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july 02 2007

The Ulster/Erie Diaries

My apologies for the delay in sharing our experience with all of you ... sometimes the best laid plans are but a folly.

- brian mccool of [the] Cork

Thursday June 21, 2007

Our rendezvous at the Nehms and subsequent meeting in Kenosha went smoothly … although the luggage looked awfully large. O’Hare International was quiet and all in all, leaving the States was not a hassle. We arrived at the airport early enough so that we had time to visit with each other and convert our US dollars to British Pounds.

We flew on an Aer Lingus Airbus (seating eight across 2-4-2) without a hitch. The flight was smooth, the crew was Irish and we began to tune our ears to the brogue of the Isle. We left at 4:30pm Central US and arrived in Dublin on Friday June 22 at 6:30 am.

Friday June 22, 2007

Passing customs was relatively easy in Dublin. We had each filled out a 3x5 card on the flight indicating our trip intentions, length of stay etc and all of this reviewed by the fine folks at the airport without an issue. Of course, we stood in line a bit and waited for baggage a wee bit more – all the while taking in the people and sounds of our home for the next ten days. It was different than Wisconsin … that much I can say.

After getting our baggage, Anthony of Antrim and myself went to pick up the rental vans. What should have taken 15 minutes took a bit longer. If we were sharing a pint or two, I’d tell you all the details, but to make a long story short … and to keep Anthony’s blood pressure at a manageable level … we had been booked the wrong vans and didn’t have enough seating. After a bit of asking around at other rental companies, we got a larger van and eventually met in the parking areas to pack and head north to Antrim.

And it was right there … in the Hertz parking lot … that the wee folk made themselves known. No, I’m not talking about Pati, I mean the really wee folk … you know, the faeries of the Isle that watch over unsuspecting fools. For you see, as we each surveyed the situation, it was apparent to the wiser of the group (that would be anyone older than 20 years of age) that it would take a miracle to fit sixteen bodies and luggage for fifty into these two vehicles. As my keen mind assessed our predicament I came to thinking … ‘what the hell did Schonert pack in that suitcase?’ … it’s the size of a mini bus. Well, anyway, the Spell of the Shrinking Luggage was cast and we somehow crammed ourselves into the two vans and headed north.

And so it went for the next few hours, navigating the highways and byways of the south of Ireland… driving on the left – cameras clicking – doing a roundabout or two - dj Kristy mixin’ in the co-pilot’s chair - napping – listening to the steady sound of the windshield wipers as we passed through the mist of light Irish showers – napping – and of course complaining … ‘Crehan! I’m starving … I couldn’t eat that stuff on the airplane … can we get something to eat?’

And although there was nothing new about the complaining, our trip north was very Irish. The roads wind up and down hills, every turn seems to offer a postcard view of the landscape and it all felt very different … in a good way. After passing through the hills into Northern Ireland, we stopped at a roadside Take Away. No Taco Bell drive-thru here – this was the ‘Licensed To Grill’ and it was all about burgers, sausages and fish and chips. Of course, as in every stop in Northern Ireland, the people are friendly and easily take up conversation. The proprietor asked who we were playing – we told him that our first match was against the Northern Ireland U-19 National team – and he kindly told us – in typical Irish manner – that we were to get our asses kicked. Well … to make a long story short … and to keep Issy’s blood pressure at a manageable level … the coach reminded us that it was going to be game time in a few hours and that we came here to play football and represent our Country. Ah … business and pleasure can be a delicate mix.

We found our way into Antrim and Anthony of said town drove us to the home of his Uncle Eddie and Aunt Agnes. It was the girls first opportunity to learn a bit about the fabric of this country … about the Troubles, the bonfires and the divide that is slowly closing. Uncle Eddie is Irish as can be and if you can understand ten percent of what he’s saying … well you’re on your way to being a local. It was a quick visit and as with many things on this trip, it offered an intimate look at this land. This wasn’t a glossy travel brochure. It was the real deal. 'Tony ... you know what's up'.

Next stop was the Bed and Breakfast on Belfast Road; proprietors Dougie and Sylvia. Several of us were at one location and the majority of the girls were down the road at another location. Dougie and Sylvia are a wonderful slice of Northern Ireland. They are friendly and helpful and you felt that you were a guest … this wasn’t Holiday Inn. The girls quickly unpacked, donned their uniforms and we all headed out to the outer Belfast area to an Irish Football Association training center to play the Northern Ireland National U19 team. The girls were of course a bit nervous. The drive was beautiful and location was pulled from a postcard. The rolling hills - the grey clouds – the wind.

