Disclaimer: This may upset some sensitive types out there or people who lick the Queen's boots, but in this post when I refer to Ireland, it will generally mean both Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland as a whole. We were back and forth between the countries numerous times, often in the same day. So, instead of typing 'The Republic of Ireland" or "Northern Ireland", I'm just going to use "Ireland." If the cause calls for it, I will specifically refer to the country proper.
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Ah, Ireland. The home of leprechauns, fairies, billions of sheep, rainbows, potatoes and Guinness Stout. It's also home to some of the nicest, most friendly people that you will ever meet. Ireland and Northern Island sit on a wee island in the eastern Atlantic Ocean, a stones throw from Scotland, Wales and England - and I mean this literally. This isn't bravado talking and I'm not taking a piss at the size of the country, but I'm pretty sure that I could hit Portpatrick in Scotland with a stone thrown from Donaghadee in Northern Ireland. But anyway, back to the people being nice. I have traveled here and there, been around the block as they say, and I have not met a nicer people than those I've found on the green isle of Ireland. Helpful, accommodating, generous, funny, fun-loving, polite - these are just a few words to describe the people who live there. God, what a pleasant change after living in Germany the last few years!
If there is one downfall to the island, it's the wetness of the place. Yes, it rains in Ireland - a lot! And it's often grey and blustery to boot. Now, I'm only basing this off of 10 days of being in country and a three day trip to Dublin back in May, but from my personal observations and what I've gathered from the locals, a 'nice' day is when it's not raining sideways and the wind is below 20 knots. But, the dampness and the clouds - it's different in Ireland. The landscape is perfectly built for such weather, soaking up the rain, producing vistas draped with bright green carpets of grasses and bushes. It is surprising, that in such a supposedly dreary place, just how bright things are. It also helps that the locals are used to this type of weather and don't let it affect their lives. I've been to many places where a few raindrops or even a threat of dampness drives everyone indoors and off of the streets. This is not so in Ireland, where the possibility of rain on any given day is almost a sure thing. Life goes on, even when it rains, and the Irish deal with what weather conditions they have better than most and more cheerfully than anyone.
We arrived in Belfast and the weather was as expected - Drizzly, windy and grey. Ahead of us was an hour and a half drive in our rental vehicle, a nice Landrover, to Culdaff located in Country Donegal, Republic of Ireland. For the driving portion of our trip, we brought along our trusty navigation system hoping that it would direct us to Culdaff with no problems. There are basically two routes to Culdaff from Belfast. One involves driving to Derry and then north up the peninsula while the other follows the coastline which eventually leads to a Ferry crossing of Lough Foyle and is the most direct way. From what I had researched on the internet, I was pretty sure that the route to Derry would be the best choice since the roads were supposedly better and more well-traveled. I needed something easy, something to bolster my confidence of driving on the 'wrong' side of the road. Our GPS unit would have none of it, however. I tried to trick it by following signs to Derry, ignoring the directions to 'go 1.5km and make a U-turn' to get us back on the GPS's preferred path – the shortest route. Eventually, the GPS won. At one point, I had no clue where we were and no signs for Derry had been observed for at least a half an hour. Much to our demise, we found ourselves at a Ferry dock, ready to shell out the 12 Euros for the crossing. But, as often happens in these moments, serendipity struck and we ended up eating one of the best hamburgers we've ever had in Europe. The small restaurant next to the dock provided the food and luckily we had enough time between Ferries for Dawn to run over and get a burger to go.
That night we met up with my good friend Markus and his new wife Jennifer at the River House in Culdaff, the cottage they were staying in for their visit. We had a good, albeit short, visit with them before deciding to turn in for the night. Dawn and I were still very tired from the wedding activities of the previous week and needed a good night’s rest knowing that the next day would be a busy one. I didn't end up sleeping quite as long as I would have liked, but felt refreshed the next morning and relished in having a lazy morning reading the newspaper and generally relaxing before everyone else awoke. When everyone was finally up, showered and we had some food in our bellies, we discussed what we were going to do during the day. We decided on doing some hiking along the coast and visiting some areas where Markus had not been on previous trips. As soon as we were geared up and ready to leave, there was a knock on the door. It was Mark Patterson, an old friend of Markus's, who had driven down from Derry with his girlfriend Sinead to see what we were up to. Our plans were immediately set aside as Mark had shown up with some fresh lamb that needed to be prepared for the evening’s meal. He also wanted to give us a tour of some local megalithic ruins in the area and we jumped at the opportunity. We ended up visiting four or five sites, all beautiful and haunting reminders of times past in Ireland. For a while, I even thought we were on a hunt for whales. It turns out, we were looking for old wells, something I would embarrassingly learn later after my Irish accent translator was tuned in better.
That evening we ate a fantastic meal of fresh lamb and what seemed like 20 side dishes. Josh and Carrie, two Yanks living and working in Belfast and long-time acquaintances of Markus, also joined us for dinner. There were plenty of laughs to go around - as they say in Ireland, the craic was good! After enjoying the meal and gulping down pints of cider and glasses of wine, we headed over to McGrorys, a local Inn and Pub that often hosts fantastic musical acts and concerts. That night, an Irish band was playing, a well-known act in the country that we were very lucky to be seeing during our stay. The concert was great, but what happened afterword in the pub was even better. On Friday nights at McGrorys, musicians gather to 'jam' in the pub, playing old classic Irish songs and also freestyling, playing whatever comes to them in that moment of inspiration. On this Friday night, not only were there the usual musicians, but members from the band that played that night also joined in. Mark joined in the musical melee on guitar and Sinead picked up the Bodhran, an Irish drum, banging away, both of them truly enjoying themselves and doing a damn good job of keeping up with the others. As the night wore on, pint upon pint of Guinness and Cider were consumed and eventually, the Irish whiskey made an appearance. After a couple of shots, I knew I was done for and finally headed up to our room in McGrorys (Dawn and I checked in earlier that day) around 4am. Mark and Sinead had shown us a great day and they had plans for us the next day, too. I was a bit afraid of what those plans would be considering a few of us got fairly pissed (drunk) and had gone to bed so late.
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This post is turning out a bit longer than I thought it would. I'll get on with the rest of it tomorrow. I may even have to divide it up in to a few sections. We experienced so much on our trip that I'd hate to leave anything out. Tomorrow - our surf experiences in Ireland. It only resulted in one hospital visit and I will now have a nice souvenir from our trip (it's not that bad - promise!).
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