8/10/11, Antrim Coast

At Giant's Causeway... hanging on for dear life!

We woke up this morning and went down for a lovely breakfast at our B&B, Ardenlee B&B (thanks, Rick). Kat and I left for the Antrim Coast and arrived at the Giant's Causeway around about 10 minutes after we left Portrush (was only 7 km from our B&B). We walked 1-1.5 km from the parking lot to the actual rock formations along a really cool shoreline path. On the way, we had to stop for the staff to clear off debris from a rockslide that had happened the night before. Those Irishmen know how to handle a tractor:) Since we were walking along the base of some sheer cliffs, the very real threat of rockslides made us a little nervous as we continued on to the main event... The weather was overcast but with a little blue sky, and the wind was blowing crazy hard. Giant's Causeway... so bizarre.

 The area was a lot smaller than I thought it would be - the entire area of the rock formations was probably the size of half a football field. I found it very strange that out of the entire world, this tiny area was home to such a phenomenon... Scientists hypothesize that the columns are hardened volcanic rock, and some property of the lava caused it to solidify into hexagonal columns. It was so strange. It reminded me of honeycombs... perfect hexagons of stone fitted perfectly together. Why this one spot in the world? We wondered and wandered and took pics for about 2 hours, then we headed up the road about 4-5 km to Carrick-a-Rede, the rope bridge.

Self-timer shots with the Giant's Boot! Kat cheated death to get these shots.

"I'm not looking down!"

The bridge has been hung each April-September since the mid-late 1800s to help salmon fishermen catch fish. It was just what we were hoping... the bridge was narrow, high, and rickety:) A lot of folks were a bit skittish when crossing, but I had my video camera out, and Kat was yelling and taking pictures the whole time... she fit right in with the tour bus of Asian tourists that were crossing with us. We took a bit of time to explore the tiny island after crossing the bridge and saw some amazing scenery. The island was about the size of my parents' front yard. We were tripping over other tourists, and Kathryn kept telling me to stay away from the edge... she was starting to sound like my mama:) The water was the same blue as the Caribbean - but you usually don't deal with 40mph wind gusts in the Caribbean! Right at the time we were at the bridge, we had the only bright sunshine of the day. The entire place was indescribably beautiful...

You would not believe how narrow those stairs were!

 We went to a little picnic spot that Rick had mentioned for a snack of Nutella and biscuits. It was so windy my water bottle (which was full) kept blowing away... no lie. So we stayed there about 3 minutes and decided to eat our snack in Rooster while driving to the Bushmills whiskey distillery. Once we were there, we bought tickets for a tour which was really enlightening... Our guide walked us through the distillery and explained how Irish whiskey is made. They had just started up production after a 5 week break in the summer for maintenance, cleaning, etc... so we got to see the place at full steam. Apparently whiskey-making is quite the art. One cool fact - they use only seasoned oak casks for the maturation of Bushmills whiskey, and they have 4 suppliers - some type of Spanish sherry, some kind of Portuguese port, a wine I can't remember, and Kentucky bourbon (Wild Turkey and Jim Beam)! So here we are, ambling through the distillery with our group of 10 or so folks from all over the world. I'm straining to hear what our guide was saying (I have trouble with the accents, have I mentioned that?), and suddenly I hear her mention "Jim Beam." Then a ear-splitting "Ow-OUW!" comes from the back of the group... I turn to see - who else? - Kathryn fist-pumping and grinning from ear to ear. Then, to make matters worse, she yells, "Jim! That's my man!" Heavens. You can't take that girl anywhere... Thankfully, the whiskey barrel station was near the end of the tour. Once it finished, we were given free drink vouchers to taste some Bushmills whiskey. Problem? I hate whiskey. So I ordered a hot toddy and pretended to enjoy it so Kathryn wouldn't think I was a sissy.

Slainte!

I was cringing inside...

Kathryn and I finally dragged ourselves away from Bushmills, returned to the B&B by 5pm, then took a 2 hour nap. Lovely:)

I. Love. Ireland.

What I saw the entire trip...

Where's Meagan?

A cow named Tennessee.

Tuesday, 8/9/11, Letterkenny to Portrush

At Malin Head, the northernmost tip of Ireland

Go, Rooster, Go!

