Today was our last day in North Ireland, and almost our last day on the island at all - we fly home tomorrow morning. But we still had things to do! So we got up early and set about doing them! First stop was Bushmills Distillery. The oldest distillery on the island, individuals in the Bushmills region have been distilling since the 1400's, and the Distillery itself was licensed by king James the First in 1608 and has produced whiskey more-or-less continuously since then. While I've toured distilleries before, the Bushmills tour is interesting because Bushmills is as much a factory as it is a distillery. Although the futuristic control room - directing and and monitoring eight enormous stills - came close, the coolest part was the bottling plant. It was remarkably similar to the assembly lines I've worked on DEWALT plants. At the end of the tour they let us sample various whiskeys and gave us drink vouchers... and despite all we had learned, I still spent my drink voucher on a Coke. Despite all I learned I still can't enjoy whiskey. The science and art of it is fascinating... but the taste remains that of rubbing alcohol and dirt.
(Totally forget) who took this one, but thanks random tourist!
After a surprisingly cheap and enjoyable lunch at the distillery, we went over to Giant's Causeway - the original reason we came to Northern Ireland - and possibly all of Ireland - now the last stop on our week-long tour. But before that, allow me a side rant:
(Ethan's) shot showing almost the entire Causeway
The National Trust (for Places of Historic Interest or Natural Beauty) is a load of wankers. Remember when the U.S. government "shut down" and then the National Park Service used extra manpower to close parks and prevent people from doing things that shouldn't have needed any government involvement in the first place? That's the NT. They took over management of the causeway and built a very nice visitors center. Then they blocked all the free or cheap parking nearby... going so far as to place "helpers" in the lots of nearby businesses dressed like officers to "helpfully" remind you you weren't allowed to park there. This is so you will pay $10 PER PERSON to park. Furthermore, they obfuscated all the paths to the cliffs so it looks like you have to go through the vi$itors center in order to get to the causeway. And what do they spend their ill-gotten gains on? Some of it must go to the preservation of the cliffs and trails - a noble goal that I'd gladly contribute a few quid towards. But the lion's share goes to providing "safety officers" to blow whistles whenever anyone gets too close to the sea - as if we hadn't just survived a week collective 152 years of scampering over rocks next to the ocean. Tossers.
Barely visible in this picture, my family!
Ireland has a great story-telling culture. And faced with such amazing geology as the Causeway, they came up with fittingly imaginative legends. Finn McCool, the giant, built the Causeway as a bridge to Scotland to challenge his rival. However, once he got to Scotland he found his rival was far larger than he expected! He ran back to Ireland in fear, pursued by his colossal rival. Fortunately his wife had a clever idea, and swaddled him as a babe. Seeing this enormous "infant" and aghast at the idea of a full-grown giant, Finn's rival fled back to Scotland, destroying the causeway behind him.
Regardless of the origin, be it allegorical or volcanic, the causeway and cliffs are quite impressive. The cliffs are larger and the individual rock formations smaller than I expected, but still bizarre and awe-inspiring. We went out over the upper trail, getting a birds eye view, before continuing down the face to the formations and back across the coast. I gave my family a head start to get some photos of them dwarfed by the cliffs. Those little red and yellow dots? Those are my family! Then I raced off after them - midway across the face we saw the Giant's organ and then we hiked around the point to the end of the trail, before heading back to the causeway proper.
In the intertidal rock-and-wave zone we climbed all over the rocks, got yelled at by the wankers in "Luminous" vests, and I finally got a decent photo of some birds. Flighty little buggers, them. Then, regrettably, it was time to head home. We hiked back up the coast (and finally saw Finn's Camel which we'd been misidentifying for hours!) As I waited for Adam to extract the car and my family to circumnavigate the visitors center I spent my time telling random people in the parking lot how to avoid the entrance fees. #Resist
Then it was over. We got in the car, drove back to Swords (the suburb of Dublin next to the airport), and had our last pub dinner. Dad even got a good beer this time! Now it's time to shower, sleep, and get on an airplane.
All in all I completely recommend Ireland. It's one of the most beautiful countries on earth, and has the richest history of anywhere I've ever been.
(Adam)'s picture of Ethan and Dad about to get whistled
Yesterday I mentioned how much we love waves and wind and the violence.... and apparently God listens closely to Ireland, because he heard me and delivered in spades. We woke up early(ish) to do the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge! When we arrived we found it was closed due to high winds... but we were still free to take a chilly hike down to the bridge, so we did! Honestly, I think not walking the bridge in terrible weather is more fun than walking the bridge in great weather would be. The bridge itself looks pretty ridiculously overbuilt, but 40 knots is well over their limit. I might be disappointed if it was still the old working fishing bridge - one railing and some sketchy boards...
Having admired the wind and waves from a distance, we decided we'd check them out close up and stopped back at Ballintoy harbor! A higher tide and the excessive winds made rocks much more precarious. Most of the rocks we climbed yesterday were unreachable without a death wish, and the channels looked like they'd love to grind a boat to splinters. In short, it was great.
We then hit Dunseverick castle! Unfortunately Cromwell absolutely destroyed it in the 1650s, and now the ruins of the gatehouse barely survive :( . I jogged a few feet down the path to get some pictures, then we all jumped back in the car to head to another castle!
