We took our time getting up and ready today, there was no hurry, check out was 12pm and our drive today was only about 4 hours, so we just relaxed, taking our time and getting things in order. Seeing as the van has been home for the past week or so our stuff has gone everywhere, so packing it up today was a wee bit of a chore, a hassle, but one that had to be done.

After our leisurely morning we headed off up towards Belfast, opting to stay the night just out of there (who knows when a coffee jar might go off?) and drove to a little jutty out bit of Irelands north, which was named Muckpoint. Not an enticing name, but it was nice enough. The plan had been to pull over somewhere by ourselves for the night, have a chilled out meal and relax, but sadly there weren’t many appropriate pulling over places that we could see. We drove around and down towards a little (or as the Irish say wee) beach where we saw what we assumed to be a car park for camper vans, so we pulled in. There were several other campers there so we thought “beauty, we’ll just camp here for the night” and got out and began to check out the area, then we slowly became suspicious that this spot looked rather like a caravan park, but the lack of signage or any reception area made us doubt ourselves.

Curiosity got the better of us and I had to ask a man camping near us if this was indeed a free spot or a camping park. He informed me (in between mouthfuls of ice-cream he was licking) that some woman had come and collected money off him, pointed out her caravan and told me she’d be the person to see. So I did, I went on up and made the mistake of looking at this woman and saying “this isn’t a caravan park, is it?” Immediately I saw her shoulders square back, her chest become puffed up, her head held high and she drawled intimidating “YES it is” Right. Okay. Kate, who had a fag hanging out of her mouth, sunburn to her shoulders, her short shorts well too short for her larger legs and a rat dog as I like to call them, sitting on her lap, informed me that this indeed was a caravan park and that we had to pay 8E to stay and deposit 10E for a key to the loo. Chris and I considered this and decided that as it was getting late and we had an early start tomorrow we didn’t really want to waste time driving around aimlessly tonight and agreed to the charge. What a mistake. We were surrounded by large caravans that were powered by generators, screaming children and, above all, horrible horrible little rat dogs, who wore pink jackets and yapped ALL EVENING. We were close to pulling our hair out. The good thing about this setting though was that we had the most amazing, beautiful sunset we’ve seen in a long time. Just gorgeous it was.

We made ourselves a meal from the left over bits and bobs that we had lying about, had a drink and hit the hay for our early start tomorrow.

written by  Chris and Emily on June 4, 2009 from Whitehead, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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We still had 3 hours to kill until Jameson opened for their tours, so we went back to our original parking spot, pulled over, jumped in the back and had a rest. We didn’t think that pulling all our camp stove equipment for brekki would be very appropriate so we settled on opening snack packs of chips for brekki. We’re not proud of this but we were hungry and it was the only food product we had that didn’t require heating.

Jameson’s finally opened and we went our tour, and I have to say, it was great. Much much better than the Guinness one. Chris in particular enjoyed this tour, he’s been drinking Jamesons forever (so he tells me but I can’t envisage Jan feeding him this as a child somehow…) and he has quite a collection happening at home, so he was in 7th heaven. I was just glad that there were free loos at hand, not that I needed them, but just knowing that they were there was nice.

After this tour and taste testing of Chris' favourite beverage we made tracks for Blarney Castle, where we were told we would (or should) kiss the Blarney stone. Doing this will apparently give you 'the gift of the gab' and you'll be able to tell fabulous tales just as the Irish do. Only, to achieve this 'gift' it means you must first climb to the top of the castle, line up and then, with the aid of an elderly gentleman, lie down, lean right back (allowing your head to fall back) and kiss the low part of a jutting out stone. Not such a hard feat one might think, but it is if you're afraid of heights! As we climbed up and up and I could see the view from the top of the castle I was umming and ahhing to Chris about kissing the stone. I also reasoned that with the recent outbreak of Swine Flu would kissing a stone that millions of others had be considered all that hygienic or wise? I then saw that they have spray and wipe on hand, but that apparently is only used when a woman wearing too much lipstick kisses the stone... god knows we don't want it to get dirty...

