Everywhere we look there are red heads. Not that there is anything wrong with that, it’s just not so common at home. Belfast continued to underwhelm us and despite a good weather forecast, we woke to grey skies and drizzle. After breakfast and a short drive of maybe 10 km the drizzle turned into snow. Unreal. Well, it was the aftermath of the snow, I took the pictures sitting at a set of traffic lights.
The Giant’s Causeway
We headed straight for the coast after leaving Belfast and picked up the scenic coastal route on the way to the Giant’s Causeway. The further away from Belfast we drove, the more the weather improved and by the time we made our first out-of-the-car stop the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day. The coastline is quite spectacular with sheer chalky cliffs that, at times, glowed white in the sun.
Before getting to the causeway, we diverted to Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge that connects the mainland with an island just off shore. The rope bridge was put in place to allow salmon fisherman easier access to the island. Despite my love of heights I decided to walk across. No problems. Well, OK my knees were a little weak when I made the other side, but that could be because I was standing close to Jayne.
After conquering the vast expanse of the bridge, OK it was about 20 metres, we walked the km back to the car and drove to the Giant’s Causeway. This was another underwhelming experience. I’m not sure if the crowds contributed to this – it’s still Easter holidays here, just like home – or whether it was just one of those experiences. Apparently, the causeway is a listed World Heritage Site, just like the Barrier Reef or the Grand Canyon or Mount Everest. So, comparatively, I reckon the UK needed something, and had nothing, and this was the best they could do. Sad, it didn’t rate.
The most amusing bit was watching two morbidly obese Americans have an ‘f’ you fight. They were red-checked, sweating and struggling for breath, but still managed to put on a show. All class.
It was a challenge to get photos of the causeway without people, but I managed. The mythical giant story that goes with it is cute, but that’s about as far as it goes.
Bushmills Distillery
It was then off to Bushmills Distillery. Nothing especially new here, we had toured the distillery at Blair Athol in Scotland a few years back. It was interesting to learn the difference between Irish whiskey and scotch. If you are bored one day, ask and I’ll give the story. Otherwise, whiskey/scotch all tastes disgusting. That said, Jayne liked it and at the end she got to taste a 16 year old and 12 year old whiskey. The 16 year old retailed for 125 British pounds. The bottom line … she prefers scotch.
Stroke City
Cool name eh? Makes you think of … some American TV sitcom? No? Then keep it to yourself. It comes from Derry/Londonderry, get it? There’s a stroke between the … nevermind.
Derry or Londonderry if you support the British is the place where all the troubles began – according to a local we spoke to today. No more politics. Lets talk dinner.
So we walked in to the place with the highest recommendation. It was down by the river and carried a name that suggested seafood. Anyway, let’s not dwell on the menu, the less said the better. We were seated, but couldn’t make an immediate drinks order because we wanted to vaguely match the wine with dinner. 20 minutes later we walked out due to lack of interest – from the staff.
The next stop was the Chinese Restaurant and Tapas Bar. No, seriously. Curiously, they share the same entrance and staff, but have separate rooms. At least they were interested in serving us. It was warm. They had wine to drink. And then …
No and then! Eating Chinese in England and Ireland is not the same as at home. For starters, you don’t share meals. Each meal comes with, and I quote from the menu, “All main dishes, unless stated, are inclusive of boiled rice or chips.” Chips! No way.
So, we asked to share a main course. Without chips. Then we looked around. OMG. Chinese food with chips and rice on the one plate. We were the strange ones. The waitresses were giggling at us.
And so, we enjoyed our meal, sort off. I’ve had worse. I just don’t get Chinese and chips. I know each ethnic group assimilates themselves into the culture, and Chinese food in England and Ireland is sweeter than what would be expected in Australia, or in Asia. But, chips?
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