As is always the case, the girls arose to the occasion and played a well fought match. I think they caught the Northern Ireland team a bit off guard and the score was tied 2-2 at half. I climbed the hill overlooking the pitch to talk with Anthony of Antrim. I met Billy of Belfast, who was to become one our dear friends of the trip. We talked football, watched the shadows grow longer and commented that the girls were making a show of it – although by now the jet lag had set in and the conditioning of the national squad was all too apparent. Of course we later learned from the national team’s assistant that a secret weapon had been unleashed on us … the Jaffa wafer.

Following the match, we walked back to the training center building and took part in what we learned is a European custom – the post game gathering around food and drink. I’m sure I ate at least 15 sandwich wedges. The ‘man of the match’ awards were presented, we talked with the Northern Ireland players and all in all had a good time. It was near the end of a very long day and although it was near 11:00 pm, the sky was of a color more like dusk than the pitch black of night that we are accustomed to at home. A quick trip to Tescos, some microwave pizzas and off to let Dougie and Sylvia that we were home.

Saturday June 23, 2007

We arose to the smell of the Ulster Fry breakfast, with Dougie and Sylvia serving up large portions of eggs, ham, soda bread, potato bread and just about anything else you might want to eat. It all had a very personal touch. I thought it was great! - although many of the girls were not prepared to eat such a large meal right after rolling out of bed. Thereafter, Sylvia would prepare fewer meals and many of the girls would have cereal.

We then went to downtown Antrim to take in the local flavor and do some shopping. Now although there are tourists in Antrim, the town has an authentic local feel. If you were adventuresome, you could walk into any of the dozens of little shops to buy souvenirs, sports wear, food etc. I think most of the girls took a conservative view of the opportunity and only took in a few shops. I for one had one of those ‘Irish experiences’ where I found myself in long conversation with a shop owner who didn’t hesitate to share the details of the last five years of his rather colorful life. It was all good, after all, I didn’t have a schedule, I was in Antrim, and he obviously had a few stories he needed to share.

We packed it up and went to the booming part of Antrim, the growing shopping mall area to eat at Moe’s, a restaurant owned by Denny, the brother of Billy of Belfast. It’s hard to march sixteen people into a restaurant without drawing some attention, but as always, everyone was accommodating and we feasted on over a dozen mini pizzas of all flavors. I enjoyed the tuna-shrimp pizza. The pineapple pizza seemed to be a big hit as well.

The girls walked across the car park (parking lot) to the Junction One Shopping Mall while the boys went to a hardware store to begin solving the electrical system conundrum. Different plugs, different voltage and so many electrical devices such as still/video cameras to charge. We had time to visit, take in a pint, talk to an electrician and come up with a solution. As is often the case, the people were oh so helpful.

We then packed it up and went back to downtown Antrim to see a dress rehearsal of the July 12th parades. These parades, along with the large bonfires commemorate episodes in the tumultous history between the Protestant British loyalists and the Catholic Irish of Northern Ireland. The celebrations in Antrim as in most of Northern Ireland, reflect the Protestant perspective. All I can say is that the wounds of sectarianism are apparently healing but the scars have not yet faded. Anyway, there we are ... listening to drummers and tin whistles and watching baton throwers and other parade goers when we realize that Pati is missing! We had forgotten to make sure Pati was with us before leaving the shopping mall. All 5 foot 2 inches of her was missing. What to do? Leave the parade early or save the unsuspecting Irish from an unfettered Pati. Heck, we watched the parade to the end, returned to the shopping mall and eventually discovered that Pati had taken a cab back to the Bread and Breakfast. Those chaperones, you really need to keep your eye on them.

It being our first full day in Antrim, The Boys (Tony, Issy, Joe and your humble author) felt a deep responsibility to partake in a sampling of the local refreshment. We went down to a local establishment called the Cova Inn and had a few pints; struck up a conversation with a coach of a Boys team that regularly goes to the USA Cup in Minnesota and otherwise had a good visit. We then returned to the Bread and Breakfast to see if the girls were ready for their visit to downtown Antrim. They were ready.

After making some last minute changes in the itinerary, we decided to go to a relatively quiet establishment called the Back Shed Pub. Well, aside from going to Kelly's (more on that later), it's hard to march into any place with twelve ladies and not draw a wee bit of attention. And that we did.

