The occupation of Northern Ireland by British armed forces turned out to be the longest in British military history, and stretched over an unimagined period of thirty five years. What started as a limited intervention to quell unrest in Derry turned into an ongoing nightmare for all involved, whether your sympathies lie with the republican or the unionist cause. Sectarian violence exploded in Belfast during 1969, and made this city world famous for all the wrong reasons. The British completed a withdrawal of their forces in May 2007, and finally locals and travellers alike can pass unimpeded between the Republic in the south and Northern Ireland. Massive amounts of investment money have poured in from the EU, Britain and the United States to aid the task of rebuilding, and it appears Northern Ireland is heading for a positive future. We live in hope that the Troubles have finally been laid to rest.
But what’s the craic, dear reader, how about I stop being daft for a minute and bring you up to speed. The previous journal left off in Galway, and I met up with my mate from Dublin as planned for a pint to celebrate the Galway races. The city centre was absolutely heaving with revellers, and we joined in the craic with some degree of abandon. Next morning I was on an early bus from Galway, all the way up to the coastal route of Antrim county in Northern Ireland. The region is famed for the beauty of the coast line, and is also home to the most popular tourist attraction in Ireland the Giant’s Causeway. I had to change buses five times to get here, but it’s certainly worth the effort. During the last leg of the journey I met a French couple, and we were booked into the same hostel in Balintoy.
Your man from the Sheep Island View hostel drove into Ballycastle to pick us up, and after settling in we went to the local pub for a memorable night out. We met a local character who was up for the craic, he used to play rugby for Ireland, and is a relative of the McGuiggan who came to Australia after meeting an Aussie at the Battle of the Somme in 1916. I was amazed, as McGuiggan’s is quite a famous vineyard in the Hunter Valley as I recall. We had a spectacular fish meal, and then your man asked if we would like a hot bush? Er,… I beg your pardon, but he explained the legendary Bushmills distillery nearby has a tradition of serving up hot whiskey in one glass on top of the other, and topped up with a dash of sugar. The hot bush went down a treat, and was a surprisingly smooth way of enjoying a whiskey from this 500 year old distillery. Then we adjourned to the room next door for some foot stomping traditional Irish music. I got talking with a super friendly Irish couple over a pint of guinness, and the night out proved to be memorable and brilliant craic.
The next morning I set off to explore the sights, and the first stop was Carrick-a-Rede and the famous rope bridge. The weather in Ireland is very changeable, and heavy showers can form in minutes seemingly out of nowhere. But the locals always know what’s coming, and keep a keen eye out for ominous looking cloud formations. However, when I visited the weather was as superb as the scenery. The rope bridge is pretty hairy to cross and very popular so we had to queue, but it’s a great experience as the island it leads to is absolutely stunning. Several hundred years ago local fishermen built the bridge connecting the islands to catch salmon, and now it’s a massive tourist attraction particularly in the height of the summer tourist season.
Then I caught the shuttle bus to the Giant’s Causeway, and walked down the hill from the information centre to check out the extraordinary rock formations. Once again it was jam packed with tourists, and it’s great fun scrambling along the rocks searching for the most interesting photo opportunity. They don’t wonder if it will rain in Ireland, but when it will rain. As such my Irish luck ran out at the Causeway, after I copped a comprehensive drenching on the walk back up the hill to the information centre. Never mind, I’m still hopeful my photos scrub up OK in spite of the rain. The car park was absolute chaos with a single council worker accepting parking fees, while cars were banked up the road for over a kilometre. This meant I waited two hours for the bus and nearly missed my coach to Belfast.
I saw the French couple again on the bus, and it was good for all of us to be out of the rain in spite of our wet socks! We pulled into Belfast around 8:00pm, and were again booked into the same hostel so strolled down together. For some reason there was a problem with their booking at the Linen house hostel and not mine, so it was au revoir again as they were shuttled off to a sister hostel. I don’t normally do this but the next day I decided to pay £12 for the sightseeing bus around Belfast, and it turned out to be an excellent decision. A lively Irish lass provided the commentary for a great travel experience. The bus trip took in all the famous sights in Belfast, starting with the Titanic quarter which houses the biggest cranes in the world. Picture if you will the last century when 35,000 workers poured through the gates every day to work on the mega liners; it was an incredible achievement for Northern Ireland. And further, picture the Titanic rising up from the ground day by day in your hometown, at the time she would have absolutely dominated the Belfast skyline. Coincidentally, Belfast was also at the forefront of the Industrial revolution with the linen industry, and the population nearly equalled the size of Dublin by World War 1.
Then we visited the Stormont, the Northern Ireland parliament at the centre of the historic power sharing government in 2007 between the loyalists and the republicans. The bus then cruised down to West Belfast, which was on the nightly news for all those years due to a seemingly endless stream of sectarian conflict. Shankill road is the loyalist main street, and full of murals promoting their cause. Then the bus took a right turn through a gate in the towering peace wall (which is still closed at 5:00pm) into the parallel Falls road on the catholic side, which is full of republican murals. It’s scarcely believable how the inhabitants of West Belfast live their lives, but reality can’t be argued with and it’s pointless to comment further. We finished our tour by visiting historic buildings and pubs that complete the fascinating story that is Belfast.
I spent a final night on the craic in Belfast to celebrate a memorable visit to Ireland. I’ve been fortunate to visit the country of my heritage and experience the craic where, basically all of you should be here now!
“I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train.” Oscar Wilde
As I continue my travels, until next time it’s signing off for now
Tom
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Tom's music blog can be found here:
http://www.tomrooneymusic.com
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