Belfast to the Far North
In the lead up and preparation for our French Road Trip, our very good friends Finn & Wendy from Canada contacted us to say they’d be in Ireland on a golfing holiday around the same time to celebrate a Milestone Birthday event for Finn…
Would we like to catch up? Well, why not? Finn is our daughter Erin’s God Father and one of my oldest and dearest friends, so it would have been rude not to join him to celebrate over a few cold beers Irish style right?
So the plans were put into place to meet them in Belfast – an area of Ireland we’d not previously visited. So, a minor reshuffle of our itinerary and plans, a quick flight from Paris to Belfast and away we went.
As soon as we landed in Belfast we grabbed a cab and the cabbie looked straight at the THREE of us and said, “Just the FOUR of you then?”. I looked to see who else was tagging along….nope it was definitely just three of us. Welcome to Ireland!
We arrived later than expected due to a drunken idiot on the flight from Paris returning from Europe 2016 being denied boarding. Wasn’t me. Anyway….we hadn’t seen Wendy for about 6 years, but had seen Finn a few times in between. Nothing changes with these guys. Straight out to a few pubs. Standard.
Guinness. Sorry; God how I’ve tried to like you…..we are just not compatible. I respect you and your history, love your outward appearance but deep down you’re just plain horrible.
We visited a few amazing pubs and sampled their wares. This was our aim. Missed dinner time altogether thanks to Finn and I trying to out bullshit each other. Dunno who won….close contest.
Good first night.
Then it was time for us all to play tourist and it was a blast. Wandered through the very historical streets and waterfront of Belfast, down along the river to the Titanic Quarter, where there are still working dockyards and the rejuvenation of old warehouses into funky buildings was an eye opener.
It was brisk. Dark, gloomy, grey, mizzly, windy as all get out and for a first visit to “The North” you wouldn’t want it any other way.
We found the Titanic Museum and Exhibition and spent a good few hours in there. Some of these museums are just horrid, but like the Guinness tour in Dublin, this was outstanding. Informative, interactive, no glitz or glamour just facts with a nice bit of entertainment thrown in to keep you constantly interested.
Some of the facts are just mind blowing and without boring you with some of them, just consider this; there were three classes of passenger on board, with third class making up the largest number – over 700 passengers out of a total of about 1200. Now, for those 700 passengers there were only TWO bathrooms to share! How did that work?
I also didn’t realise that after leaving Southampton, they went to Cherbourg in France then Cork in Southern Ireland before heading out into the wild Atlantic where they met their destiny. Amazing history and an absolute tragedy is a massive understatement.
We then just wandered about the city exploring and called into the oldest standing building in Belfast which is now a pub. Just for a snack….and maybe a pint…then a wander through the Cathedral Quarter that has been rejuvenated with a bunch of old warehouses now turned into restaurants and bars in little back lanes, murals decorating walls and rooftop gardens.
Awesome.
We missed dinner. Are you seeing a trend here? Keep in mind it’s still light until 10.30pm even in the gloom, so before you think of having a feed its too late. Quite different to Europe where most people are only thinking of having dinner at that time.
So we spotted and got a couple of pizzas and headed back to Finn And Wendy’s room to eat pizza and drink a couple of bottles of champagne we’d brought in Epernay. Heathens? Certainly. Awesome.
We continued the tourist model and next day set out in their hire car to the northernmost point of Northern Ireland. We drove through a thousand “Bally-somethings” heading toward the Giants Causeway which sits ruggedly on the shores of the North Sea.
But first! We’d read about a little detour to a place not far from the Causeway called Carrick-a-Rede which had been a fishing village for hundreds of years, specifically salmon. The fishermen had a unique way of netting their catch. There is a small island just off the coast, where water rushes through quite aggressively. They came up with the idea of herding the salmon toward one side of the island and forcing them through the waterway between land and the island, and their mates were on the other side with huge nets catching up to 300 salmon at a time. Ingenious.
But they couldn’t get from the island onto the mainland, so they built a rope bridge across the void. Not very far, maybe thirty of forty metres long but about forty metres above the craggy rocks and heaving seas below.
The rope bridge has been remade a few times and is now a tourist attraction with money going to their version of the National Parks. It is breathtaking in its scenic beauty. It’s also a bit breathtaking if you have a thing for heights and unstable structures. Sensational.
We were on a “tourist” roll by now, and headed about 10miles down the coast to the Giants Causeway. Another National Parks site, now listed as a UNESCO treasure. It’s basically the site where over millions of years of geological and volcanic activity the coastline has been thrown a curve ball and is just an insane stretch of cliffs and rock formations like you’ve never seen before.