So, with a few deep breaths and without once looking down, I kissed the stone. It was quick, very quick in fact, but I did it. I can't say I noticed the 'gift' being bestowed upon me all at once, to be honest I was a little speechless for awhile, but I think it was just the shock of it all setting in... I managed to recover quickly enough to take a snap shot of Chris kissing the stone, he had no problems. I'm happy to say that I'm okay now and I think Chris now regrets talking me into kissing the stone. I liked a good chat before, now he can't shut me up. I guess the stone really does work.

It was a shame that we only had a short time at Blarney Castle, there is so much to do there and it really is a lovely spot. We only managed a fleeting visit as we had so far to drive later that afternoon, had we had more time it would have been nice to check out the gardens, the house, the woods surrounding it all... it looked lovely.

After all this we drove and drove and DROVE onto Dublin where we found a rather nice caravan park to pull over for the night and camp. It had everything we needed so we were very pleased to be here the night! There were many clean loos, many clean showers, many nice camping spots and NO mozzies or midgies, so we were quite literally, happy campers!

written by  Chris and Emily on June 3, 2009 from Dublin, Ireland
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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We woke this morning at 7am and thought “must get up soon” only to fall back asleep and reawake at 10am, the sun beating down on us, the heat magnified ten times over thanks to the car windows. I thought we were going to die of heat stroke, it was a bit much. Up, shower and moved on (after also covering myself in Stingoes) to Bantry.

We had always planned to come to Bantry. My great uncle and his wife are buried here and we felt that we should stop and pay our respects while we could. We found Bunny and David’s grave, they were buried with one another, with out effort, somehow we just knew where to go. We lay some flowers, which my hero Chris picked from the side of a busy road, dug out some weeds and had a chat to them about the family back in Australia, before saying goodbye and once more hitting the road to our next destination, Cork.

Cork isn’t such a bad city, its nice enough and all, but good god the parking is hell! We drove around and around and around the bloody city before finally finding a car park, and when we got in it was tighter than a nuns clacker! We parked with the aid of a lovely Irish gentleman who took it upon himself to be our parking attendant, he was a saint, very nice and helpful, and to be honest, we probably couldn’t have done it without him!

We took our time looking about Cork, relaxing and doing some window shopping before deciding that we should probably make a move… only to be caught in the 5pm traffic, oops!

We spotted on the map a little beach where we thought we would pull over for the night, so we made tracks for this place. There was a car RIGHT behind me on these twisty, turvey, narrow roads but I wasn’t going to go any faster, I plodded along at my 50 Kms, thinking he could overtake when he saw fit. We continued to drive along this road which was a main road by all accounts, before passing through an intersection that was completely hidden by the bends in the road and the singage for this was behind trees that over hung and besides which, the sign was bent and rusting. We swore and thought “if someone else had been coming we’d be gone, they should really do something about this!” We drove for a while more, the car following still very much on my tail gate, finally having enough I pulled over to let him pass and so that we could look at the map once more. Of course the car behind me then pulled over too and did a U-y. Typical I thought. Chris and I went on looking at the map until a rap at the window scared the life out of us. It was the man who had been following. I undid my window to be greeted by “did you know you went through an intersection?” I replied that yes I did. He went on to have a go at me stating that 4 people had died there recently, I apologized if we’d caused any concern but you really couldn’t see the signs and that the intersection was very very hidden. He looked at us and said “well, if you weren’t hurtling along you would have seen it” and then said “your not from around here, we have signs here in Ireland too you know” He was so patronizing! He told us that he was part of a community of traffic and road group, that seeing as we weren’t locals there wasn’t much he could do… I apologized again and left. I was so angry! I was NOT “hurtling” like he suggested I was, I was doing 50 in a 60 zone, with him RIGHT ON MY BUTT, what was he doing following me, and how far was he going to follow me before giving up the chase and what was he going to do had I been local? Arrest me?! God, he was so bloody arrogant, the most irritating Irishman yet. Yes, thank you for making me aware, yes, pointing it out was nice to do, but bloody hell, he could be a bit more polite about it all. If 4 people had been killed recently, and other accidents had happened like he suggested, then maybe he and his ‘community traffic group’ should spend more time campaigning for better signage and markings and for the trees to be cut back so people could bloody well SEE the intersection and STOP following strangers to rant and insult them! I’m not the first to make the mistake and I’m sure I won’t be the last. Hmph, that’s my say.

