Ireland Day Two -- Antrim

It was a rough night in Belfast last night. The room, though nice, was quite stuffy, and as is typical over here, there was no air conditioning. So we opened up the window a crack to get some air before going to bed. Even with this, I was sleeping on top of the comforter. Not a good start.

Around midnight, somebody started emptying the recycling bins below our window. Who empties recycling bins at midnight? Can't it wait until a respectable five AM? So, I got up and shut the window. Becky and the boys slept through it.

Then, around three AM, the bachelorette party returned to the room adjoining ours. It was giggles and vodka shots and "Whoohoo!" for the next hour. For all of the noise, I should have invited myself to the party, but I'm way too old for that. I thought about calling down to the front desk to complain, but I'm just not the type of person to make that call. Instead, I lay in bed fuming, and getting further and further from sleep. Becky and the boys slept through it.

Around three thirty, I noticed the heavy odor of cigarette smoke seeping into our room from the still-raging party next door. Great. Stuffy, smoky, and I'm still not sleeping. So, I got up and re-opened the window, which helped a lot to clear out the smoke. The same couldn't be said for the ladies next door. Becky and the boys still slept through it.

Finally, at four AM, I was still not asleep, so I got up and showered, checked email, and went down to the lobby at five AM so as not to wake the family. Becky and the boys... well, you get the idea.

Arriving in the lobby, I asked the hotel desk clerk if there was a place that I could get a coffee this early, and he said, "Yeah, wait a minute."

He stepped over the cordon into the darkened hotel restaurant, and came back shortly with a beautiful steaming latte. No charge--very nice. Noticing the Belfast Telegraph on the counter, I asked if I could borrow it.

"It's yesterday's paper," he informed me.

"That's alright."

I took it and enjoyed an hour of peace, quiet and caffeine. I read about the latest Top Gear on BBC 2. I attempted the miserably difficult British crossword. I noted that the houses in the Northern Ireland area went for between £149,000 and £300,000. Actually, about the same as Virginia.

Finishing my cup of coffee, I walked back up to the room, and still the family was asleep. Finally, at eight o'clock, I'd had enough, and tried to rouse Becky. She pushed me off, and it wasn't until quarter of nine that I finally got her out of bed. I was hungry, and wanted breakfast!

Leaving Belfast, we took Oliver (yes, the boys have named our Opel) on the A-2 Causeway Coastal Road around the northeast corner of Northern Ireland, meandering our way up to the Giant's Causeway.

This incredible site of basalt hexagonal columns sits right against the Irish Sea facing Scotland. Legend tells that the giant, Finn McCool, built the causeway to harass his Scottish neighbor, Benandoner, until the angry Benandoner destroyed his causeway forever, leaving only the rocks at the coasts of both Antrim and Staffa in Scotland.

Just after the Giant's Causeway is the lovely Ulster town of Bushmills, home to the most famous, and arguably best Irish Whiskey produced.

There are three differences between Irish Whiskey and Scotch Whisky:

First, Irish whiskey is spelled with an "e", whereas the Scottish spell theirs without. I've no idea why, but there it is.

Second, the barley for Irish whiskey is kiln dried in hot air, not over smokey peat fires, so the Irish whiskey has none of the smokiness of its Scottish brethren.

Finally, Irish whiskey is distilled three times over the Scottish two, yielding a smoother whiskey, although Becky and I would argue that it also loses some of the complexity of the Scottish drink with the third distillation.

The Bushmills tour was definitely worth the time and money. Our guide, Emma, was immediately charmed by the boys (yes, children are welcome!) as she told us the usual stuff about the mash tuns, spirit safes, condensing towers, etc. etc. etc. It really was a very good tour, and I was very glad not to endure hearing about the angel's share for the fortieth time (though it did get mention in the video before the tour). But the key part for me was the tasting at the end. I tried the 12 year single malt, and Becky sampled the 10 year. Both were excellent.

I was very surprised to learn on the tour that the regular Bushmill's "Original" is a blended whiskey made of up only 40% malt, with the other 60% being corn grain spirit from Midleton near Cork. I think I'll pass on the "Original" from now on.

After our excellent tour, we stopped at Dunluce Castle, the one-time home to the MacDonnell Clan, distantly related to the Scottish MacDonalds. Dunluce now sits in ruins, and was abandoned by Flora MacDonnell when the entire kitchen--cooks, supper and all--fell off the cliff and into the sea. Everybody perished, dinner was ruined, and Flora would not live in the house again.

The castle holds some great surprises, the most striking of which is the sea cave that sits directly below the castle itself. As you wander down the path around the castle, you come upon a great yawning dark cave, and it is only upon entering the mouth that you see a complete tunnel to the sea. The cave is large enough for a small boat to navigate, though with the crashing waves, it is probably ill-advised.