It appears that the rocks have been strategically and intentionally stacked neatly upon each other. It’s amazing.
Now the myth………A bunch of millions of years ago, there was a Giant who lived in the area named Finn McCool. Appropriate? He stood over 60m tall. And he arranged all of these rocks himself, and controlled the whole area, creating a huge cathedral like organ house in the cliff side.
I like that version better.
A great adventure in pretty miserable conditions but fantastic nevertheless.
Just down the road we happened upon a tiny village called Portrush, which is to be the location of the 2019 British Open Golf Championship. Of course Finn and Wendy lost their shit and we pulled into the carpark and hit the gift shop.
Then……Finn and I looked at each other, said nothing and off he went into the clubhouse searching for a refreshment. No problem – Finn found the club bar upstairs with commanding views over the first Tee and practice area. Despite getting some awkward glances due to Finn and I wearing shorts and Erin having a denim jacket on we took it all in like locals drinking their finest draft beers. We did have to hide Karen and her Pimms in the corner as she had snuck in with jeans on and that’s a no no for goodness sake! Success.
Anyway, after enjoying the ambiance we headed out to continue our road tripping but first we saw the Members Guest Book for everyone to sign. Glancing at the previous page or two, there had been some special guests from some quality golf courses signing in from all around the world. So, of course our entry was right up with the best of them……it read -“Finn and Ralphy” and our golf course was listed as “The Royal and Ancient, Marrickville- Australia”.
I reckon that could be a first.
Finn had been reading up quite a bit on the tragic history of the 1970s Northern Ireland wars so we headed into Londonderry (Derry) which was a hot bed of political and religious upheaval and scene of some of the most violent incidents of the “war”.
The main area of unrest was in a place called Bogside on Rossville Road. Appropriately named. One can see how it was possible for this area to descend into such horrible violence. The housing is high density semi detached properties, with small laneways like a rabbit warren. It would have been very easy for either party – the Catholics or the Protestants, the Orange and the Green, the Loyalists and the Republicans – call them what you will, to surround the other and trap them in. It is a low socio economic area and it must have been just hell to have lived there through those years.
The area has been gentrified to an extent, and in this Bogside area, huge murals adorn many buildings with reminders of the “bad years”. There are a couple of quite moving murals, one depicting a child cowering from a tank and guns, and the other a message advising you’re now entering “free Londonderry”. Apart from the fact that it was hosing down with rain at this stage, we didn’t bother getting out of the car. It felt…….sad, therefore no photos and while that’s a shame, it’s not the worst result.
Back to Belfast, and Karen had been reading about a similar location on Shankill Road on the outskirts of town. Sounds awesome doesn’t it? So we did. And it was. Similar vibe and feeling of desolation. So Finn challenges us to get out of our comfort zone….car parked, locked and into a freaking pub on Shankill road. Called the “Northern Ireland Social Club”. Seriously? What was he thinking. The place was interesting to say the least. On the wall outside there is a memorial in the shape of a cross covered with poppies. The memorial is a reminder that in October 1971 the pub was attacked by IRA bombing and two drinkers were killed.
What were we in for here! Anyway in we go to a few strange looks, but he and I walked confidently up to the bar and ordered a round of beers. A table was quickly cleared for us and we were welcome.
I should mention that Northern Ireland had just been bested in the soccer, so most in the bar were blind drunk. Wendy made friends with this lady dressed in soccer kit – about our age I guess – and she had had her fill. She screamed across the bar “Are yous guys foreigners?” At least that’s what it sounded like. Then she invited us to party or, “pooooorrrdeeee” with her. Hmmmm. THEN she gets a bottle of red coloured schnapps or some other god forsaken drink and comes up and does shots with us! It was getting weirder. We tried to bid a hasty retreat to no avail……eventually we got out unscathed. “Out of our comfort zone”. Lunatic.
We missed dinner time. Trend continues. Shock me. So what options for a late night feed? Chinese of course and it was brilliant.
So after another awesome breakfast, Finn and Wendy drove us to the airport for our flight back to London. Without any incidents of note. Three days in “The North” was awesome, tiring, full on and fun. Everything we expected and wanted out of this quick visit.
We don’t see these guys nearly often enough, probably because we live on opposite sides of the world but it’s never any different with them. Great company, lots of laughs, too many beers. We will find somewhere else in the world to catch up again soon……
London Town – We’re Back !
So, London here we come for a few days of madness. Erin went home to her place in Tooting Broadway or whatever it’s called, while Karen and I stayed in an old hotel in an awesome location five minutes from Paddington Station. Typical tiny room but clean and tidy. Perfect.