To make a long story short, it was recommended that we leave.

We went to Plan B and retreated to Moe's, which happened to be featuring Kareoke singing that night. The poor regulars at Moe's didn't know what they were in for. To make a long story short, the girls entertained the crowd with their versions of 'YMCA', 'Champions of the World' and 'Celebrate'. The owner of Moe's suggested that we take an extended break.

All for the best ... it was late, probably about 1:00am and we all headed home.

Sunday June 24, 2007

The day started slowly ... thank God. We were to prepare for a match against the Newtonaabbey Strikers and some among us would have a hard time telling you which continent they were on much less getting ready for a game. The Boys took a trip to downtown Antrim to pick up a few items and then took a quick walk-through of the Antrim Castle Centre grounds as well as the Antrim Forum, which is modern athletics facility.

After gathering up the girls, we took about a 45 minute drive to a public training area [City of Belfast Training Fields] to prepare. Newtonabbey, a highly regarded team in the Women's premier league, came with two squads and were ready to play. I don't believe they were at Moe's doing Kareoke. Anyway, we were down 3-0 at half time but managed to make more of a game of it in the second half (against the Strikers' second squad). I believe the final was 6-3 in their favor.

We then set out to a restaurant for the traditional post game get together. We feasted on sausages, rolls, fruit drinks, the local beverage of choice and all had a good time. These post game functions were a great opportunity for everyone to learn more about the people of Northern Ireland. You get a real flavor of the culture, the beliefs and all the nuances that make a trip like this unique. Having said that, I came away believing that we all have a lot more in common than meaningful differences. Anyway, I for one always enjoyed the chance to strke up a conversation with a coach or player and ask them about their life around football - how they train, how often they compete, their style of play etc. It doesn't take long to realize that soccer is a real passion.

We then set out with Billy to Carrick-Fergus, which is a seaside town about 45 minutes drive. By now, the drizzle that had started during our match was a bit heavier, but most people of Northern Ireland don't even notice the rain unless accompanied by hurricane force gales. We parked along the seaside drive, walked around the castle (visitation hours had just ended), got a brief lesson about King Billy, I found an ATM machine and we all ate at the McDonald's located nearby. McDonald's and ATM machines - a recurring theme on this trip.

Billy then took us to the Carrick Rangers football grounds, one of the oldest playing venues in Northern Ireland. This is a place that is rich in history and at the same time adjusting to a new era. Billy shared that Carrick-Fergus is like many towns in Northern Ireland - many of the old time industries have left and many parts of the economy are adjusting for the future. It was evident from our short visit that the seaside area was thriving.

By now, dusk was approaching and the days events were catching up with us. It was time to head back to Antrim and get ready for the next days journey. Upon our late night return, Tony found an invitation from the Mayor of Antrim, asking that we pay him a visit before leaving Antrim. He'd be expecting us at 10:15 tomorrow morning. It was quite an honor.

Monday June 25, 2007

We started the day at 8:00 am with Dougie and Sylvia's Ulster Fry breakfast and then there was a flurry of activity surrounding our departure as well as the visit with the Mayor. Tony and Dougie had decided the night before that getting few bungie cords to secure some luggage to the top of the [smaller] blue van would go a long way toward making our future journies a bit more palatable on the passengers. Anyway, we somehow managed to get everyone together and packed - a feat that was at times challenging while in Antrim because the group was split up in two locations.

We bid Dougie and Sylvia farewell, thanked them for their kindness and generosity and set off to meet the Mayor.

The visit was quite an occassion as we were greeted outside the modern and very new Civic Center. The mayor, wearing the official medallion of his position, along with the local press arranged for a few photos in front of the Civic Center, followed by a tour, an official presentation and finally a get together with refreshments and food. It was all very hospitable and I was honored by how much time the Mayor was willing to share with his visitors from the United States.

It was then time to leave the shores of Lough Neagh and travel east to the costal town of Larne and then north along the Coastal Causeway. Our final destination was the town of Portstewart on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. The sun was shining (as it turned out, this would be one of our very few sunny days), the wind was blowing, there were hills to climb and curbs to hit. Oh yeah, we also had a game tonight against Ballymena.