Today might have been my very favorite day of the trip. Seriously... We woke up to Maureen cooking us a full Irish breakfast; this included cereal, soda bread, fresh fruit, bacon, eggs, sausage, toast, and REAL coffee! As we were eating, we asked Maureen what we should see as we made our way into Northern Ireland - she told us to drive to Malin Head. A couple from Seattle were sitting next to us, and they both agreed with Maureen. Those two folks had been biking (as in, pedaling) around Ireland for the past 2 weeks (we were ashamed to tell them about our horrific biking trip around Dingle). Anyway, the man claimed they had been to the most scenic point in Ireland on Malin Head. Well, we couldn't miss that, right?!  Malin Head is a peninsula that is circled by a tiny road that takes you to the northernmost tip of Ireland. The cyclist's directions were something like, "drive until you get the cemetery then turn... the pull off is just past the old tree." No problem, Seattle-man... we have impeccable senses of direction. We soon found ourselves on a single lane road in the middle of nowhere... first we came upon an incredibly remote, beautiful beach where a sheep dog herded Rooster into a parking spot. We stopped for some pictures and I walked down to the frigid water to put my toes in. We kept looking for the cemetery, because surely this wasn't the spot. It was beautiful, but not the best spot we had seen.  As we were searching for the cemetery, we kept seeing Gaelic signs with '100' on them. You should have heard our conversations about those signs... "100 miles?" "100 windmills?" "100 people died at this point?" "You think you can see 100 km in each direction from there?" "Maybe '100' means something else in Gaelic?" Remember that we were the two who, on a roadtrip several years ago, decided that MB Church meant "Methodist Baptist" church... makes perfect sense!

Farmer Paddy drove up to this...

Anyway, we passed some black and white cows - mental note (Kathryn had it in her head to take a close up picture of a black and white cow on a green hill sometime during the trip) -  and some farmers Saran-wrapping hay bales (we had wondered about that). We made it up to the car park at the overlook and the view was incredible. Seattle man had not exaggerated. You could see for miles... everything from water to beaches to rocks to mountains to rolling pastures. We both took some pictures then headed back down the way we came. We stopped for a few moments to watch how the hay bales were Saran-wrapped, then stopped again to see the cow. I kept the car running, just pulled off on the side of the road while Kathryn opened her door and stood up on the car to take some pics of "Bessie." I found myself mooing at the cow, and would laugh when she moo-ed back! As we were laughing, we realized she was not mooing to say hello, the cow was in labor!

Poor Bessie...

Kathryn then climbed up on the hood of the car to get some close-ups, and I moved closer to the fence to give Bessie some moral support. We were freaking out! Just at that moment, the farmer pulled up in his little tiny car, and we greeted him with , "SIR, YOUR COW IS HAVING A BABY!" He looked at us strangely and muttered something that sounded like "Yeah" (again, we have problems with the accents). Kathryn then climbed off the car, and we had a lovely conversation with Farmer Paddy (that's what we called him) about cows, the miracle of birth, Saran-wrapping hay bales ("Ah, that's the McFadden boys down the road... it costs an extra 12 euro to wrap those bales."), and our ignorance of farming. He told us to come back anytime and he would teach us how to farm.  Anyway, when we found out Bessie would take 3 hours minimum to have that baby cow, we knew we couldn't stick around for the baby's arrival. But Farmer Paddy promised to name the calf after us once it was born - Tennessee! There is a baby cow in Ireland named after Meagan Moody and Kathryn Spencer. Farmer Paddy also told us that we needed to go back up to the scenic point on top the mountain and continue on from there... So we left the farmer, Bessie, and little Tennessee, and drove back up the mountain. The weather was PERFECT on this day. Sunny, warm, fluffy clouds in the sky... we never figures out what that "100" meant, but think it was referring to the scenic overlook.

Kat suggested a less ladylike pose...

We ate more Nutella and biscuits while on the road to Derry and crossed the border into Northern Ireland without even realizing it... Moment like our arrival into Derry made me realize that our trip must be God-divined... As we entered Derry, we were stressing about navigating the city (this was our first REAL city since Dublin) to find parking; we knew we needed to find an ATM quickly because we only had euros in our purses, and we both had to go to the bathroom really badly! So Kat found us a parking garage easy-peasy - we pulled into an open spot right as we entered, walked out of the parking garage and the first thing we saw was a women's public restroom with an ATM right next to it! If that's not a sign from God, I don't know what is:)  Kathryn and I spent about 2 hours in Derry walking the perimeter of the city center atop the old medieval city wall. Derry is one of the only cities in Europe whose entire city wall is still intact... We took some pics, watched some little girls Irish dancing, stopped for Lucozades, and left town!