After Dunluce, we arrived in our seaside holiday town of Portrush. Our hotel, the Portrush Ramada is a very nice hotel indeed, situated on the point overlooking the sea, right in town centre. The rooms were immaculate, and the dinner at the restaurant was first rate. This hotel represents the best that European hotels have to offer--crisp, clean, tasteful, and totally unique.




Tomorrow, we'll set off early to return to the Republic, exploring Donegal and Inishowen. And now, to bed, and dreams of whiskey!

Ireland Day One -- Newgrange and Belfast

After a long, long flight, and with very little sleep, we arrived in Dublin tired, but excited to be starting our vacation.

It took us a couple of hours to clear customs and get the rental car, but we were thankful at least that all our bags arrived with us. Unlike previous trips, if our bags didn't show this time, Aer Lingus would have to chase us around the island trying to deliver them to us.

From the airport, we proceeded directly north, towards Newgrange. But it was breakfast time, so we stopped in Swords to see if we could find something to eat. As the Irish are not noted for being early risers, the only place we could find open was McDonalds. (It was nine o'clock.)

After a hearty breakfast, and some much needed coffee, we arrived at Brú na Bóinne, which includes both the Knowth and Newgrange megalithic sites (along with Dowth, which we didn't tour).

As you can tell from the photos, the weather was cool, rainy, and windy--just what you'd expect from an Irish summer. We were exhausted, but determined to push through on our first day in GMT.

Getting out of the car and walking the sites at Brú na Bóinne helped us to adjust to the time zone. While on the tours, we learned some amazing facts about Newgrange and Knowth, sites that are over 5,000 years old.

Newgrange, of course, is aligned with the winter solstice, and the inner chamber glows with deep honey and amber hues at the rising of the sun on the year's shortest day. The tour guides have many interpretations for why this is significant, but they remind us that this is just speculation, and the true reasons will never be known. Aliens? Sun worshipers? Two things are known: One, the site took approximately fifty years to build, which means that it probably spanned at least two generations of builders. Two, the area must have enjoyed relatively peace and harmony for the builders to focus their attention on the site so completely. Many of the stones had to be transported from mountains over 70 km away, using only crude rafts and log rollers. So, what is the reason for all of this determination and engineering? Who knows. Perhaps they did it just because they could.

During our first day, we began to get accustomed to the Irish dialect. The most noticeable difference is the way they say the "th" sound. In most cases, they simply pronounce it as a "t". So, we heard, "Tanks a million" and "Tick as tieves". But one of our first encounters with the dialect came early in our Knowth tour. Our guide, a young man named Brian Whelan who looked like a cousin of Desi (and probably was), informed us that the Knowth site was still under work.

"They have just excavated a turd."

The boys and I could not help our sophomoric snickers.

We whispered, "A turd! A turd! They've excavated a turd! Must be human settlements! There's a turd!" (Yes, we're so mature!) This little gem provided us amusement for the remainder of the trip, much to Becky's chagrin.

Every year, the Parks Office holds a lottery for people to be present at Newgrange during the solstice. They allow 100 people every year to see the sun as it breaks through the darkened chamber inside the mound. Last year, 28,000 people applied. We put Kathleen's name in for the lottery, because, as Becky put it, "She'd love it, and she'd come over to see it! She'd definitely come over if she won!" So, it's pretty long odds (1:280), but much better than playing the Lotto back home.

The most amazing fact (to me) about Newgrange was that the stone roof of the interior burial chamber--the chamber which lights up on the winter solstice--is so perfectly built that has been absolutely waterproof for 5,000 years. That may not be saying much in arid climates, but in Ireland, where it rained eight times on our first day--that is amazing!

The surrounding Boyne River valley is gorgeous: verdant hills of checkered farmland, grazing sheep, cows and horses. The landscape has remained virtually unchanged for hundreds of years. You could just imagine yourself taken back in time...

After a few hours at the Brú na Bóinne sites, we headed due north for Belfast. It took a couple hours of driving before I started to become comfortable driving on the left-side of the road. However, the intersections, and especially right turns, are really dangerous. Becky and I had to chant, "Stay left! Stay left!" as reminders not to die. Strangely though, the round-a-bouts (which are ubiquitous here) are much easier to navigate.

After a while, the steady vibration of the car put the two rear passengers (Eddie and Luke) into deep trances. Becky and I were also fighting hard against the 30+ hours of being awake, but we had to press on for Belfast.

As we drove, I was surprised that we never saw any indication of passing from Ireland into Northern Ireland apart from a discrete change in road names from M-1 to A-1. I had expected to see a border crossing and passport checkpoint, but we didn't even see a "Welcome to Northern Ireland" sign. This island has come pretty far in the past decade or so.

