Anyhow, after four days of jetlagged existence post-America, we were off to Belfast, somewhat reluctantly to be honest. Not because we didn’t want to go to Northern Ireland, but because we would rather have gone there later. Like in a few months. But the conference wouldn’t wait, so off we went.
We stayed in a cheap but... well… cheap hostel between the university and the centre of Belfast, which didn’t really improve the situation. We didn’t really do much in Belfast as such, apart from visiting a few pubs and walking around, but we did take a bus tour to Giant’s Causeway up the eastern coast, which was absolutely breathtaking.
I don’t know if this is something I should be concerned about, but I’ve always found rugged, raped-by-winds-and-rain type of scenery the most beautiful, magnificent even; razor-sharp cliffs plunging into the waves, dark mountains reaching for the ominous clouds and trees fighting a losing battle for their mere existence against the wind, all exuding somberness. Not to mention the restless sea, washing onto menacing rocks and deserted beaches. In a word: lovely.In addition to the Giant’s Causeway, another breathtakingly impressive place, our tour took us past castle ruins, a rope bridge (which I wouldn’t have gone on had somebody paid me a million pounds) and to the Bushmill’s distillery in Bushmill. Although I am not much of a whiskey connoisseur, it was definitely fascinating (not to mention fun for MrPicky, who at that point was suffering from a very nasty cold. Call it self-medication.).
After four days of Northern Ireland, we were ready to head down to Ireland and on to Cork, our second and last leg of the trip. We collected our rental car and headed south.
Now, here’s the thing: I’d been told the road infrastructure in Ireland was not quite at par with the roads in England, even, but nothing truly prepared me for the major arteries which would suddenly bring you to the high street of a sleepy village, the narrow almost paths, winding their way through the Irish countryside. Again, beautiful, but you will want to reserve quite a bit of time.
On the way to Cork we decided to do a bit of a detour, and instead of driving straight to Cork we stopped in Kilkenny. It turned out to be quite the fluke, considering neither one of us had really done much research on things to see on this trip (call it jetlag induced denial), but we stumbled onto what I daresay must be one of the quaintest places in the world. Well, in our humble opinion anyway. Not to mention the fact that MrPicky could finally get himself a pint of Kilkenny IN Kilkenny.
We drove past Waterford and other assorted places, and eventually ended up in Cork. Again, another beautiful town. Nothing had prepared us for the steep roads in the centre, though, and in many ways Cork reminded me of San Francisco. Well, if you replace the quirky people with… um… Irish people, I suppose.
We did try to take a trip to Killarney (70 km from Cork), but when we had been on the road for two and a half hours (I kid you not) and were approximately 25 kilometres from Cork, we decided to admit defeat and turned back.
On our final day, we had to start heading back to Belfast at 5 am, to catch a flight back home at 1pm. Needless to say we were somewhat eager to get back, and therefore didn’t want to take any chances with potential delays on the roads.
We made it to the airport nicely on time, and after an announcement of having our flight delayed by two hours, they decided to board on a moment’s notice and off we were, heading home.
I do have to say that although I was not in the most optimal state for traveling, and despite the fact we would rather have been at home, it turned out to be a very good trip. The Emerald Isle definitely left a lasting impression on me, and I’m sure we didn’t see the half of it.
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