wide slats, but the latest 2008 version better complies with safety standards. It's a popular tourist attraction, though still daunting. Apparently some tourists can't contemplate the return journey and need to be taken off the island by boat.
The Salmon of Knowledge is a bit pissed. He advises me that in the 1960s, catches of up to 300 of his compatriots a day were common, but stocks collapsed due to overfishing and pollution. The last salmon was caught here in 2002.
We content ourselves with pictures instead.
With time to spare in the afternoon we figure a trip along the north coast to the west is in order. Sea foam is being blasted up the cliff faces and across the road, which makes for a novel driving experience.
The platform cantilevering out from the cliff edge at Portrush is fun.
Is that a wind turbine I can just see in the top left? Yup - a lucky inclusion.
After a coffee at Lost & Found cafe where we can watch the surf crash into the bay without being blown away we head further west to the Magilligan Martello Tower at Point Bar.
Martello towers are named after a fort in Corsica which successfully withstood bombardment from the Royal Navy in 1794. The Brits were so impressed they copied the design and replicated it over 200 times. There's even one in Sydney Harbour.
This one was built in 1812 to fend off Napoleon, and then a threat from the USA associated with maritime disputes and trade restrictions. A pill box was added during WW2. But the garrison never fired a shot in anger - the last attempt to invade Ireland (other than the British themselves) was by the French in 1798.
There was just one little potential problem driving out to Point Bar. We go past the Magilligan Prison, which sits in the middle of the British Army's active live firing range used for small‑arms and heavy‑weapons training. Security cameras capture all vehicles travelling up and down the road. We're driving a hire car with Dublin plates. We could well be suspicious. Does our presence trigger a numberplate lookup and research into our identities? Does it trigger a machine gun aimed in our direction? I have to wonder.
So we've done the north coast of Ireland from Torr Head in the east to Point Bar in the west, and everything in between. Except for one final visit.
Day 3 - Giants and west
Good call - Sunday morning is sunny and the wind's dropped to 10kph. Perfect for a walk to catch up with Finn McCool. We park at the local pub for £10, knowing we can cash the receipt in for refreshments after our visit. We ask the way to Finn's place. "Oh, just down those steps and out the causeway".
Now the causeway is made of giant stepping stones, leading all the way to Scotland. However it appears that the vast majority of the world's geologists claim they're not cleverly crafted hexagonal stepping stones made by a giant at all. Instead they claim they were formed when thick lava cooled, contracted, and cracked into geometric shapes about 50–60 million years ago.
What a bunch of academic, socialist wokesters! All they do is compete for research grants funded by hard-working taxpayers.
Anyone can plainly see these stones have been hand-crafted.
Just like the parking lot at the Hotel.
Just look at those flat tops, tight joints, and step‑like terraces.
I meet one of Finn's descendants nearby, a big lad he is too. He says he's got good geological knowledge and is a reliable source of truth. He has no idea who Big Giant is. "Never heard of them and never received any money from them", he says. Well, not much anyway.
Here's the true, factual, carefully researched document about what really happened.
The Causeway was actually built by Irish warrior giant Fionn mac Cumhaill (Finn McCool), so he could fight rival Scottish giant, Benandonner. This explains both the stones in Antrim and the matching ones in Scotland. Beat that, geologists!
However when Fionn saw Benandonner approaching over the causeway, he realised the Scottish giant was far bigger than he was. Fionn fled home, terrified.
This is where his wife Oonagh devised a plan. A plan so cunning you could pin a tail on it and call it a weasel (thanks Blackadder). Anyway, I digress.
She disguised Fionn as a giant baby and laid him in a cradle. When Benandonner arrived and saw the enormous “infant” he panicked: If the baby is this big… what size is the father?
Benandonner fled back to Scotland, ripping up the causeway behind him - leaving only the ends at Antrim and Staffa.
He even left his boot behind in the rush.
Which leaves us with just two observations.
- Cognitive dissonance be damned. I need to believe!
- It pays to have a smart wife. Pauline couldn't agree more!
We come off the causeway
and head for the organ pipes. I'm sure I don't need to tell you how these were made.
All in all quite a surreal experience.
The cliff walk back increased the heart rate a bit.
The hooded crows take it all in their stride though.
I'm glad we did the Giant's Causeway early. An hour later it was full of tourists bussed in from Belfast and Dublin, and from a distance could be mistaken for the Muriwai gannet colony.
First stop the Grianan of Aileach, a stone ringfort on top of Greenan mountain, with panoramic views in all directions. It was built in the 6th-7th century where it was royal seat of the Kingdom of Ailech, a major Gaelic stronghold, and was significantly restored in the 19th century after being plundered first by the Vikings then by the King of Munster.
Good to see a restoration that appears reasonably consistent with the original. We saw one in Crete years ago that bore little resemblance to the original, and was more the product of the architect's imagination.
We're heading to the top left headland next.
Where the Fanad Head lighthouse is - the northernmost tip of the WAW (Wild Atlantic Way) we're about to start exploring.
Our BnB is near Cliffoney, just north of Sligo, an excellent base for two days of exploring.
Unassuming, wifi is rubbish, the fridge wasn't on and the door doesn't lock, but a nice spot in the country.
After a great day there's a bit of an anti-climax. Pauline's booked a well-regarded seafood restaurant to save us cooking and dishwashing after a long day. Anticipating wild Atlantic salmon on the menu, we were disappointed to find the dinner menu had just been replaced with the lunch menu. Battered fish and chips for main - no thanks. The prawn cocktail had one real but lukewarm prawn on top, and the remaining tinned prawns and dressing was transported direct from the seventies. Every now and then you get a travel disappointment - just adds to the overall experience, and something to look back on with a laugh.
The next post will be all about the WAW - stay tuned.
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