Before setting out too far, we refueled the vans (diesel fuel is priced the same as regular gasoline - at about 95pence per litre - or $7.60 US per gallon), I stocked up on chocolate and gummy candy and off to Larne we went.

Anthony of Antrim, being of this country, was able to navigate the highways and byways, making sure that we got a real feel for Northern Ireland. Except for those times when we had to plan around a soccer match, It never seemed like we were on a schedule. We just took things as they came, stopped where it looked interesting and split up into small groups so that we each could take in what suited us most. It's hard to get lost when visiting a town of 500 people. I was taken aback at how sparsely populated it all was - it felt like we were the only visitors - everyone one else lived there. This gave all our journeys a very special feel.

For every three small towns we'd drive through, we would stop to stretch our legs or take in the view of the rugged (and windy) coast, perhaps climb a hill, or mingle with the local livestock, discuss Gaelic footbal with a local boy (on our way to the hidden remains of a church along the coastal hills), get caught in a hilltop traffic jam (three cars waiting for a local sheep herder to get his flock back to the pasture). I really can't tell you how long we stayed at any given location - I didn't have a watch - didn't have a cell phone - didn't really care. Just as long as our head count was accurate before leaving for the next leg of the trip, it was all good by me.

The girls seemed to be adjusting to this new lifestyle - of course we were rolling down the coastal roads listening to Kristi's special brand of Hip Hop and the ladies had to be fed every few hours - but hey - as long as Anthony of Antrim kept it under 80 mph on the 1 1/2 lane roads and I was ready for the next roundabout - I was good to go. By the way, the roads were in perfect condition. I didn't see a single pothole on the entire trip.

Our first stop on the Coastal Causeway gave us a chance to stetch our legs and take in the view of the coast. At this point in the journey, we were still at sea level so we could easily walk out onto the beach and engage in a competitive session of rock throwing.

We then proceeded up the coast to Glenarm where the shoreline was becoming more rugged. We had a clear view of Scotland (many of these small towns along the coast offer ferry rides to Scotland) as well as a rock face to climb. Once again, we had no schedule. A few of the more adventuresome among us made it about a third of the way up the climb. Being of sounder mind, I chose to watch from a distance and couldn't help but note how rugged the land is. Rocks and huge boulders jutting out everywhere. This gives the coastal areas as well as much of the Isle a unique personality. In the U.S. midwest, such a trip would be characterized by a patch quilt of farms and other agricultural activities. In Northern Ireland, the land is not nearly so accommodating - as we'd see on our drives through the countryside, about the onlything you can grow is sheep, (fewer) cattle and of course, potatoes.

After everyone was back at ground level, we boarded the vans and continued north to Cushendall to visit the Layd Old Church. As with many of our stops, if you didn't know where you were heading, you would not find this place. We drove into town, made a few turns (you are always turning on this island, all roads curve to conform to the rolling landscape) drove down a narrow gravel road, walked a wee bit toward the shore and whaddayaknow ... the ruins of a 13th century Franciscan church. Some wandered about the ruins for a while, others explored the surrounding hills and shoreline while still others attempted to match wits and skill with the local sheep. The sheep won.

By now we were over half way up the coast and the commotion associated with feeding time was building. Anthony of Antrim kept the travelers at bay by promising a meal at our next stop up the coast, the town of Cushendun.

Cushendun was one of my most memorable stops along the coast, it is something out of a postcard - very quaint and tidy. No suprise when Anthony of Antrim explained that this town was a family favorite. Aside from the natural beauty of the place, I was able to stock up on chocolates at the local grocery/hardware/and everything else store. In the meantime, others had found a small restaurant located near the harbor / boat dock and gradually the entire team wandered into the establishment to replenish themselves. After all it was about three in the afternoon and we had a match to play in about four hours. Since I was stuffing my face with creme filled chocolates, I passed on the opportunity to partake in a formal meal and instead went out among the rocks in the harbor area. It was very peaceful. Oh sure, I missed the constant pounding of Hip Hop bass, hairpins turns in my VW Caravelle and the sporadic yells of 'Crehan! Curb!' For now I was eating chocolate and listening to the steady rythym of the sea hitting the rocks.

