Through the North
We've done a bit of traveling of late, leaving out of Westport on Thursday and not returning until Tuesday. We traversed the north, both the part in the Republic of Ireland and the area identified as part of the UK and known as Northern Ireland.
For point of reference, Ireland is a relatively small land mass. If you're a Floridian, consider the following - draw a line from West Palm Beach to the west coast of Florida, draw a line from Jacksonville west. The area between those lines approximates the height and width of Ireland. Of course, you'll want to tip the mass a little to the right and make the coastline quite irregular. But, essentially, you'll have a good sense of the shape and size of the island. The population of the Republic is a little under 5 million, of Northern Ireland a little under 2. In comparison, the population of Florida is a little over 21 million.
So, we set out from Westport, drove through Sligo and up into Co. Donegal. All of the west coast of Ireland is ruggedly beautiful, but it may be the consensus that Donegal's coastline is in a class of its own. Some areas are very remote and very sparsely populated, and the beaches look as though they've never been trod by the feet of we humans - homo, sometimes sapiens - after all, the word means "wise."
 |
| Clockwise: Westport to Letterkenny to Derry to Cushendall to Belfast to Dublin and back to Westport |
Although, in the past, we've driven some of this coastline - Killybegs, Glencolumbkille, the Sliabh Liag seacliffs (three times the height of the Cliffs of Moher, thank you), and up through Rosapenna (great links golf course), we were on a mission. Our visitor, our good friend Carol, wanted to taste a bit of Irish history and see some new things on this, her fourth, visit to Ireland.
So, off we went to Glenveagh Castle, not far from the bustling little city of Letterkenny. I like all of Ireland, but I must admit that the changes in both accents and hospitality - from the familiar lilt of Mayo to the hard-edged northern accent, from the expansive and warm approach of folks in the south to the somewhat reserved and standoffish approach of folks in the north - somewhat diminish the feeling of good cheer I normally experience whenever here in Ireland.
 |
| Seacliffs at Sliabh Liag - 1,955 feet high |
 |
| Beach at Glencolumbkille |
But I'm glad we made the drive up to Glenveagh once again (we'd visited in 2011). We are so comfortable in Westport that it's hard to pull ourselves away. Glenveagh has quite a story and much natural beauty. The general area is very barren - granite mountains with just a hint of green vegetation. But the three men who had served as masters of the castle since its beginnings in the mid 1800s had an amazing vision of this stark and beautiful setting.
The first master was universally abhorred. In 1861, not long after The Great Famine, John George Adair turned out 46 families, over 240 people, from their rough and poor cottages as a result of a murder he suspected these poor Irish tenant farmers of committing. His chief shepherd, a cruel man, was in charge of introducing blackfaced sheep to the area and these sheep were certain to require more grazing land, forcing the poor tenants from their mean and meager holdings. When the man went missing and was discovered dead, Adair took the opportunity to evict his tenants in the cold and brutal April of that year.. He had their cottages "tumbled" or razed and drove the people from the land. Many emigrated to Australia and were lost to their families forever. Others ended up in the local workhouse - a demeaning, inhumane existence. Among those evicted was a widow and her seven children. Adair's actions caused universal outrage, but he would not relent. It was later discovered that the shepherd had been killed on the orders of another shepherd because he had been having an affair with the man's wife.
Adair originally built the castle as a hunting retreat and upon his death in 1885, his American born wife, who lived to 1921, became a kind and generous benefactor of the local community. Glenveagh's other two owners, an American professor from Harvard and a wealthy Philadelphia businessman, developed the property around the castle and added many different gardens. All three owners of the castle planted an evergreen forest in a multi-acre area around the castle, a softening contrast to the natural environment.
The interior of the castle is in impeccable and elegant condition and is furnished as it was when its last owner, Henry McIlhenny, welcomed Greta Garbo and many other famous people as guests. McIlhenny's grandfather had emigrated from the area to America, made a vast fortune as the inventor of the gas meter, and his grandson bought and used the castle for his summer retreat. Great story, huh? The estate, with over 40,000 acres of mountains, bogs, lakes, and woodlands was sold to the Irish state in 1975.
 |
| Glenveagh Castle |
 |
| Garden gate |
 |
| Glenveagh lough |
 |
| Sumptuous garden - the "Victorian Pleasure Grounds" |
 |
| Looking out from the glass house |
 |
| Kee's Hotel |
 |
| Dining room |
 |
| The pride of Northern Ireland |
 |
| Looking at Bogside, the scene of Bloody Sunday, through the steel barriers that crown Derry's fortified walls. |
 |
| Mural in Bogside |
 |
| Bloody Sunday memorial |
 |
| In Bogside. Memorializing the killing of a teenager in the unprovoked attack by British soldiers on Bloody Sunday. Twenty-eight were shot; fourteen were killed on January 30, 1972. |
 |
| Peace Bridge over the River Foyle connecting the Protestant and Catholic areas of Derry |
We toured Derry, strolled the ancient fortified walls of the city, spoke with some historical re-enactors, visited a couple of museums, and walked away feeling that a united Ireland may be a good ways off. Much as in the States, it appears that there are few shared common facts that might provide a starting point for full reconciliation. Hopefully, the pressures of Brexit won't re-ignite old hatreds and lead to accelerating violence. You get the sense that tensions lie not so far from the surface.