Erin had bought us all tickets to “The Book of Mormon” which is playing to sellout audiences at the beautiful old Prince of Wales Theatre in the West End. I had a vague idea of what it was about but NOTHING could have prepared me for this show. If you all thought I was racist, inappropriate, politically incorrect, foul mouthed and just wrong… Then you should see this show. It makes me look like Mother Theresa. They take the piss quite openly and effectively at every minority group in the world. They miss no one.
It’s brilliant. If you ever get a chance to see it, don’t miss it but leave your straight laced self at the door.
I can never get my head around the sheer number of people on the streets in central London all day and all night. It dead set makes New York look like a ghost town. I don’t know how they do it – push, shove, wrestle, grunt, groan. Seriously you can have that. Then the same happens on the Tube. When the Tube is working it’s awesome. When it’s not it’s Rubbish. We had some rain overnight and woke to absolute chaos on the rail due to flooding and signal failures, closing the main Circle and District lines altogether. Ten minute trips turn into an hour and the say it happens all the time.
We headed up to Camden Lock to the Markets and it was a great day. You can buy whatever you want at this place. Set in an old stable area, there is new, old, cheap, expensive – everything. And the best international food market ever. Lunch, yes. I had Peruvian, Karen had American Mac and Cheese with pesto (really?) and Erin had some Arab dish. Fantastic. Then we found “Little Venice” that I knew very little about which is up behind Paddington. A series of canals and waterways in the heart of London with long boats that people live on! Apparently you can rent them out but are in high demand. Beautiful spot.
It was raining on and off all day and we had planned to meet some people from my CNSW days who now work for the ECB (English cricket Board) who had arranged some tickets for us to attend their local T20 competition match between Middlesex and Somerset played at Lords under lights. Despite the inclement weather – ie it was pissing down – we met Towners at the Lords Tavern (of course) right at the WG Grace Gates for some pre Match refreshments. He is the Player Welfare Manager for Middlesex, Sussex and Essex so he was “working”.
Unfortunately the game kept getting delayed. Unfortunately we had an opportunity to tell old war stories and have a few more beers. Unfortunately Eventually we got the call that there would be a 9 over per side game so we went into the lovely old ground and watched a great short match under lights. Fantastic. No dinner, lots of beers.
This was the day of the Brexit referendum so it’s all anyone could talk about. And you know what? Not one person – not one – voted to “leave”. Astonishing. So the 16million who did vote to leave must be fairy dust. There were a few protests around the place, and the media was in a frenzy. Whatever. Play on.
We had a choice of a few things to do for my last day before leaving Karen to play with Erin for a week or so, so we decided on a nice cruise up the Thames from Westminster to Tower Bridge and we had a wander about there after checking out the Bridge and the London Tower and all its history. Fascinating. There is just so much to see in London, you seriously need months I reckon. Erin has been here a year now and is still visiting new places all the time.
Pubs are great, but it’s just so busy. And expensive. I mentioned France was expensive, well London is France on steroids. You just have to forget about the exchange rate otherwise you will lose your mind thinking that you just paid AUD$79 for two train tickets from Gatwick to the City – 25 minutes! Ouch.
But as said before we knew that and it is what it is.
I wanted to catch up with another old mate from CNSW as he couldn’t get to the game the night before, so we met Nick at the Mad Bishop and Bear Pub. Cool name eh? He’s just been here a month taking a job with the ECB also. Maybe that’s what they need to do – steal all our staff. Not a bad option……great to catch up with him.
So this morning we headed into Kings Cross and dumped my bag at St Pancras in preparation for my Eurostar back to Paris via Lille this arvo.
We had a few hours to kill so headed to the British Library in Kings Cross and had a great morning. They had an exhibition of the history of Punk rock in the ’70s and an area with historical documents from the ages, dating back to the Magna Carta. Incredible history.
The highlight though, no doubt were handwritten lyrics to a bunch of Beatles songs…..
So, time came for me to say a very quick goodbye to Erin and Karen. A long drawn out goodbye to Erin would have been too tough. It’s been a crazy, busy, eventful enjoyable few weeks and having Erin with us was fabulous.
While her plans are still up in the air, she has some unfinished travel business to resolve before returning home. We might have to come back and see her again soon.
Karen has anther week over here with her, so they’ll have a ball. I’m just filthy I miss out on High Tea at Kensington Palace tomorrow !
I’m currently finishing this off on the Eurostar racing across the French countryside toward Lille at 300+ kph. What an amazing service. 90 minutes from London and I arrive in Lille. Then connect to a TGV service for 40mins direct to the airport in Paris. Brilliant
So that’s it from me. Just another 30 odd hours of travel to go…..easy.
Plenty of time to plan our next adventure
Thanks for coming along for the ride……
Ralph and Karen's Tours 