We see the Irish Sea

Last week we headed back to Northern Ireland at the invitation of our September hosts, Marian and Derick Woods. We enjoyed their hospitality so much two months ago and as always is the case, three days just wasn't enough time to see all that beautiful Belfast has to offer. Marian insisted that we hadn't "done" Northern Ireland until we saw the coast, so it was our mission on this visit to see plenty of water.

We flew to Belfast Thursday morning. The weather was beautiful - cool and clear. On Thursday, Marian cooked one of her fabulous dinners for us, an incredible stuffed pork loin. We had a delicious apple tart for dessert, made from the bounty of apples found on her backyard trees. It was so good, especially washed down with a cup of tea.

Friday morning, we headed for the northern coast. From Belfast, we took the road that hugs the Antrim coast. Such a beautiful drive - water to the right, rolling green hills to the right. And sheep. Lots and lots of sheep grazing on that green grass.

Our destination was Giants Causeway, but we made a stop along the way at Carrickfergus on Belfast Lough. Unlike our experience in Edinburgh, when we walked up a steep hill to reach the castle, Carrickfergus just sits at the side of the road, with a parking lot beside it. We got out and approached the castle, Perhaps because it was on a flat patch of land, it didn't seem as imposing as Edinburgh Castle, but trust me, it's plenty big. And when you get inside the tall walls of the castle, you are greeted by some cutting winds.

Carrickfergus was built during the Norman Period, in 1177, and it was used for various military purposes until 1928, when it was turned over to the government for restoration purposes. We didn't spend a lot of time there but I did get some good photos and had a chance to climb up to the ramparts for a better view.

I'm amazed by the castles I've seen. They certainly were built to last. There's something really overwhelming about standing in a building that was constructed 900 years ago and imagining the history that it's seen.

On to Giants Causeway, again along the Antrim Coast. I'm not sure anything can prepare you for the sight of the rocks there when you see them, and I love the wonderful giants' legend.

More about that later. For now, a little background. About 25 million years ago, there was a huge volcanic eruption in the area that is now County Antrim. As the lava rapidly cooled, thousands of rocks were formed, many in a hexagonal shape. There are many different heights, and as they form amazing stepping stones on the coast. Waves pound the rocks and all that pounding has resulted in a natural phenomenon that is hard to describe. You could spend hours there and see something different in every direction. Some rocks are jet black, others are white. Some are staggered in heights, others look like vertical stacks of logs.

Now, the fun part of Giants Causeway is the wonderful Irish legend that surrounds it. It seems that back in the day, there was a giant named Finn McCool. His Scottish counterpart, Benandonner, lived across the sea. (On a clear day, you can see Scotland from the causeway.) So the story goes, Finn built the rock causeway so he could head over to Scotland to fight his rival. When he didn't show up, Benandonner came looking for him. Finn's wife hid him by pretending he was a baby. When Benandonner got a look at the McCool's baby, he was seized with fear: if the baby was that large, how large would Father Finn be? Benandonner didn't want to stay and find out. He ran back to Scotland, tearing up the rock path in case Finn decided to follow him.

The next morning, we went south to County Down, heading to Newcastle on the Irish Sea. What an adorable little resort town! There's a wide promenade built beside the ocean and we walked for a good ways and just sniffed the sea air. The Mountains of Mourne are there, including the 2,786-foot peak Slieve Donard.

There's an old Irish tune by Percy French that mentions these mountains that come to the edge of the sea at the end of every verse. Here's one verse:

I've seen England's king from the top of a bus
And I've never known him, but he means to know us.
And tho' by the Saxon we once were oppressed,

Still I cheered, God forgive me, I cheered with the rest.
And now that he's visited Erin's green shore
We'll be much better friends than we've been heretofore
When we've got all we want, we're as quiet as can be
Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.


While at the shore, I picked up a few shells, got my foot wet in the Irish Sea and found a funky grey striped rock. Souvenirs!

Since we were in County Down, we drove through Downpatrick, a town that dates back to at least AD 130. There's a lovely cathedral there, Down Cathedral, and in its graveyard is the grave of St. Patrick. At least they say his body is there - but several other areas claim to be his final resting place. You might say Patrick was spread a bit thin, but he's supposedly been there since 461. That's the story and they're sticking to it.

We departed - sadly, because the Woods home is one of the most warm and charming places we've ever been - for London Saturday night.

As we got off the plane at Heathrow, I spotted a Christmas tree in the gate area. First one I've seen this year. No holiday music yet, but we've got the iPod full of Christmas songs. We're getting ready.