From Derry, we drove the northern coastline. We drove through Coleraine, Portstewart, Portrush (scene of the past weekend's triumph by Irishman Shane Lowry at the British Open), and continued along to the resort town of Ballycastle. Along the way, we stopped at Dunluce Castle, the Giant's Causeway, and the suspended rope bridge at Carrick-a-Rede.
 |
| Dunluce Castle |
 |
| Carol surveying the castle grounds |
 |
| Ballintoy Harbor - used in Game of Thrones |
 |
| Carrick-a-rede suspended rope bridge in the distance |
Dunluce Castle was originally built by the MacQuillan clan in the
14th century. By the 16th century, the castle belonged to the MacDonnells, an
offshoot of the Scots clan McDonald. The castle changed hands many times over
the years due to shifting loyalties and political expediency. In 1635, the
first Earl of Antrim's son Randal married Catherine Manners, the widow of the
English Duke of Buckingham. The Duchess hated the sound of the sea and felt the
castle had been built too closely to the coastline. Indeed, her fears were
confirmed when, one night in 1639, the cliff crumbled, taking the kitchen into
the sea during a grand dinner. Several servants were lost. Randal was forced
into exile during the Cromwellian years and never returned to preside over
Dunluce.
After Dunluce, we headed across to the Giant's Causeway. The
Giant's Causeway is on the UNESCO list of World Heritage sites. It may be a
superb natural formation or it might be the creation of the giant Fionn
MacCumhail. Such is the legend. Fionn built the causeway to walk to Scotland to
fight Benandonner, Scotland's own giant. The 40,000 basalt columns, in
hexagonal shape, appear as stepping stones, some standing as tall as twelve
metres. Fionn built the causeway, but returned home to rest from his arduous
labors. Benandonner used the stepping stones to come to Ireland to surprise
Fionn. Fionn's wife Oomagh, hearing the hostile giant approach, told Fionn to
hide in the bed, and when the Scots giant arrived at their home, she convinced
him that Fionn was indeed only her husband's small child. Benandonner fled,
frightened to confront what must certainly have been an extraordinarily large
giant to have fathered such a child!
 |
| Milseain with dodgy looking dude |
We continued along through what was perhaps the worst weather day we've had this visit. We stopped for a bit of lunch in the lovely seaside resort town of Ballycastle, then out into the country in search of our b and b. Through the good offices of Google Maps, we finally located the Garron View, with a gorgeous view of Garron Point. It's listed as one of the outstanding headlands on
the Antrim coast, located in The Glens of Antrim. It provides a scenic and
distinctive backdrop for Red Bay and is part of The Antrim Coast. We
hoped the weather would lift so we could appreciate the view, but it wasn't to
be. Still, a comfortable stay in a charming purpose-built bed and breakfast and a good meal awaiting us in the town.
In the morning we set out for Belfast, with the plan of
visiting the very well reviewed Titanic Museum and learning a bit more about
local history. The Museum was terrific - a ninety minute immersion in the
building of the Titanic, the everyday life of the times, and the events that
led to the tragic sinking of this sailing behemoth. We ran short on time
and were just able to catch the last hop-on, hop-off bus around the city.
Unfortunately, all we could do was view the sites from the bus - had we gotten
off, we would have had to find our way back to city centre on our own. I
truly would have liked to have had the time to get off and see the murals up
close and take some pictures to share, especially those on the
"peace" walls.
Belfast is a small city, but it’s demarcated by almost 100 ‘peace
walls’ that separate Catholic and Protestant areas. Once serving as
peace-keeping measures, they are now, in a post-Good Friday Agreement Northern
Ireland, popular tourist locations. Here’s our brief guide to Northern
Ireland’s peace lines.
One of the most famous peace walls sits between the Loyalist
Shankill Road and the Irish Republican Falls Road. Tensions between the two
streets have existed since the 1800s, and the Troubles saw a rise in violence
in this already violent area. As a solution, the peace wall separating the two
popped up. This wall stretches for 800 metres (2,624.6 feet), an imposing
multi-level concrete structure.
As time marched on and the violence in Northern Ireland died
down, gates began to appear in the walls. Although they still existed, and
still segregated neighbourhoods, the walls now allowed passage from one area to
another. Police staff some of these gates, and many are closed at night.
In recent years, the peace walls have become part of the
fabric of Belfast’s tourism industry. Black cab tours travel around iconic
locations in the city, many of which have to do with the Troubles. The peace
walls have found themselves on the same route as the city’s most famous murals,
which isn’t surprising, as much of Belfast’s wall art is actually on the peace
lines themselves.
It's funny (well, not ha ha funny), but as we were driving along through the sectarian areas of Belfast, I noticed a number of political murals - both sides - and not a lot of charity shown on either side frankly. But one mural particularly caught my attention. It was on the Protestant side of town. It was a portrayal of a marcher - big drum, big orange sash, big aggressive grimace on the face. The sentiment, expressed in big bold letters, was - "Culture never killed anyone." I found myself thinking of the license plates at home in Florida - the ones of the Confederate flag that read "Heritage, not hate." Sorry, I don't believe either one of these. Heck, at least have the honesty shown by the local Vero man with the following plate on his car - "If I knew it was going to be this much trouble, I would've picked my own cotton." Nice, huh?
We spent the night in a fine hotel in Belfast, had a good dinner across the street, and arose early the following day to drop Carol in Dublin to get her plane back to the States. Then we returned to Westport for our last week in country. I blunted my sadness about our imminent return by heading to Matt Molloy's to enjoy the musical tsunami known as the "Garvey Brothers and friends" and to join up with Padraic and Marion and their son Donnacha and daughter-in-law Bernie. A good fun night.
 |
| Belfast - peace wall between Catholic and Protestant areas. |