As I had already driven by Carrickfergus, Gleno and Islandmagee, I didn't need to go to the east coast, I decided to skip Carnfunnock Country Park, Glenarm Castle and Cushendall, and go straight to Carrick-A-Rede. This was a small island that Atlantic salmon would swim past, so fishermen would string their nets from it. The only problem was getting to it, as there was a 100-foot crevass between the mainland in the island. So the fishermen built a rope bridge.
Sadly, the Atlantic salmon has all been wiped out, and the fishery closed in the 1920s, but the National Trust still maintain the rope bridge, and charge £5.60 (US $9.60) for the privilege of crossing it. Of course, I'm terrified of heights so I wouldn't dream of doing it, which is what I repeatedly told myself during the drive, during the half-mile hike, and standing in the queue for 10 minutes. In the end, I did it, but only because I'd already paid and I'm a tight bastard.
I'm also glad I got there early--by the time I left, 8 coaches had rolled in and the queue was huge.
Next I drove to the Giant's Causeway, which was even more spectacular than I'd imagined. The hexagonal stones really brought out the kid in me, as I leapt from one to the next. It helped that the sun finally came out, the sky was a breathtaking blue. I hiked around the bays and grabbed lunch at the canteen, before reluctantly moving on.
I skipped Bushmills--the oldest Irish whiskey distillery--and Dunluce Castle--which was just a ruin--and instead went to Cromore Castle. Now, in my defence--no, there's no defence for this. I'm sure I just googled "castles" in google maps and starred it, without doing any additional research. So I was bemused, to say the least, to find it rents...bouncy castles.
Next I drove through Coleraine and up to Downhill Demesne and Hezlett House which, maps would lead you to believe, are right next to each other along the beach. They aren't. You pass Hezlett House and 20 minutes later reach Downhill, which is an interesting shell of an 18th century building. It's most interesting feature is a library/greek temple that was built near the coast, but is now on the coast, and in the near future may be down the coast. When I arrived, there was a sign announcing music in the temple 12-4. It was 3:45. I rushed down and a woman was playing the harp which was quite lovely, even if it was only for ten minutes.
I wandered back through the building and was sorely tempted to drive back to Hezlett House -- just to get my money's worth -- but it was getting late. My plan was to have lunch in Limavady, which was the next town, but it was already 5 o'clock so I gave that a miss (as well as Roe Valley Country Park) and head straight into Derry.
The Irish called it Doire ("Oak wood") which was anglicised to "Derry." The town was destroyed in 1608 and a new walled town was built, renamed "Londonderry." However, the Irish nationalists (i.e. the Catholics) continued to refer to it was Derry, while the Unionists (i.e. the Protestants) called it Londonderry, and the Londoners dropped the last syllable and called it Londond'ry.
However, for all that history, I like the new name they've come up with: "LegenDerry."
I had already selected a restaurant on TripAdvisor, and so parked the car outside and was immediately underwhelmed by the city. It had all the charm of Belfast, but with a much smaller train station. I could see the cathedral spire on the other side of the river so I crossed a very utilitarian bridge and walked past another smouldering bonfire before I came across the town walls. In fact, it's the only city in the UK which still has its town walls intact. Walking along the walls was so peaceful and quiet, with spectacular views of the countryside, that it was a pleasure. (The gates to the cathedral were closed so I had to settle for taking some photos outside.)
Actually, in hindsight it was kind of strange--the whole town felt almost abandoned. I think I only ran into two other people, both walking dogs, plus saw a handful around town. Once I'd walked around three-quarters, I saw the "Peace bridge" which was a lovely pedestrian bridge across the Foyle, which took me back to the restaurant. The food was excellent (even if the veg options were limited) and I left at 10pm feeling very full and tired.
It was an hour's drive back to Antrim where I packed up my stuff, determined not to have a repeat of the fiasco on the way over. Because of my nomadic lifestyle, I had packed a small suitcase and my laptop bag a week ago, and had been staying with a friend. As I wasn't coming back, I needed to take all of my stuff with me, but Easyjet only allows one carry-on, and I refused to pay the £30 checked bag fee. I did succeed in stuffing my laptop bag into my suitcase, but came dangerously close to breaking my laptop or my camera, and of course pulling out my laptop at airport security was a nightmare. Unfortunately I fared no better on the way back.
Liverpool is one of those cities that doesn't believe public transportation should serve the airport. I don't understand that. LA is the same. San Francisco only got BART to the airport by promising it would serve area residents as well. (It goes to Millbrae, a mile past the airport.) London, by contrast, has two trains and the underground direct to the airport. To get to the office, however, I would have to take a shuttle bus to the train station, a train to Runcorn, and a cab to the office, and it was going to take an hour to go 11 miles.
However, while I was waiting for the shuttle to the train station, I punched the destination into google maps and it said it would be faster to take two buses. What it didn't say was that the bus would drop me a mile and a half from my destination, and I'd have to walk. With a suitcase. Wearing a suit.
Of course I called a taxi, and then idly wondered what it would have cost to get a minicab from the airport. Probaly not much more than the £11 I'd paid for the shuttle/bus/taxi, and would have saved me 45 minutes. I'd say "next time" but I don't have any next times.
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