We stopped then at a beach, but it had an eerie, yucky feel to it. To me it felt as if it was a town out of a Steven King novel, I don’t know why, it just did. Chris didn’t like it either, we both got the “vibe” so we made a quick dinner and moved on, not knowing where we were going, but just getting out. The beach was incredibly full, the people all seemed nice and were happy, but there was just something about the place that wasn’t right; it had that ‘feel’

We didn’t know where we were headed but we saw that there was a town called Middleton close by, we decided to give this a shot. Chris was very excited to see that the Jameson Distillery was located here. He had wanted to go here while in Ireland but we didn’t think we’d have time, and we hadn’t been sure where it was, and now we stumbled upon it by pure chance. I was more excited to see that it had free parking outside its gates. It was after 9pm now, so the distillery was well and truly shut, but we decided that with free parking and a public toilet across the road, this was our camping spot for the night.

written by  Chris and Emily on June 2, 2009 from Midleton, Ireland
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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After this we thought that we’d better ask the skinny dipper up for a coffee, after all he had been kind enough to point out Fungi to us. We waited until he had pants on and then offered him a warm beverage which he gratefully accepted. I’m sorry to say I didn’t actually catch his name but I know it stated with an H. He was German and he was touring Europe, Ireland and the UK by bike. He’d chucked his job in earlier in the year (he was a spin cycle instructor, which was handy I guess in preparing for such a challenge…) and just took off. Now, it’s just him, his bike and a sleeping bag. He started in Munich and was on his way around Ireland before heading off again. It came to pass in conversation, when we asked if he’d done this before (the answer was yes) that he’d once ended up in Norway and in need of money had become a husky farmer. I didn’t even know that huskies needed farming! Well, in fairness I don’t really think about huskies that often… I was impressed with his former occupation, not one that you come across very often to say the least! He was a very very nice young man (with kind smiling eyes) we had a lovely chat over coffee and wished each other luck and safe travels before moving on our separate ways. As Chris and I drove off I looked over my shoulder and Fungi was making splashes out in the water as if to say “bye!” A lovely send off to say the least!

Our route today was the ring of Kerry. It’s a scenic route that takes you along the coast, a little inland; back out to the coast once more before you go on your way to your next destination. It was pretty, but I don’t think it was as nice as yesterday’s beauty. Still, the ocean was sparkling blue and as it was 27 degrees today we couldn’t resist stopping off at a lovely long beach for a swim in the Atlantic Ocean. I slapped on about 10 liters worth of sun screen before hopping out of the car and dipping a toe in the water. I’d applied so much that once I was in the water it was washing off me, running down my nose etc, quite amusing really. The water was beautiful and warm; the floor of the ocean clear sand, no sea weed or rocks to have to pick over, and it went on and on forever before it became deep enough to swim properly. We swam, paddled and danced about in the water for ages, laughing, relaxing and cooling down from the day’s heat. It was very refreshing!

We then moved on driving past look outs over the ocean, past mountains with varying deep green coloring and through stone tunnels, which were very cool to look at but a little scary to have to pass through all at the same time.

As tonight was a shower night (bliss bliss bliss!!!!) we found in our ‘camper van booklet’ a site that looked inviting and homey. It also declared to have WIFI which we welcomed as we haven’t had a chance to jump on and contact the world for a little while now. We rang ahead and reserved a spot and trundled on our way. We’d consumed all our water for the day, not a drop remained in the car so before pulling over for the night stopped in the town of Glengarriff to stock up on water and a few other little bits and bobs. As I was so incredibly hot I kindly allowed Chris the honor of having to get out in the heat, walk the streets, battle the shoppers then the check outs and staggering back with bags. I am a kind soul I know. I sat in the car, checking my reflection in the mirrors and was horrified to see just how red I was DESPITE the fact that I used so much darn sun screen. Dang red head, ivory skinned, blue eyed curse!