(Dad)'s picture of us examining the chimneys
Maintaining momentum we went to Dunluce castle! This castle is said to have inspired CS Lewis's Caire Paravel - both are abandoned castles half fallen into the sea. But first, lunch. Sandwiches at the tasty and very warm on-site cafe were vastly appreciated. Mom even got fancy English tea with all the accouterments. Then we went to the castle proper. After a surprisingly interesting video explaining the history (Scotch-Irish warriors lost the castle to a clan of Scottish Mercenaries they had hired and imported a few decades earlier) we wandered down into the ruins! It was better preserved (and with more safety railings) than I expected. But it was totally a castle, with arrow-slots, towers, and even a drawbridge! (Back in the day - the bridge doesn't draw anymore). And as it was on a corner of the coastal cliffs the wind tore through it and chilled our fingers fiercely. We were discussing heading down to sea the sea-caves literally beneath the castle, but the path down was closed... which simplified our decision.
(Adam) took this picture the best. What a cool castle.
Next on the plan was Giant's Causeway, but as the winds had not subsided at all and the coldness was seeping into our bones, we continued on to Downhill Demesne instead. We blew by the entrance at first, which worked out as it meant we could go down to the beach and look up at the iconic library! Several of us were in favor of driving out on the beach (where the road lead), but some of us were not, so that proposal got nixed. After parking at Downhill Demesne we walked through a fancy door and across the walled garden, towards the Mussenden Temple, as the library is officially known!
First stop was the dove-cote. This round building was an icehouse on the lower levels, and the upper level had nesting slots for 300 pairs of doves (Typical occupancy: 200 doves. Current occupancy: 1 pigeon, and 5 tourists avoiding the rain). It was quite a neat structure. If I ever have a farm or an extra acre somewhere I'll probably try to build a dovecote... or maybe I'll just sneak into the woods and build one in the middle of nowhere... Once the rain shower had (mostly) passed and it was back to being only cold and windy, we continued towards the circular library. My parents veered off towards the manor, while the boys chose the coastal road. We walked across the field (except for Adam, who galloped) and made it to the cliff-side wall, where we could look down on the carpark we'd just visited. Now we could clearly see the library and approached it, pausing to take pictures (and attempt to take better versions of the photos our other brothers had just taken.). Finally making it to the library, we rejoined our parents. It would have been an amazing library. Excellent natural light, shelter from the elements, and coves for statues and shelving all around. On top of that, back in the day a fire was kept burning continually beneath the floor to keep it warm and protect the books from the dampness which was now all-so evident. On top of that, the library was right on the cliff, providing excellent views. When it was constructed, there was "enough room to run a carriage around" the library. Now, just like at the cliffs of Moher and the Dunluce castle, erosion had made itself strikingly evident, and there is now only enough room to walk a small dog around the library - assuming you and your dog are both very sure-footed.
We then made our way up to the manor, which was construct to imitate an older castle, and by and large did so. When we were in Dunluce, I thought that if I ever built a castle I'd build it to look like ruins look - not like historical castles actually looked when they were built. Here, the Hervey family did exactly that at the beginning of the 19th century. Later, the manor was given to the RAF, who let it go to ruin after the war. Having explored the entire manor we were well cold, and ready to go home, so we made our way back to the car.
(Adam)'s picture of our parents and the manor.
But I was still hyped up on the caffeine I'd had with lunch and pushed for more. Mom brought up the Lissanduff Earthworks, and I immediately agreed without knowing what they were. I assumed some sort of pottery factory - but I was wrong! They are instead prehistoric earthen constructions. We followed the GPS to the middle of nowhere, checked the satellite imagery, and then Ethan and I decided to YOLO it. We jumped out, climbed over a fence, and tromped through the prickerbushes endemic to Ireland towards where the Earthworks should be! What first appeared as random hills resolved as concentric rings, 8 feet high. Inside the center ring is a marshy collection of reeds, just wet enough to drench your boots if you were, for example, to tromp into the center of the ring trying to feel mystic pagan energies. (None were felt). We then found the second ring, which was mowed, dry, and had staircases for official access. Then we found a path to a carpark! We jogged back to the first ring and saw dad walking out to us. With exaggerated sign-language we semiphore'd that they should drive down around toward the shore - signals he relayed to the car. Then we tromped around and after a few minutes Mom and Adam came walking up the trail! As weird as the site is, what is more weird is that in the 1800's someone decided that it would make a great place for a garden, and put their house/shed RIGHT THERE. They bulldozed (or whatever you did in the 1800s) the 3000 year old temple / shipping terminal / fort, built their shed as part of the inner ring, and built their house as part of the outer ring, and used it as a garden. Weird.
We made our way back down to the carpark, watched the waves (still whipped into full violence by the cutting wind), and then drove the 10 minutes back to our airBNB. A quick stop to freshen up, and then Adam treated us to a very upscale meal where Mom got giggly off a quarter glass of wine. It was cute. All in all a great, but tiring, day.
Dear Irish God: Please let tomorrow be less windy. I'd really like to see Giant's Causeway while being able to feel my fingertips.
Ireland has a great story-telling culture. And faced with such amazing geology as the Causeway, they came up with fittingly imaginative legends. Finn McCool, the giant, built the Causeway as a bridge to Scotland to challenge his rival. However, once he got to Scotland he found his rival was far larger than he expected! He ran back to Ireland in fear, pursued by his colossal rival. Fortunately his wife had a clever idea, and swaddled him as a babe. Seeing this enormous "infant" and aghast at the idea of a full-grown giant, Finn's rival fled back to Scotland, destroying the causeway behind him.
