giant steps in northern ireland

I am kicking myself for being both surprise and annoyed at the fact it was raining this morning. I’m in Ireland after all. Plus I’m a Tasmanian. I should know better than to expect fine weather anywhere. I was up early because the tour I’d booked to the Giant’s Causeway was leaving not long after 9am. I’d chosen to stay at the hostel because it was a pick up point for the tour and it turned out that if you book two nights, which I did, you get to do the tour for free so bonus! Unfortunately signing up to the free tour doesn’t guarantee a seat if there are too many paying customers, as a lot of hostel guests found out today. We were lining up to get on the bus when we were all told to go back inside as the tour was overbooked and there wasn’t room for any of us. The office girl said there were five spots left with another company at £25, slightly more expensive than the tour with Paddywagons, or we could rebook for tomorrow. As I was leaving tomorrow and only came to Belfast to go out to the Coast, I put my hand up to join the other tour. When the driver, Troy, realised I was on my own he said he could fit me in so I got the last spot. Apparently there were some not-too-happy guests back at the hostel. I can see both sides: they shouldn’t have told them they could go on the tour if there wasn’t room, but also you can’t expect a free spot over paying guests.

Troy was born and bred in Northern Ireland. I could understand everything he said…it just took a bit of concentrating. For example ‘tour’ sounded a lot like ‘turd’. As soon as we got on the bus Troy started talking about lunch. We were going to have lunch at the Causeway. Lunch is very important, he said. So we’re going to have a nice, big lunch, which he will tell us more about later. It was his main topic of conversation actually for the first part of the trip. The menu, the prices, how full we were all going to be. Ahhh, a man after my own heart. Troy was both driver and tour guide, and a good one at that. He was pretty funny in a very Irish way.

Our first stop was the Cerrick rope bridge. We had about an hour, which was just enough time to walk down to the bridge, cross it, walk around the little island, cross back, and get back to the bus. I tried not to think about how high or wobbly the bridge might be. Unfortunately such thoughts came to me when I was half way across. I couldn’t even hurry to get it over with because a lady in front of me was taking her sweet time. But it wasn’t so bad. Luckily the rain had stopped while we were on the bus and had so far held off. As I was walking back to the bus there was even a little sunshine, casting some nice light on the nearby cliffs and hills. The area we were driving through reminded me a lot of New Zealand. It’s very green and there are a lot of sheep. Some sheep are marked with blue or orange paint. Troy said it was to tell the Catholics from the Protestants. I would like to repeat his story about how the Giants Causeway got its name but it was rather longwinded. By ‘his’ story I really mean that. Troy warned it was what he believed and that no one else agreed.

I had no idea what to expect at the Causeway. I hadn’t seen pictures or anything. I put in my lunch order and walked down the hill to find all these little stone columns lining the shore. Turns out that’s the attraction. It was incredibly windy so I found it easier to walk sideways on the columns. Again the rain stayed away long enough for us to have a good walk around, then I walked back up the hill and joined three South American guys for lunch. My Irish Stew went down a treat and just as Troy promised, I didn’t leave hungry. In fact I was ready for a little nap, so I had one on the way to Londonderry/Derry.

I was really intrigued by this city. Not least by its two names. For those who don’t know the history, it was Derry, then the English came there. The Irish weren’t impressed so the English built a big wall around the city keeping Derry inside and the English settled outside. They did this on the condition their name (London) went in front of theirs. So Londonderry was born. Still today the Catholics call it Londonderry and the Protestants call it Derry. The wall still stands but the city has expanded and it’s all one bit place now. The destinations on the bus flash with both names just to keep everyone happy. Seems a little silly really but I’m learning that these people know how to hold a grudge. Some people did a walking tour in the city but I headed off with the three South American guys to walk around the wall. It looked like it might rain and I wanted to be able to head back if it did. We circled the city (the wall isn’t that big) and made it back just before the rain. Then it was 90 minutes back to Belfast.

Most people on the tour had come from Dublin so the bus had a 30 minute stop at my hostel in Belfast to give them a break. The South American guys and I headed to a nearby pub and had a pint before they had to go back to the bus. I stayed a little longer. The pub was pretty packed at the beginning as soccer fans gathered for a pre-game drink. There is a World Cup friendly in the city tonight. Back at the hostel I cooked tea and looked for a laundromat (some of my clothes are a little muddy from the rain in Scotland and here). One nearby was closing soon so I grabbed my washing and raced up. Back at the hostel I caught up with Charlotte, a Canadian girl staying in my room. We headed back to the pub for a couple of drinks. Charlotte’s from Vancouver and will be home by the time I get there so it’s good to know another person there. We made it to bed at the respectable time of 1am.

haste ye back

All the action in London at the moment had taken care of any worries I may have had over the IRA in Northern Ireland. Surely there’s enough havoc for one country right now. Today was a transit day for me: car, ferry and bus. We left Edinburgh about 10.30am. We’ve driven through the city a couple of times now and each time I keep waiting to get to the ‘centre’. Turns out we’re quite often there, it’s just a doesn’t look like it. It was the same today…it wasn’t long at all before we were leaving the city behind and the green hills returned.

We drove across to Glasgow and then headed down the Coast. It was another nice day so it was could to see the country in sunlight rather than through droplets of rain on the car window. It also made hitting the coastline a rather nice sight. No beaches, just rocks, but still pretty. We were on the major road to the ports at Cainryan and Stranraer although you wouldn’t know it based on the roads. They were still quite narrow and windy. We made it to Stranraer, where I boarded the ferry to Belfast. The one from Cainryan goes to Larne and is a quicker trip, but then I would have to get from Larne and I’m a little over commuting. As you leave a lot of the towns in Scotland, there is often a sign saying ‘Haste ye back’. Mum had told me about them and it’s all a bit cute really. She hadn’t managed to get a photo so I did.

The ferry was a rather impressive ship. They took my luggage like they would on a plane so I didn’t have to carry that around. There was free wi-fi, power points and plenty of seats and decent cafes. The Spirit of Tasmania could learn a lot from here. I spent most of the trip catching up on my blog and hunting down accommodation in New York. Again, time has got away from me and it dawned that I would be there next week. Turns out everyone else will be too – most of the hostels are fully booked so I have been searching for Couchsurfing hosts in earnest. I’ve only surfed once so far, that’s partly been by choice and partly because I’d had trouble finding hosts. For London I didn’t really look because I knew I would be busy and wouldn’t have much time to spend with my hosts. I don’t think of CS as free accommodation so if I’m not available to make the most of the experience, I don’t feel comfortable surfing. After making a couple of requests for Belfast I gave up because I plan to be out all day tomorrow on a tour to the Giant’s Causeway and also need an evening or two to catch up on things.

Belfast is one of the few cities that hasn’t really impressed me much. Admittedly the port area probably isn’t its best side, but the city centre just looked like a typical city centre, and the suburbs were not much too look at either. Unfortunately, my hostel wasn’t much better. Actually that’s an understatement. It is the worse hostel I’ve ever stayed in. To be fair, it was only £8 a night so I shouldn’t complain. It was just very run down, very basic and the staff were useless. They were two Australian girls and I hope they don’t get paid much because they sure didn’t do much. The girl who checked me in just gave me a key and sent me on my way. It turned out later she’d put me in the wrong room so after I’d unpacked I had to move all my stuff next door.  I was pretty tired after a few late nights and big days so I trotted up to the supermarket, bought some vegies and cooked a stirfry for tea before calling it a night.