Chris was a saint picking up our supplies and he didn’t waste time in making new friends in this small town, bringing a stay elder gentlemen back to the car with him. The older Irish man was named John. He was very very nice, despite the fact he only had 3 teeth and kept looking at my boobs. I’m not sure if he was “all there”, lonely or just very friendly but he stayed and chatted for AGES! I had my window open and he stood there (next to Chris who wasn’t able to really excuse himself and escape to his side of the car) He asked question after question after question “how old are you?” “How many people in your family?” “How many children were in your parents’ family?” “How many children do you want?” “What do you do?” He was sweet though, he would repeat every answer you gave him after you which was amusing too. We chatted for ages in the heat, me slowly melting and I’m sure the milk he was holding was going off in the sun that beat down on us. We made at least 4 attempts to say goodbye before we actually got away, he wished us a life time of happiness and good health and that we have our desired number of children. Very kind sweet man. Also, upon hearing that we were only newly weds he shook Chris’ hand enthusiastically and then opened my car door to kiss me on both cheeks. He then bombarded us with “how long your parents been married for?” questions. He asked if Chris was being a good husband, I replied he was fantastic, John nodded and said “I can tell he is, you look happy, you have a bubbly face” I just hope that means friendly and not a truly round face. We bid him farewell and he said he hoped to see us in a few years when we return. I hope to see him too if we do, you could have a few pints with him, he was a harmless, interesting character who was just interested in getting to know you… and your boobs.

The caravan park we’re at tonight is nice, despite the fact they lied about their WIFI connection and ping pong tables. We had a BBQ for dinner and were eaten alive by midgies. My goodness they just devour you. We’ve put so much insect repellent on that we’re basically a walking can of the stuff but still they persist in chomping at us, and they hurt after awhile!! So, we shall sleep with all the windows shut tonight and with the covers pulled tight in hope of a restful nights sleep.

written by  Chris and Emily on June 1, 2009 from Glengarriff, Ireland
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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We discovered a windy little road that wound its way up a mountain, cliff one side and rock wall on the other, it was barely wide enough for one car but was meant to be for two. I don’t know what you were meant to do if you actually had the displeasure of coming across another vehicle but thankfully we didn’t have to find out. We stopped at a look out and took a pic or two from here, but it was here that Chris did some rock scrambling and found that at the top of this small look out a lake spread before him. He was very very pleased with this discovery. I’d have gone up too but I didn’t feel confident rock scrambling in thongs so waited at the bottom.

It was a warm day today, many people showing signs of catching the sun a little more than perhaps they should have, but the warm day meant not only sunburn but that every beach was packed to the brim with swimmers and beach goers. It was hard to find parks so we were happy to keep on driving and just discovering the beauty of this area. Tonight was a sleep by the road side night and we began to keep our eyes peeled for a beach that had fewer inhabitants, and just as the sun began to head to bed for the night we found our spot, and it was a doozie of one! A secluded beach with cliffs surrounding it, green grass, cows and sheep in fields around it, just stunning. We stopped here for a while, relaxing before heading into Dingle once more to go to the pubs that we’d earlier noticed were advertising ‘traditional Irish music, here tonight’

Chris here now, Em has decided that I need to contribute to the blog entry today (as she protest about being tired, heck I drove today, I guess holding on and navigating at the same time must take it out of her)