With our bellies full and content for the moment, we began the last leg of our coastal road journey. Once we left Cushendun, we seemed to enter the highlands where our drive along the coast provided some spectacular views of the coastline below. Of course, you couldn't be in a rush because none of the travel was in a straight line The rolling hills along with the lack of any significant forestry meant that although you might not be able to see the road ahead for very long you could spot it four hills away. There was only one road and we were on it. For every car we might encounter, we saw 500 sheep. It was pastoral. We stopped about 20 minutes outside of Cushendun on a stretch of road that provided a wonderful view of route we had just travelled. You could see Cushendun down below. A few of the girls attempted to make friends with the nearby cattle grazing on the hilltop. They weren't very successful but Kristi managed to return to the van with a pungent momento of her walk in the pasture. For the next five miles I drove close to the large hedge rows that line much of the roadway in this area so that she could hold her sandal out the passenger window and scrape her shoes clean.

Did I mention that Kristi is high maintenance?

So there we are, slaloming down one of the many winding roads that made up our trip when Anthony of Antrim finds a little place to park at the base of a rather large hill and invites the climbers to have at it. It was quite a trek and the footing was always a bit tricky because of the prickly shrubs and grass that covered the hill. Nonetheless, most of us ventured to the top to take in the view and capture a few photos. I made the climb with my video camera en tow.

By now it was getting late so we decided to skip some of the remaining stops along the coast such as Torr Head. Our hope was that we might have some extra time over the next few days to make a return trip to the northern part of the Coastal Causeway. So we got back in the vans, all a bit fatigued from our climb, and headed north toward Portstewart. Of course, we now encounter a traffic backup, due to a herd of sheep being brought back to pasture. Of course, it was nothing like Dublin traffic and we were quickly on our way toward Ballycastle, Portrush and finally Portstewart. It was a beautiful drive along a (barely) two lane road, with the sea to your right and green pastures of grazing sheep to your left. With the exception of the tourist boom town of Portrush, the villages we drove through were small hamlets.

By the time we pulled into the cark park across the street from the Anchor Inn in Porststewart, it was approaching six o'clock. We had time to empty the vans, find our rooms, and quickly get ready for our game in Ballymena against the local womens team. Somehow we managed to get all that done and were on the road within 30 minutes. Of course, the drive to Ballymena took a while and by the time we arrived, Ballymena was well into their warmups on the pitch. Our game was held on one of the fields adjacent to the stadium, which was being readied for the prestigous Milk Cup youth tournament held at various sites in Northern Ireland during July.

So the game got underway. Now maybe it's just my impression of things ... and this is not to take anything away from the caliber of teams we played while in Northern Ireland - because I thought they were formidable opponents. I respect their passion, fitness and the energy they bring to the game. We, on the other hand seemed to look more unplugged the deeper we got on this trip. Maybe it was that last hill we climbed or perhaps it was the sheep herd backup en route to Ballycastle. I dunno. Anyway, we started off flat then seemed to big up the pace a bit and eventually fizzled in a 6-3 loss.

Billy of Belfast with some final words for the team [larger image]

Throughout this trip, as with our play in the Women's Premier League this summer, we continued to practice an aggressive style of offside trap defense. Issy and I noted that although we only had a center referee at this match as well as in the previous match against the Newtonabbey Strikers, the game was called (nearly) flawlessly. Back home, we have a hard time getting a three person officiating squad to call the offside trap consistently. These referees were excellent. If I didn't think customs was so tight, I'd try to sneak one back to the states.

Following the Ballymena game, we were treated to a private tour of the stadium including a look at the executive suites and playing field. Just think, every town of any size that we visited has a stadium of some sort. In Northern Ireland, football is a grassroots sport that is supported everywhere you go. It's part of the culture. Unfortunately in the states, soccer is a popular youth activity that gradually diminishes in visibility with each older age group.

Following our tour, we headed off to the Ballymena Club restaurant where our hosts once again made us feel at home. I continued my record setting pace of eating egg salad sandwich squares while the girls got a chance to mingle with the Ballymena players. They seemed to really get along with this group and several of the Ballymena players indicated that they would be at tomorrow night's Kereoke at the Anchor Inn ... yes... that would be where we are staying. Go Figure.

This point in the trip also marked the last we would see of Billy of Belfast. Billy's niece plays on the Ballymena team so he made the special effort to visit with us one more time. We thanked him for all the time he spent and the effort he had made to make our trip more enjoyable. Earlier, back at the stadium, Issy had presented Billy with a team jersey.