Despite my lethargy, we arrived safely at Belfast. Our hotel for the evening was the Jurys Inn, a centrally located downtown hotel on Grosvenor Street.

The large Presbyterian church across the street reminded me that it was here, in Belfast, in the year 1848, that John Harris married Margaret Monroe. For reasons lost to time, John and Margaret would soon leave Belfast, move to America, and establish themselves as the very great grandparents of our Harris clan.

Once we settled into our room at the Jurys Inn, we set out on foot for dinner. Belfast was alive with activity, and Saturday evening must be "Ladies Night" in Belfast. Cab after cab unloaded young twenty-something women, dressed audaciously as 1920's flappers and cowgirls, giggling and bouncing their way down the street. Hulloooo, Belfast! I could get used to living here! The city obviously played host to countless bachelorette parties, and even our own hotel rocked with female revelry until the wee hours.

After passing five blocks, and our fourth carload of featherboa-clad hussies, we arrived at an elegant but family-friendly restaurant recommended by the hotel, Sperranza. Dinner was delicious. Eddie had an enormous 15" pizza with pepperoni and olives--which he ate completely! Luke and Becky could only finish half their pizzas, with Luke having the pepperoni and buffalo mozzarella, and Becky having a roasted Italian veggie pizza. For myself, I had the seafood linguine in marinara sauce, and it was excellent!

After our delicious dinner, we threw the boys in the tub, scrubbed them from head to foot, and everybody went to bed.

It was exhausting, but it was also a great first day!

...And We're Off... to Éire!

Next stop, Ireland!

Stay tuned for more adventures from our enormous road trip. Our first stop tomorrow night will be in Belfast. Once rife with sectarian violence, it is now relatively peaceful and home to Irish Catholics, Ulster Scots, other Britons. Belfast also has the shipyard birthplace of the Titanic.

But before we get to Belfast, we shall see the megalithic stones at Newgrange.

More tomorrow.

Plastics!

Everything you ever wanted to know about unlimited polymer solutions. Where can I get some of that??

Farmers' Market Thursdays

Nothing beats a trip to the farmers' market on Thursdays. Local beef, lamb, pork, fresh berries, honey, herbs, pastries, breads and cheeses... and supporting the local guy!

I love the farmers' market!

Quote for the Day

"I refuse to be lectured on national security by people who are responsible for the most disastrous set of foreign policy decisions in the recent history of the United States. The other side likes to use 9/11 as a political bludgeon. Well, let’s talk about 9/11.

The people who were responsible for murdering 3,000 Americans on 9/11 have not been brought to justice.

They are Osama bin Laden, al Qaeda and their sponsors – the Taliban. They were in Afghanistan. And yet George Bush and John McCain decided in 2002 that we should take our eye off of Afghanistan so that we could invade and occupy a country that had absolutely nothing to do with 9/11. The case for war in Iraq was so thin that George Bush and John McCain had to hype the threat of Saddam Hussein, and make false promises that we’d be greeted as liberators. They misled the American people, and took us into a misguided war.

Here are the results of their policy. Osama bin Laden and his top leadership – the people who murdered 3000 Americans – have a safe-haven in northwest Pakistan, where they operate with such freedom of action that they can still put out hate-filled audiotapes to the outside world. That’s the result of the Bush-McCain approach to the war on terrorism," - Barack Obama, yesterday.

Add to that the largest national debt in history, the erosion of the constitution, warrantless wiretaps on American citizens, the worst economy in my lifetime, the erosion of the American moral high-ground to torture and war crimes. Most stunningly, all of these happened under a single person's term: G.W. Bush! Is it any wonder I am an Obama supporter??

IS IT???

I ask you this: Should I be scared of Obama just because some rednecks believe he's a Muslim? (or believe he'll be Jimmy Carter?) (or because he's black?) Seriously, folks, let's be grown-ups here!

Donate today, and make a difference.

Luke's School Journal

Whereas I've said numerous times that Eddie's gift is music, I'm beginning to think that Luke's gift may be writing. He's only eight, but he writes well--just like he speaks--and his writing is so interesting!

During the school year, he kept a journal. All of his entries show such great imagination. You can see a progression from the beginning of the school year, where he's writing very short simple sentences, to more elaborate and complex writing at the end of the year. My favorite is "On my winter break..." where he describes his near slavery at the hands of his cruel parents. Poor kid, indeed!



Luke seems to enjoy writing, so let's hope he keeps at it!

June Advancement Picnic

During our very busy Father's Day weekend, we had our Cub Scout advancement picnic at Great Country Farms. Clarence took some great, outstanding, and amazing photos with his Canon. Here are some of my favorites.