So we when we got into dingle we parked up happily taking note of the free parking after 6pm, anything free in Ireland is worth celebrating I am often thankful that they haven’t come up with a way to charge for sunlight or air yet!
We walked the main strip of Dingle popping into each pub in turn talking note of it’s pluses and minuses, the first was nice, clean and had a good vibe but it was too hot inside and full of the non-Irish, the second had a few more locals but not a seat free, the third didn’t have music I don’t remember what the score for the forth pub was but you get the picture, there was also a pub on the other side of the street that was clearly the “locals” pub as it was no where near as dolled up and had a bunch of Irish lads hanging around outside. We summed up our options as the street started to empty of establishments and decided that we would avoid the tourists and head to the undolledup locals’ pub. The pub was barely decorated with the usual garb, like sports teams photos and mirrors advertising Jameson’s, Guinness the whole venue consisted of two small rooms one that had the bar in it and hardly any chairs and through a small doorway was the backroom that had a table occupied by 5 older locals drinking a variety of Guinness, lager and cups of tea! There was a couple of plasmas on the wall showing a game of Rugby between the Irish and the yanks (I didn’t even know the yanks knew what rugby was let alone had a team) the bar room was quickly filling up with guys in rugby and polo tops mostly in the colors of what I can only assume is their favorites team who started setting themselves up with the limited seating to get the best view of the game and a whole swag of young girls dressed to impress each one with heels higher than the last getting the ankle injury waiting to happen ridicules. Em and I headed for the small table in the back room and made ourselves comfortable expecting the bar room crowd would soon flow over into the backroom. After about half an hour and one slow pint each we became aware of a unwritten law in this pub, apart from girls and the occasional lost but soon re-directed boy going to the ladies, the door of which happened to be in our smaller back room nobody under the age of 50 crossed the threshold from the bar room. The group of older guys sharing our small room where friendly enough but clearing not interested in striking up a conversation.
We moved on with Ireland leading 8-0 and headed for a pub to hear some music, which consisted of a guitarist, an accordion and some sort of bag pipe/flute thingy that actually made quite a nice sound. It was all quite nice really, but as previously stated, hot, stuffy, crowded and full of tourists so based on all these factors and that that we’re now turning into old fuddy duddies we made our way back to our ‘home’ for the night, settled in, opened the sky roof thingy and watched the stars before falling into a deep sleep.

written by  Chris and Emily on May 31, 2009 from Dingle, Ireland
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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Our plan today was to stop in at Galway; we’d heard good things about this town and thought that by getting up early, skipping brekki (the plan was to get some in the city) we’d have ample time to check this place out before moving on. What a terrible idea that had been! The traffic trying to get into this silly town was banked up further than the eye could see and negotiating round abouts was sheer hell. There was practically no movement on the round abouts and when it did move at snails pace so many people would “beep” you (or do rude signs) that my nerves were shot and we had to pull over for a little break! We gave up on the thought of Galway, and I’m glad we did in the end. As we pulled over for some petrol Chris got chatting to the attendant who said that it had taken his girlfriend over an hour to get to Galway, and they were only a 10 minute drive from there! We later found out that there was a boat festival on for the long weekend, hence so many people. For us to go in would have been hell, really! Finding a park for our van (but first finding a car park!) finding the city centre, negotiating all those people, it would have been too much, we were glad to move on in the end.

We drove for some time, along the back roads once more, missing a few turns here and there, but no matter, it was a lovely day and everyone we met and spoke to seemed to be in high spirits. We looked at the map and realized that there was a ferry that could take us across the river Shannon, which, if we drove around, would take us about 3 hours, we decided to take this cheat and found ourselves relaxing in the sunshine as the ferry chuffed us along the Shannon River, it was bliss!

We’ve decided that while on the road we will camp one night by the road, next night at a camp site so that we can shower/wash clothes etc, and tonight was a campsite night, so, picking a destination on the map that showed the camp signs, we head off with high hopes. We drove and drove and drove… and where there was meant to be a camp site was… nothing. We hadn’t passed the dang site; we doubled back and checked, there was just nothing. By now, after 8 hours of straight driving, was more than a little irritating, so we decided to move on to Tralee, where we were sure we’d find a camp site or two. And we did, though they were all full. Moods were becoming highly irritable. We decided to try one last site and while they were COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY PACKED TO THE TILT they took us in. Ahhhh, a shower was beckoning! For 1.50 Euro you get 6 mins worth of water… I haven’t taken this yet, I’m waiting for the right time, I can’t waste it. I shall do it just before bed, when hopefully all the screaming toddlers, obnoxious children and sullen teenagers are out of my way, when all the parents who are too red from the sun and too loud from the drink they have consumed have retired for the night, when there is peace and quiet, then I will take my 6 min shower and relax!