Our breakfast nook:)

 We got to Portrush and fell in love. We immediately found a great B&B on the harbor side of the town and set off exploring. Portrush is an old, kinda rundown beach resort town that is actually surrounded by water on 3 sides of town. There were two large stretches of beach within walking distance of our B&B, and we watched the kids surfing and body boarding for a long time before trying to find some music for the evening. We were there on a Tuesday night, so much was not happening in town:) However, in every other town we had visited, good music was always available to hear on ANY night of the week. We sauntered into the pub to see 8-10 grown men sitting in a circle all playing acoustic guitars. We listened for a while, hooting and hollering when they played some Lynrd Skynrd, but mentioned to each other that the guys weren't very good... We later found out that one of the guys (who was originally from New Jersey) was the other guys' guitar teacher, and he and the REAL band were going to be starting later... so we met some new friends, one being a 70-something year old British guy named Ian who was a brilliant harmonica player. We had the best time! The band kept playing songs for the "girls from Tennessee", and Ian and BJ (another older gentleman who took lessons from Jersey) kept us entertained with stories all night long.

Me, BJ, precious Ian, and Kat!

It was just another randomly wonderful day in Ireland:)

Nutella Love...

Monday, 8/8/11, Westport to Letterkenny

See me, Mama?! I'm at the castle with Rooster!

What a long, fun day! We were up early (with our 16 roommates) and out of Westport by 8:30 am (I was afraid we had parked illegally overnight). We stopped at a store for food, and made our most valuable purchase of the trip - a jar of Nutella.  Our first adventure of the day occurred mid-morning when Kat spotted a castle WAY off to our left, and we went off-route to find it.  We ended up in a tiny beach town named... nevermind - that town wasn't on our map. We drove a little loop around the head of a peninsula and found out the "castle" was a private residence with a HUGE gate and a guardhouse... I bet the president lives there.  Kat hopped out and got a few good shots of cows, scenery, and Rooster (imagine).

Don't do it! Think of the ewes you're leaving behind!

Kathryn and I made it to Donegal town where we ate our first REAL restaurant meal of the trip (it wasn't a pub, JUST a restaurant!). We stopped at the tourist office to check on accommodations in Letterkenny via the World Wide Web. We quickly found a place to stay (they charge by the minute for Internet) and booked it. Toured the town - took about 15 minutes - and went to find the Slieve League cliffs. A guide book I had read called it the Grand Canyon of Ireland. The cliffs drop from 1920 ft to the Atlantic. We drove up this horrendously narrow, switchbacked road and ended at a car park. The road continued, but a gate blocked our way. We were a bit sore from our mountain experience the day before, so we thought a little jaunt up the road to the cliffs would help us work out the kinks... about 1-1.5 miles later we FINALLY arrived at a 2nd car park that overlooked the cliffs... SERIOUSLY?! Why did someone close that gate?! Oh, well... It was good for our heart. Kat chased some more sheep and even sent one running off the edge of the cliff! Not to worry, he survived - AND she got some good "sheep shots" out of the adventure. The wind was tremendous, but it was a beautiful detour.  As we left that town, we saw a sign for a beach and felt the urge to check it out. It was at the end of a little road and the sand stretched about 1/4 mile from the road to the water. No joke. As we walked onto the beach, a car passed us - you wouldn't believe how excited we got! I ran back to the car park to bring ol' Rooster onto the beach for a photo shoot! He handled that sand like a dream... I imagine if a car could smile, Rooster was grinning from ear to ear. As Kat was positioning the camera for yet another self-timer shot, a piece of trash blew out of the car and went tumbling down the beach. I knew that we could NOT leave Ireland as "litterers", so I took off in a dead sprint to catch the trash. Did I mention the wind was blowing approximately 50 miles per hour?! I finally caught up to the dang bag 200 yards down the beach (felt like 3 miles) while Kathryn laughed and took pictures (all the while sitting in one place). I could deduce only one fact from my heroic venture... I am faster than the wind. We had a hilarious photo shoot with Rooster - no telling what all the other folks on the beach were thinking:)

 

 Greatest discovery of the trip - Nutella and biscuits. We bought a sleeve of "biscuits" at the petrol station (we were hoping they were cookies, not crackers - only took us a full 5 minutes of debating to decide on the biscuits) and ate nutella smeared onto the cookies for the rest of the trip. Delicious!  After this lovely discovery, we drove towards the northwestern tip of County Donegal. County Donegal is known as the least populated and least civilized part of the country. We left the highway on a county road to drive the coastline to the Bloody Foreland - some red granite cliffs... We were the only ones on the road and suddenly our way was blocked by 10-15 sheep! Love! Kat quickly leaped out of the car and proceeded to run after the sheep to get a good picture... let me repeat myself in case you missed it - wearing her flip flops, linen pants, and camera around her neck, she ran down the middle of the road after the sheep. Not to worry - I got it on video. It was a favorite moment of the trip for me:)  After Kathryn got her breath back, and I wiped the tears from my eyes, we saw the gorgeous coastline and we headed on towards Letterkenny.

