Our ferry crossing from Cairn Ryan to Larne was surprisingly good as the weather was a little more agreeable and the sea calmish. It was a 2 hour crossing where we managed to get a free coffee each, which was lovely coffee incidentally, as their eft pos machine would not work.
Arriving in Larne early morning we headed for a campsite that Gary had chosen only to find it full. This seemed to be the norm in this neck of the woods at a weekend so we headed away from the coast to the interior of Northern Ireland where we hoped it would be quieter in the countryside. This entailed travelling round, or in our case through, Belfast as we did get a little lost. Slightly stressful but we finally found a campsite with a free space for us but, sorry to say, once again it was raining!!!!!! Making the most of a bad situation we donned our coats, hats, gloves, boots and walked into the local village of Killyleagh and fell into the local Irish tavern for a welcome pint and a wine. This was where we were lucky enough to see the Women's Wimbledon final accompanied by people chatting away to us in a language that was impossible to understand. At one stage I had to ask if they were speaking English and they assured me they were. The accent is so strong and the speech so rapid fire by the time you have understood the first word the sentence is finished!!!! We met an amazing guy here who made his living selling tips on bets for anything and everything. He makes loads of money as he has hundreds of people who pay him to tell them how to bet. How bizarre is that?
So we had a few drinks, a chat and a plate of chips and braved the wet walk home making a decision to head towards the Giants Causeway the following day. We were a little down with the way things were going with this trip and definitely needed some cheering up. This was not to be as the weather was just getting worse and worse and now very cold too. We holed up in a cheerless, yappy-dog infested, Portrush campsite for 2 days, never leaving the campervan and feeling very sorry for ourselves. The only light relief was Gary trying to open the barrier arm by holding the plastic disc to the windscreen whilst trying to go "in" the "out" gate. I have to admit that this hilarious scene could probably have been partially my fault as a few instructions seemed to be lost in translation. A very charming man finally saw through our embarrassment and kindly opened the gate to allow us into the campsite. The plastic disc was a scanner and was for the other "proper "in" gate".
Determined to improve the situation the following day we headed for Ballycastle to a small private campsite Gary had found perched right on the edge of the ocean. This drive was to take us along the northern coastline, where we finally saw Portrush Harbour and town, through Bushmills -where Bushmills famous whisky is distilled and where we narrowly missed a traditional Orange Parade - and on to the Giants Causeway. This area of coastline, called the Causeway Coast, is absolutely stunning and especially as we were seeing it through smidgens of sun and the Giants Causeway was all we expected and more. The more was Keith, the guide on our tour, who was hilarious with his simple Irish humour. We can understand how and why Mrs Brown is so popular and successful having spent an hour with Keith. Anyway, the Giants Causeway leaves you bewildered and stunned. Nature - how has she managed to form perfect hexagonal interlocking columns of stone of different heights so perfectly? Irish folklore has us believe that the Giant Finn McCool made his home here and created the Causeway but what a wonderful legacy millions of years of intense volcanic and geological activity has left behind for us to admire. This was a thoroughly enjoyable experience and the rain only started again as we got back to our camper. Grateful.
Having passed the ruins of Bunsevbrick Castle our next stop was the Rope Bridge at Carrick-A-Rede. This rope bridge was used by the Salmon Farmers who crossed the open, latticed bridge in order to get to Carrick Island to fish. It is high and spans a 20metre wide chasm and is awesome. Parking our camper in a quarry, which in itself was quite lovely, we took photos of the bridge but decided we could cross many a rope bridge in New Zealand for free. The rope bridge has also been updated and is no longer open and as exhilarating to cross. It is also expensive.
So on we went to Ballycastle where we were held up for maybe an hour outside of the town for their Orange Parade. This is July 12th and is a public holiday in Northern Ireland where Orange Parades are the order of the day throughout the Country. The streets in Ballycastle are narrow and the whole town was totally congested even more so when the parade had finished. We had a few hairy moments getting through and travelled along many a footpath on two wheels but a thumbs up from the local Guarda meant Gary was doing an OK job. It is one thing being big - it makes you feel safer - but there is definitely more to hit and damage. Took us a long while to get through but we were very happy with this small campsite of Micky and Marie's. They had recently travelled to NZ so they had a lot to talk about. We stayed there 4 nights in the end looking over the ocean and Rathlin Island - walking along the beach and into Ballycastle. Strolling over the Golf Course and into the hills to find Marconi's cottage where he was based whilst trialing his new method of communication.
Enjoying our stay here very much and the weather seemingly about to improve Gary sussed out the next perfect spot - Crolly or Croithli. We were so excited about what we expected to find here and were very worried it might not meet expectations. Remember we were feeling very negative just a few days ago but Ballycastle managed to turn us around. No way did we wish to return to the dark days.
Firstly we went to see the Dark Hedges near Ballymoney where we managed to capture some amazing photos. In reality it is awesome to look down the road but I am pleased with the illusion the photos give. Almost exactly as on the Game of Thrones which of course made this particular stretch of road world famous.
Driving through Coleraine, BallyKelly and Londonderry, a sprawling, walled city that we took a glimpse at but decided not to stop at, we instead crossed into Donegal County, Southern Ireland losing all our cellphone coverage and data!!!!!!. We are now working in Euros as well rather than GBP.
The difference is immediate both in landscape, and weather. Stopping at Letterkenny to pick up some Euros we head into Glenveagh National Park, over the moors - so much like the Highlands of Scotland - past Gartan Mountain and pick up the Wild Atlantic Way. Peat cutting and stacking is more prevalent here than on the Scottish moors and great swarths of peat bog have been cut into turfs and lie ready for collection when dry. The peat bog rises again every 7 years and can be cut again after 12 years and each family has its own "peat bog patch". Fascinating!
WE HAVE SUNSHINE as we roll into Crolly where our road to the campsite is blocked because the local people are having a fair day of some sorts. Music is playing, children are dancing, there is a talent competition, stalls, food, small animals, horse and cart rides and there is Leo's tavern - home to Enya and Clannard. Leo, their father, died 3 weeks ago aged 93years but this is the place we have come to see. Eventually we get through the throng, register at Sleepy Hollow - our bijou, fabulous campsite of only 6 sites - and hastily walk the 3minute walk back to the festivities.
12 hours later, at 2am, we leave Leo's Tavern.
But more about that later - enjoy.
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