written by  Chris and Emily on May 30, 2009 from Castlegregory, Ireland
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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We continued to pass amazing hills and scenery, we dodged random sheep that wandered onto the roads due to no fencing (the farmers of Port would have discussed this fact inside their cars for hours I’m sure) We drove and drove until we began to tire and thought that we’d better find a nice spot to call home for the night, and as it happened, we found a secluded little spot by the beach. Lovely! As it was a warm day (to the point where I actually got burnt, boo to the sun!) there were lots of people coming and going from the beach. While there were no signs to indicate “no camping” the looks we got from some people were revolting. We put it down to the fact that they are mistaking us for gypsies, not tourists. Gypsies are real over here and are basically, a community of caravan enthusiasts who drive until they find a spot they like, set up there for weeks, months, years at a time, ruin it completely and then move on, having destroyed the land. For some reason the law is unable to stop these people from doing this, and it’s a real problem. Chris and I have had a little trouble finding spots that will allow you to camp, and even then you have to drive under ‘height restricted’ bars, we just make it really and we’re just in a Normal van. They are pretty determined to keep these sorts out. Anyhow, we assume that they mistake us for gypsies, that or we must smell really really bad; we didn’t get the luxury of a shower this evening!

written by  Chris and Emily on May 29, 2009 from Spiddal, Ireland
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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We didn’t seem to do much today other than drive, and that was nice, though tiring! We passed much greenery, many cliffs, many tractors, many sheep and many pubs. We were exhausted by the time we got to our camp spot of Castlebar. We set up our ‘camp’ and took delight in showering and washing all our clothes. We had hoped to find some internet, but there seems to be a great lack of this in Ireland, no matter, we shall find some soon I’m sure.

written by  Chris and Emily on May 28, 2009 from Castlebar, Ireland
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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We drove a little way before stopping at the Rope Bridge, which is, just as it sounds. Now I (Em’s taken back over writing, it’s a tag team effort today it would seem!) am not so fond of heights really, and I am really really not a fan of open water spots, so the ocean is definantly not my friend. To get to the rope bridge you must first walk a km, up and down slight rolling hills which is nice, and you get amazing views of the cliffs and the waves crashing against them, causing huge sprays. “Ahhh, lovely” you think to yourself as you stroll along. Then you come to a steep downward slant “no matter” you think “it’s not too bad… til we come back up” but then you see it… A little rope bridge that swings out over a large drop to the ocean. It wouldn’t have been so bad I don’t think if the traffic conductor man hadn’t made us stop for so long as to let others on the other side pass first. It gave me far to long a time to stand and observe the very large drop that was to be IF the rope bridge collapsed, and then I heard the traffic conductor man say “ohno, this bridge doesn’t have any nuts or bolts, it just has special knots” my heart began to race. It was now our turn… bugger bugger bugger! I couldn’t back out now a) we’d paid a decent amount of pounds for this ‘experience’ and b) there was a large queue forming behind us pushing us along. My heart began to pound, I heard waves crashing below us, the shrill sound of seagulls that made it seem as if they were laughing at me and I took a step out, and then went “NO NO NO!” and turned back to the safety of land. I was acting like a big girl. Chris who had gone ahead of me hadn’t heard my large protest and pathetic race back to the safe land. He made it across okay and turned around, expecting to see me behind me but was surprised to see me practically hugging the ground. We stood with the bridge between us doing frantic sign language, he beckoning me over, me frantically shaking my head, but eventually I thought to myself “well, this is bloody ridiculous, just do it already!” So, taking large lungfuls of air, stepped out. I was terrified. I got to the middle and it began to sway and rock with the wind and I almost threw myself down on all fours to crawl across, but I didn’t, I swore instead and began a very fast walk across the remainder of the bridge and threw myself at Chris. I was shaking and my legs were weak, I couldn’t talk, but I had done it. I vowed loudly “I’M NOT DOING THAT AGAIN!!!” but then was hit by the realization that bloody hell, I have to get back now! We looked at the view, we looked at the bird life that was in abundance and we sat and rested. I was congratulated by a stranger for my brave effort of crossing the bridge, he admitted that he was just as bad and that if we went halfs we could hire a chopper to get us off. I contemplated it as did he, but it’d be too expensive we decided. On leaving I psyched myself up for the return and this time, I wasn’t sooo bad, I ran across without stopping or pausing, despite Chris yelling at me to stop for a photo (was he mad?!) I got to the otherside where Chris got a shot of me with a big smile on my face, relieved that I lived to tell the tale!

