Belfast, Here We Come!

This weekend was our great Belfast adventure. The six of us Berry kids rented a room in a hostel and the next day took a tour bus (the "Paddywagon,"driven by our wee and musical Irish tour guide Joo-ey). We went to the Carrick-a-rede rope bridge, the Giant's Causeway, and the town of Derry.

So, first thing's first: we hated Belfast. We got off our train at about 9:30 pm, and despite the fact it was still early, and still daylight, we immediately felt uncomfortable. Belfast is in that sort of transitional phase that Dublin just left, the purgatory between ruin and booming. The buildings in the city are clean and modern, there are plenty of clubs and posh restaurants, but there is also a layer of filth littering the ground. The people, too, are in transition- they haven't yet moved from one identity to the other, so it seems to be a city without a soul. Also, heading out to find food at about 10:30, the streets were already packed with stumbling drunk people, despite the relatively early time of the night. We collectively noted that the Belfast locals share the American style of drinking, as opposed to the Irish style; excess and the goal of inebriation, not community and tradition.

We went to bed at our hostel feeling a little bit disappointed by the city.

In the morning, though, our tour began. We piled onto the Mercedes bus, painted green and decorated by a jovial, albeit cheesy, leprechaun, and made our way out to the coast. Our guide regaled us with many an Irish ditty as we rode, which made us pretty happy.

The first stop was the rope bridge. It was not the terror I imagined, as it was technically more of a wooden plank bridge, and not nearly death-defying. I mean, old ladies and little kids crossed this with ease- so the look of uneasy fear on Whitney's face was a tad amusing. However, once we got to the other side and saw the view from the island, we were immediately calmed and soothed by the cool breeze, the majestic cliff sides, and the sound of the water-- cliche visuals, yes, but nevertheless accurate. We would have loved to stay, well... all day, but we had to truck it back to the bus to get to our next stop.

Giant's Causeway was our next landmark. This was very cool as well, as we had to pretty much walk down a mountain to get to the rock formations. It was sort of strange, that you could stand right at the edge of a sheer cliff and look down, with nary a safety fence or anything. That means, if you take the upper path down to the Causeway, keep your kids and Isabelles on a short leash. The Causeway itself was neat and mysterious, but not awe-inspiring like the previous stop was. We took a shuttle bus back up to the visitor's center, which was well worth the pound fare to save us a 20-minute uphill walk and give us time for ice cream cones!

The next big stop was Derry, after making a brief photo break at an old castle. In Derry we paid an extra 4 pounds to take a historical tour of the city, which was a center point of the Troubles in Northern Ireland. It was here that Bloody Sunday occured, and was the home to the hunger strikers that became martyrs for their cause. Needless to say, the city is rife with Nationalist pride, with murals and monuments celebrating the heroes of the city. Our tour guide, interestingly, grew up during the height of the city's struggles, and gave us a very personal account of the city that he called home, and whose peace he took great pride in-- for most of his life, he lived in turmoil, and having a peace he earned, for the first time in his life, made it something that he felt on a greater level than we could. As he pointed out, we grew up in peace, and have only ever known it, so it is hard for us to quite relate. What I got from it was that his peace was ultimately powerful, and I feel that he was a man who would die a dozen times over to preserve what so many generations suffered to bring about.

One great, and very Irish, quote from our Derry tour guide:"Our native sport, hurling, beats the SHIT out of golf."

Ahh... the Irish...

Then, unfortunately, we had to return to Crapfast, to catch our train back home. Thankfully, the journey back was devoid of a certain unruly and horrifically misbehaved little terror of a boy, who graced us with his presence on the journey up. We have never wanted to kill anyone, or anything, so desperately in our lives. We survived, though... barely.

So, that was the way back. Our train journey passed rather quickly, with a long debate ensuing between all of us Berry kids. A government major, a liberal girl, a religion major, an unwell English major, and two Communications girls make for a very lively and healthy debate. And that was the end of the journey.

By the way, we were TIRED. And the dry and musty air in the hostel has reduced my voice to a whisper, though Whitney escaped the conditions relatively unscathed.

Also, Prince Duncan and his honeywheat war-stallion Samson again came to the rescue of the fair maiden Whitney. She had lost her enchanted sandal at the train station, as she was being pursued by a wicked time-serpent and had to dash madly to the safety of her carriage-train, with her backpack bursting from a swipe from the demon's claws and her belongings spilling out all over the platform. She collected her bottle of Princess Water, but her sandal fell out of reach, and she only notices as her transport was pulling away.

She cried out in desperation to her shining knight, who was an hour's journey behind her. Duncan had little time to act-- distracted by the troubles of his kingdom, her bequest escaped his mind until his own chariot pulled up, and he had to spring into heroic action. He whistled for Samson, who immediately burst through the crowd to his side. Duncan mounted his charger with a fierce yell and a kick, and Samson flew into motion, scattering the awed and terrified crowd with his fearsome speed. Duncan spied the enchanted sandal outside of the time-serpent's lair (a trashcan by the escalator, really, though everything else DID happen as stated), grabbed it with his mighty hand, and raced back to his chariot, leaping off the platform just in time to barely make it.

He returned the trophy to his awaiting princess, who rewarded him with a thankful kiss and the promise of her hand in marriage.

(Being a hero rocks.)

Cheers,
Duncan


I have a few things to add:
Firstly, the shoe escapade occurred Friday morning on my way to work... I really did lose one of my most beloved flip-flops (Mom, you know which ones). I was rather heartbroken, and considering sending its counterpart out to sea as a sort of memoriam to the lost. Duncan did find my most beloved and return it to me when we met again to make the trip to Belfast. (I thought I would clarify a few things on that part of the only slightly embellished portion of his entry.:))

Also, just a nearly unbelievable thing: We saw Dr. Carroll (one of mine and Kelly's professors) in Derry. I am not kidding. He is taking a group of Berry kids around England and Ireland (including one of Duncan's housemates, who we swear we saw from a distance as well). So, the thought that you really do run into to Berry people EVERYWHERE, despite the relatively small population at Berry, I believe has been officially proven true. I mean, we're in another country, and of all days for us to take a trip to Derry... wow.

That's all for my addendum :)

<3
Whitney

The musty hostel




The one pretty thing we saw in Belfast.




The famous rope bridge (and the most beautiful place on earth)



(a view of the bridge from above)














Our Stylish Wheels for the Tour




From Giant's Causeway and the walk above on the cliffs (in other words, a few great views)












The ruins of a castle we were able to stop and take a few pictures of-- I believe the name was Dunlace Castle.

Myself chilling on the bus-ride to Derry.



In the city of Derry
Duncan atop one of the cannons perched on the walls of the city. Derry is one of two cities in the UK with its original walls still in tact.

A church on the grounds of a monastery that began the city of Derry.



Murals in Derry depicting scenes from the times of the IRA, Bloody Sunday and the peace that now exists there.