Once again, we piled into the vans and started our long drive back to Portstewart. We arrived in town at about 11:15 pm and for many of us it marked the end to a very long day. Of course, there were several among us who had been sleeping on the entire drive back from Ballymena and felt obligated to continue to support the local economy and make sure that Nigel didn't get lonely. With wireless internet access available, many of us caught up on a few items, check e-mail and used Joe's voice-over-IP phone service to call home. MC managed to curtail her phone call activity to a meager hour. The Anchor Inn has a great policy of locking the main entrance after 1:00 am so the lobby became an area where we could all congregate and talk, eat and otherwise do anything beside what we should be doing .. that is sleeping. After talking a while, the last of us wandered up to our rooms at about 3:00 am. In Norhtern Ireland, the sun would be rising in about two hours.

Tuesday June 26, 2007

A few hours later I was eating breakfast. The Anchor Inn serves a continental style breakfast along with hot meals. After stuffing myself at Dougie and Sylvia's during the first few days of the trip, I opted for some cereal and milk and usually went for the simple breakfast at the Anchor Inn. I figured that if I didn't get my eating under control (excluding chocolates of course) they might charge me extra for the return flight.

The Anchor Inn - Portstewart Northern Ireleand [larger image]

A little bit about the Anchor Inn. It's a city hotel with a lot of personality, located on the main road that runs along the sea coast and then heads south (away from the coast). It's across the street from an old church as well as the parking. Most everything is within walking distance and the main shopping area starts about 2 blocks away. I hate to say that I never ventured on foot more than two blocks from the hotel - we were always getting ready to drive somewhere. The three floors of the Anchor Inn seem to meander - you might have to make six turns and pass through three doorways before getting to some of the rooms. There's a pub/restaurant adjacent to the lobby, a pub downstairs and a disco that was closed for the season. I didn't really ask why the disco was closed ... I just thanked God.

Sharing a room with Anthony of Antrim, I was located immediately above the lobby, facing the street (see picture). I got to experience the street sounds of Portstewart like a local. Hey, my thinking goes, if a bit of lively behaviour at 2am keeps you from sleeping - you must not be that tired. On this trip I never lay in bed wondering when I was to fall asleep. By the time the pillow was in sight, I was ready for sleep. Of course there was that one night in Antrim when Shonert and Lins decided to experiment with the walkie-talkies at 1 am. Ah that's another story for another diary.

While I'm eating breakfast, looking a bit bleary-eyed for sure, Jimmy comes over and strikes up a conversation. Who's Jimmy you might ask? Well, I did too. You see, he never introduced himself but simply started asking about the trip and Anthony of Antrim and all things football. Not wanting to make a fool of myself, I engaged in conversation and eventually figured out that this is the fella that runs the Anchor Inn. Jimmy's an ex-footballer and we had a good talk about the women's football in Northern Ireland. I was assured that tonight's Anchor Inn Kereoke would raise the level play a notch or two. Aye, I'm sure it will.

By now, the entire team had assembled in the lobby and we were headed back east toward some of the more popular tourist attractions along the North Coast. It was going to be a full day.

Our drive east takes us through the neighboring town of Portrush. Whereas most of the towns and villages we encountered during our journeys felt very different than what we see in the states, Portrush is a typical seaside boomtown. Most of the structures are new and it is designed for tourist entertainment. We made a quick stop at the one of the golf courses (Northern Ireland along with the rest of the Isle is rich with beautiful courses - heck, they never have to water them) to visit the pro shop and pick up some souvenirs. At the suggestion of Anthony of Antrim, the girls also visited the shop for some eye candy.

The ruins of Dunluce Castle was our first stop. The 15th century castle, which is built into the craggy seaside of the Atlantic Ocean makes for a great opportunity to do some climbing and enjoying the coastal view. There's a small visitor center with souvenirs and a rather large model of the original castle, which back in the day was rather substantial. After 500+ years it is amazing that anything is left of the place - the combination of the harsh coastal weather and enemy armies would certainly take a toll.

The Ruins of Dunluce Castle - Bushmills Northern Ireleand [larger image]

So anyway, there's this castle standing before us, sitting atop dangerous-looking rock formations, with caves to explore. By now we knew the drill ... we walked and climbed - some went up toward the castle, others went down to the water line. As before, we had no schedule and since we didn't have a match to plan for, we could take our time. Kristi befriended a curious dog, some of us did more climbing than others (Pati was all about the climbing), a few bought souvenirs and we eventually made our way to a cozy little restaurant overlooking the castle ruins. This was my chance to stock up on chocolates and have some coffee. Others had a bite to eat. Anthony of Antrim enjoyed the music and we all chilled. If you were in a hurry, this wasn't the place for you. It was just right for us. Nehm took a nap so she wouldn't be cranky later in the day - she might have napped a bit longer.