See?! TWO sheets. With ruffles.

        Turn up your volume for the video:)

Once arriving, we had a date with destiny. We had rough directions to our hostel for the night, but despite asking 3-4 cute Irishmen and cruising the neighborhood several times, we could NOT find the place. As a last-ditch effort (we were thinking we may have to sleep in Rooster), we pulled into a small B&B to ask if they knew the location of the place. Mr. Pat had never heard of the place, but he mentioned that they still had a vacancy for the evening. We quickly agreed and Mrs. Maureen came out to show us to our room. It was heaven! There were TWO sheets on each bed, one fitted and one flat; big, fluffy bath towels; a bathroom of our own with little samples of soap and shampoo; and a TV! We thought we had died and gone to heaven. I didn't realize how tired I was of using my little hand towel in the bathroom and how uncomfortable all those bunk beds had been. We heart Maureen.

Hike of death.

*Insert Jaws theme song here*

Sunday, 8/7/11, Galway to Westport

I'm off to the right, lying on the rocks and gasping for air

Today we had another GREAT idea... "while we're driving around the country, let's hike up a mountain!" Rick Steves, our BFF, had written about the annual pilgrimage that occurs each spring to the top of Croagh Patrick. Thousands of people will hike to the top, many barefoot, to attend mass at the small chapel on the summit. According to local legend, Croagh Patrick is the site where St. Patrick cast all the snakes out of Ireland. Anyway, it sounded like fun! Looking back at the day, "fun" is probably not the word I'd use to describe our Croagh Patrick experience.  We left Galway and drove straight to the mountain in County Mayo. As we were approaching, Croagh Patrick seemed to get taller and steeper with every mile. Needless to say, by the time we got to the parking lot, we were both a bit nervous and wondering what the heck we were getting ourselves into... Our friends Pat and Mary (from the pub in Galway) had hiked it a couple weeks ago and both said it was about a 2-2.5 hour ascension that "was really hard but fun." Whatever that means.  So we parked, strapped on our packs (I was wearing my black leather fanny pack for good luck), and started towards the trailhead, pumped and ready to go! We left Rooster at 11:20am and took our first rest break at 11:30am.  Hardcore... The trail wasn't terribly steep, but was rocky and we were going WAY too fast (that was our excuse). We finally figured out a system of hike and rest for the "easy" portion of the climb. I remember standing just below the ridge (about halfway up) and foolishly hoping that the top of the mountain was just over the top... Even though I could see the trail continuing WAY up the side of the mountain and into the clouds. Eventually, Kat and I reached the ridge where we sat and snacked, took pictures, and sucked wind for a while.  Around that time the rain started to fall... just in time for the last part of the climb (which was reported to be the "tough part"). At times during the last 300 yards, we had to crawl on our hands and feet to keep moving forwards. I swear the slope of the mountain had to be about 45 degrees (or it felt like it) and covered with loose rocks that would wobble and slide if you didn't step just right - which is really easy when you can barely lift one foot past the other. We stopped laughing and talking at this point...occasionally one of us would exclaim something like, "Where's that dang church?!" and "Please tell me we're almost there!" By the end, we and all our new friends - fellow climbers- would walk about 20 feet then stop and breathe, climb 20 ft and stop, etc... It was a slow and painful process:)  After an hour and 45 minutes of climbing (beat that, Rick! He said we would need 3 hours to get to the top...), we FINALLY reached the top! Praise Jesus!

I. Can't. Breathe.

Atop the summit, the temperatures dropped significantly - so much so that I could see my breath. We had been rained on for the last 30-45 minutes of our climb, but the clouds lifted and we even saw some sunshine while at the top.  We took some videos and pictures, rested for about 15 minutes, then started the treacherous descent. Going down wasn't easy (it was slick and steep and littered with resting hikers who were still climbing), but it was MUCH better than going up! Kat started up a conversation with an Irishman named Mark, and we ended up walking and talking with him the entire way down. He was great! He told us about Cromwell burning Ireland, Grace O'Malley (a pirate queen), the potato famine, his family's embarrassing history, and the best Westport pubs to visit. By the time we reached Rooster, we were wet, chilled, exhausted, and walking on wobbly legs... what a great morning!