We then realized the time was getting on, but we decided to take a quick stop at the giants causeway, which, if you’ve seen the tesalated pavement in Tassie, would understand. It’s similar to what we have in Tassie, though it’s more like a stair case here. Impressive, particulary seeing as it goes for a while, but we didn’t stay long.

We thought that we would drive until we found a nice park to stop for a night, but just like the saying “a watched pot never boils” we couldn’t find a silly park to save ourselves! Typical. We drove and drove and drove, it was getting darker and darker and wetter and wetter out. Our mood was not that of glee. We went down roads that claimed “beach” but were bitterly disappointed. We thought that if the Irish have to advertise their beaches there must be SOMETHING there, but there wasn’t!!! No little car park, no turning spot, no nothing, just big barricades between you and the ocean. Typical.

We continued on, hungry, cold, tired and gloomy. For a minute there I contemplated the sanity of our camper van hire, but then I saw it, a beat up little sign saying “port” Well, there must be something at a port right? So, with a sudden left hand turn we found ourselves bouncing along to a nice little spot where we could set up our camp! Hoorah for port!

We pulled over, set up our camp stove, turned the van around for a wind break, set up once more and began to cook our dinner. Then it happened. Car after car turned up, 6 of them, all circling and leaving, stopping, sitting in their cars for a while then zooming off, going right down to the jetty and sitting in their cars some more, eventually there was 6 cars just hanging around a couple of people got out and wandered between the cars having a chat. Em and I (tag! It’s chris again) gathered all this info from covertly sneaking glimpses from our van as we had already drawn all the curtains and we didn’t want them to know that we were watching them watch us! A lot of theories were suggested as to the cause of this strange activity down at this “port” including and not limited too: drug dealing, smuggling, IRA meeting, planning meeting on how to remove unwanted visitors from area but we settled on “lack of a decent pub in the area” as a viable reason and with this and that fact that the majority of the guys and their car being pretty senior we decided it was safe enough to let our utter exhaustion win and we both fell asleep.

written by  Chris and Emily on May 27, 2009 from Donegal, Ireland
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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It was an incredibly interesting tour, we learnt so much and it was great to go with a local who could tell you information that you otherwise wouldn’t be able to learn by doing the tour yourself. Our guide Steve was once a soldier here in Belfast so his history and knowledge on the violence and ‘ring leaders’ was quite impressive.

Here in Belfast they seem to idolize the criminals and murderers, leaving plaques and murals in their dedication. Steve was telling us of a criminal called who was a Protestant, and if he heard that one of the Catholics had shot one of his own, he’d not think twice about it, pick up a gun and go shoot an innocent by stander on the catholic side of the street. If someone had their legs broken, he’d go and break an innocent mans, an eye for an eye and all that I guess… The guy eventually got picked up by the police who had some evidence on him but after a high speed chase he ended up in hospital recovering under guard, when the guards changed over he escaped out the window and returned to his beloved loyalist area and knowing that they would just catch him in the end and put him in H block* for life he found some cocaine and on top of the morphine he already had in his system, overdosed. They found him sitting in his lounge room not long after. So, for this the locals on his “side” deemed him worthy of a huge mural and pay tribute to his family every year, taking up offerings and given the proceeds to them. Daft, I know.