Our next stop was right down the road at the Bushmills Distillery, the oldest licensed distillery in the world, dating back to 1608. On our meandering through the town of Bushmills, Anthony of Antrim spotted the local bonfire wood pile and we all took a quick look. Issy and Joe made a close inspection as they were rapidly becoming experts on everything Northern Irish - let's not even talk about the proper way to serve a Guinness - trust me - those two have sacrificed a lot to conduct ongoing testing while on this trip.

Bushmills Distillery - Bushmills Northern Ireleand [larger image]

Back to the Bushmills Distillery. We decided as a group not to go on the tour which cost 5 BP (British Pounds) or roughly $10. Although it sounds boring to some, I'm sure the tour is interesting and educational. You could tell that the facility was well maintained and I would suspect that the tour was well done. Had this been a tour of a WKD facility I'm sure the girls would have taken the tour for the free samples - but whiskey is (thankfully) not to their liking. Of course, none of that stopped me from dropping a few BP at the souvenir shop. Nice stuff.

We packed in the vans again and continued our trip east toward one of the more popular tourist destinations on the North Coast, the Giant's Causeway. This was probably the most crowded destination we visited in Northern Ireland (aside from Kelly's of course) but it never seemed overly crowded because the Causeway Centre is very large and spread out. We were about to do a lot of walking and climbing!

The Giant's Causeway is an area full of layered basaltic lava rocks and caves that formed millions of years ago. The name, Giant's Causeway, comes from the tales of long ago when giant warriors lived in Ireland and Scotland. Finn McCool, a distant relative no doubt, was said to have begun the construction of a bridge across the Sea of Moyle to Scotland. Fearing the much larger Scottish giant Benandonner, Finn and his wife scrapped the plans and broke the existing bridge into little pieces. That, as legend has it, is what we walk on today as we take in the sights and expanse of the Causeway.

The Giant's Causeway - Bushmills Northern Ireleand [larger image]

And this place is expansive. You really don't appreciate how long the walking trail is because it winds along the coast line, up and down the cliffs and around a point that juts out into the sea. I was glad I had my video camera with me because it's very difficult to capture the true scale of the place with still shots. The first part of the walk takes you down toward the water, where Finn must have begun the construction of his bridge. As was the norm during the second half of our stay on the Isle, the weather was foreboding. Luckily, we were just threatened with light sprinkles - no serious storms. Anyway, we know the drill. We walked out toward the waterline and a few of us took to rock hopping - kind of. Issy started climbing out onto the rocks that dot the areas close to shore. For unknown reasons, Kristi and Katie decided to follow him - you would think they know better. Anyway it was all very entertaining from afar and no one got too wet - Schonert was still the reigning wet pants champion based on her exploits at Dunluce Castle.

The Giant's Causeway - Rock Hopping [larger image]

After exploring the shore a bit more we continued our hike east along the pathways that cut into the hills of the Causeway. These trails gradually take you higher along the ridge that overlooks the shoreline, offering a great view of the coastal area. We walked the trail, which is rather narrow in most places (wide enough for perhaps three people) to the point area and then continued onward only to discover that they had closed the remainder of the trail some time ago for safety reasons. It looked as if there had been some rock slides and erosion that had washed out large sections of the path. Generally speaking, they kept most of the walkway as natural looking as possible - without compromising too much safety. Most of the walkway did not have a railing. Which leads me to one of the favorite stories of the trip ... and another one of those episodes where the wee folk intervened. Now mind you, I'm not retelling this second-hand. No. I was there ... at the back of the pack (my usual spot) with a clear view no less.

As we were walking out to the point, I noticed a fidgety sort of fella with a penchant for taking pictures. He'd scurry to one spot and snap a few pictures, then to another ... click click click. And so it went. Unfortunately for him, he was behind us and we were not moving along the path fast enough. At what he evidently thought was an opportune moment, he attempted to squeeze through our group. The pathway was a bit narrow and without guard rails. To make matters worse, most of the path had tall grass growing along side it from the sloping hillside below. This gave the illusion that there was firm ground when in fact it was nothing but air. Now, I don't know if one of our young ladies gave him a hip-check or he simply lost his footing - but one minute he was there and then poof - all you could see was his hand (with camera) sticking up from the tall hillside grass. Luckily something had broken his long descent down the hill and we pulled him back up on the path. He didn't break his stride - it was scurry scurry scurry click click click. I'm thinkin the wee folk had a hand in making sure we averted disaster.

After walking out to where the path has been closed, we backtracked and took the steps up to the plateau overlooking the beach. It was a great climb - better than the steps at Pershing Park. By now, most of us were beat. We had done a lot of walking. We gradually made our way back to the visitor center and purchased some souvenirs and/or grabbed a snack. A few bags of jelly candy somehow found their way into my camera bag. It was 5:30 and time to drive the coast road back west to Portstewart.

The Giant's Causeway - The Long Climb Up [larger image]

On the quiet ride home (my co-pilots and the rest of the crew were napping) I recalled that tonight was Kereoke night at the Anchor Inn and couldn't help but think that surely the fallout from the Moe's-in-Antrim episode had certainly made its way north to Portstewart. By now the locals must be all the wiser. Yes, I expected to be see Jimmy anxiously pacing in the parking lot as we pulled in.

'Brian ... so good to see you and the ladies. Aye there's terrible news, the tonight's Kereoke has been cancelled. It's never happened before ... such a shame'.

I would slowly shake my head, 'Aye that's terrible news Jimmy'.

I made my way down Porstewart's main street, made a left turn up the now-familiar hill and alas ... No Jimmy. As darkness fell on my pipedream the girls awoke, somewhat rested. It was their first full night in Portstewart and Pati was no doubt making arrangements to obtain substantial quantities of the local elixir. Gotta love that Pati. As for the less energetic, The Boys were to have dinner at Shenanigans with Donny of Coleraine in a few hours. In the meantime, I'd catch up on e-mail and chat with Anthony of Antrim.

Shenanigans is a classy looking restaurant all of fifty yards down the street from the Anchor Inn. I wore my best pair of wrinkled jeans coupled with my fashionably wrinkled shirt. How long had I been wearing that shirt? Had I taken if off since landing in Dublin? Not sure, but it's great that the dress is very casual throughout most of Northern Ireland. A place like Shenanigans could justifiably expect better attire. Donny of Coleraine is a very pleasant fellow, whose stories about his recent trip to China with his university mens football team were thoroughly entertaining. We had a pint or two, ate some great food and then bid Donny of Coleraine farewell until tomorrow. He'd be at our final match, which he helped arrange.

The Kereoke crowd started filing into the Anchor's downstairs pub at around 10:30pm. The place was relatively empty and quiet, with the DJ setting up and the girls staking out their strategic posts (between the dj/dancefloor and the bar). Not having a lot of experience in these settings, I'm not sure what I was expecting from a dj, but I'm sure it wasn't this fella. He was an act all his own. Middle aged, tall and thin, given to contortions and a foul mouth - it was all very entertaining. After things got going and everything was pretty much under control, I went upstairs to check for some business related e-mail I was expecting. I was done in about thirty minutes and returned downstairs.

It's amazing what a difference thirty minutes can make. Things were cranking up. The place was packed - and MC and the MC's had just finished their gig. I dunno ... maybe it was the beer, the crowd or even the acoustics ... but they didn't sound half bad.

As for the rest of the night, well ... I'll make a long story short (and put my inevitable insanity on hold) by noting that our girls did their best to take in the local culture. Yes, they can be over-achievers. We're talking about the Dean's List for 'The Study of Northern European Pub-ology and Other Raucous Behaviors'. The music was blaring, the dj was gyrating and those Northern Irish lads can be very friendly. No sense in acting like strangers ... after all ... we've known each other for five minutes.

Oh yeah, and then there was Joey The Enforcer. God... I'm grateful we didn't have an incident ... although I can't personally take credit for avoiding one. Anyway, the pub staff maintained order, ushered us to the Hotel lobby. Meanwhile, the slightly inebriated spilled out onto the street and the girls had been coralled back to their rooms ... under the watchful eye of Pati. The Anchor Hotel was locked and secure. Aye ... it was time to catch some sleep. Sunrise in a few hours.

Wednesday June 27, 2007

I woke up feeling like I'd been serenaded by the slightly inebriated hanging outside my room window.By the time the slightly inebriated had stopped their street side serenade,