There are all sorts of violence that go on here: breaking of arms and legs, shootings and dumping of bodies, ‘jar bombs’ (apparently they make them out of Nescafe jars, are very easy to make and as Steve so calmly pointed out, if were thrown at our cab would blow us all to bits… charming, thanks Steve… I was well on the look out for Nescafe fiends then…) There were hunger strikes for years which saw 10 men die for their cause (that being that the UK government treated them badly…) they stayed in their cell for SIX years, huddled under a blanket and smearing their feces’ all over the walls… Yeah, that was sure showing the government… Not surprisingly they all died in H block. H block for the record is the prison here. It is shaped like a huge letter H, the Catholics are in lock up on one side, the protasents are on the other and the wardens are in the middle to TRY and keep peace. The two rival religious groups once lived across the road from one another, just like you and I, but as the “war” got worse they used to set fire to the houses closest and when they were ruins, scrap it all away, leaving a bigger distance between the two communities, then the other side, not able to let this lie, would do the same, and so on and so on, until now there is more than a km between them. There is a road called “No mans land” which divides the two communities, and NO ONE walks these of a night as you’re picked up, bundled into a car and… well, the rest is left to your imagination. There are actually gates there now that get closed as of 9.30pm, preventing any cars driving down the road. Scary stuff, glad we saw it in day time and with a nice, ex soldier cabbie!
There are murals, there are ‘peace walls’ and there is hope that the world of Belfast will change, and for their sake I hope so too, but I’m not sure when or how this will happen.

Oh, and there was also this really large apartment block, which Steve told us is full of normal every day citizens, it has 20 levels, but the elevator only goes to floor 18 or something (I’d hate to be living on the top floor!) Why only an elevator to the 18th floor I hear you ask, WELL, that’s because on top of this block is an army base, only accessible by helicopter. Soldiers sit up there for 3 weeks or so (if I remember correctly!) and watch the goings on between the two communities; it has a great view for this. When they go off shift, the helicopter comes in once more, picks up, drops off etc. They purposely don’t have any stairs up as if they did so, bombs would be placed up there and set to kill the soldiers, and no one wants to kill a block full of every day citizens apparently and for this reason, haven’t done so yet.

There used to be an Army base

Our tour was very informative and interesting, and for all its violent past, surprisingly fun.

After this bombardment of history we thought we’d best head to the centre of town and do something mindless, like buy a new jumper for Chris who has been foolishly freezing the past few days (he keeps forgetting his jumper or misinterpreting the weather) and after this went to “The crown liquor saloon” which is the oldest pub in Belfast and has survived all the bombings of the past, which is quite amazing as the hotel RIGHT opposite it, is actually in the Guinness book of records as “the most bombed hotel” in the world. There’s a title to be proud of huh?! More surprising then all of that is people actually CONTINUE to stay here, thinking it’s a laugh. Uh uh, not for me! There was an unexploded bomb found in a car here just 6 weeks ago, who knows when the next one will go off, and who knows who or when the hotel might add to its already “impressive” title?! At this bar we met a nice enough local called Sean. He was alright, a proud Belfastian through and through who declared Dublin to be a “shite city” to which, I had to agree to a degree, but then he started to tell us of how he sees the sense in worshiping the sun, and then I tuned out, he lost me there. Still, he was pleasant enough and we had a good long chat to him before parting our ways.

We plan to pick up our hire van tomorrow and head off on our own for a bit and this I’m looking forward too, it’s tiring living with strangers in small rooms. This morning saw an awkward moment between other male room mate (who doesn’t snore) and I. It was early A.M and that sort of dark where you can’t really see that well. I woke up and realized that he and I were facing each other in our beds across the room, my eyes were bleary and I was looking at him thinking “I wonder if non snoring room mate is awake yet?” and then, as if he were a mind reader, he gave me that little “nod” that you give to strangers when you’re saying hello, then I didn’t know if I should give him a nod or say morning, and then I didn’t want him to think I was a giant perv, so I fanged sleep and closed my eyes once more, hoping he believed I was truly asleep. But then I thought “well, what was he doing looking at me?” and then I thought that HE in fact was a big perv, and now tonight I vow to face the wall all night.

Anyhow, washing should almost be done now so best go collect it before someone claims our once dirty now clean clothing as their own. More later!

written by  Chris and Emily on May 26, 2009 from Belfast, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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