Go USA!

Bacon and cabbage... this plate was licked clean 10 min later.

We had not yet booked accomodations in Westport, so we walked up and down the streets until we stumbled upon a hostel that had only 2 beds left for the night. Meant to be! We took much-needed showers then wandered around the town. They had a music festival going on, so there was much to see! We saw Irish dancing, puppets, poetry recitations, Galway sheep, and a bald eagle... Eventually the hunger got to us, and we had to find a place to eat. Kat had been itching to try bacon and cabbage ever since our new friends in Galway had mentioned it, so we found a seat at the Clock Tavern where she finally got to try the meal, and I had a lovely bowl of Irish stew. It was our first real meal of the day, so we inhaled every bite.  After leaving that place, we stopped at a little hotel pub where they had advertised live music. Once the music started, I looked around and noticed the odd demographics of the crowd. Two folks were in wheelchairs, old Johnny came in dragging his oxygen container with him, and Mary, his lady friend, was creeping along behind him with her energy drink in hand... not a crazy crowd. We met 2 lovely older couples who spoke English to us but Gaelic to each other. Kat and I did a lot of nodding and smiling like we understood:) We then stopped by one other pub to listen to another band, and were back at the hostel by 11pm... so tired...

We Chased Sheep!!!

Jesus shootin' the deuces...

We slept a little later this morning, pulled out of Galway around 10am, and headed northwest to explore the counties Connemara and Mayo. Kat was napping in the passenger seat so when I saw a turn off the main route that looked interesting, I took a right. Soon I was driving along narrow lane with a lake and mountains to my left and SHEEP IN THE ROAD! Finally, our number one item on the Ireland list was completed! WE CHASED SHEEP! We pulled off on the side of the road so that Kat could take some pictures (who would have guessed), and I shot some video of Kathryn hi-stepping (in her flip flops) through the field after the sheep... that girl.

Proof! Sheep in the road!

Rooster photo op. He's so pretty!

The most amazing part of today was the change in landscapes in a short amount of time. We went from the Burren to green rolling pastures, to mountains and lakes, to tiny flat seashores, to the bog... all in a span of 4 hours. It was incredible.
We rode for another hour or so and stopped again at the Connemara National Park visitor's centre. There we read some informational placards about the bog. We had been seeing these short stacks of brown things in the fields and thought it was cow pies...? (You should have heard us discussing it... some of the ideas we had were absurd) Turns out, it was the turf (aka peat) that had been cut and was stacked to dry. Dried peat is used by some Irish folks as a fuel for heating houses - like firewood.Who knew?! We started from the centre to do a short hike but it started to rain pretty hard (and I had recently discovered that my raincoat was not waterproof... only water resistant). After walking about 1/4 mile, we went back to the centre where I had a lovely bowl of mushroom soup and hot tea... Just what I needed at that moment:)

After we left the visitor's centre, we drove down the road until we happened across the bog! We hopped out of Rooster and spread about 20 feet apart. When Kathryn jumped, I felt the ground bouncing under me 20 feet away! We marveled for a while then headed back towards Galway...

Peat that had been cut and stacked to dry...

We did have a short incident where we both relaxed a little too much while driving down a deserted stretch of the road. We had just bragged to some Irishman the night before about how the driving was no big deal, we were pros, etc... Anyway, we were cruising along and I felt that something was a little "off." Right at that moment, a car came around the curve and was heading straight towards us! Needless to say, we had been cruising in the wrong lane for a couple of miles. Oh, well, not a big deal:) We got a little lost on the way back to Galway, but we found it eventually. Thankfully we both have impeccable senses of direction... It was a bit disconcerting to be driving through parts of the country where the signs were written ONLY in Gaelic...

Excited to be in Ireland!

Ate pizza for supper (cooked by a precious Italian man) then went to a pub known for its traditional music... Walked in and Kathryn immediately found prime seating... she was like a bloodhound when it came to finding good spots to listen to the band:) We sat down and a young Irish couple joined us. We were fast friends within a few short minutes:) They taught us everything we now know about Irish dancing, bogs, the Galway races, Irish breakfasts, and "bacon and cabbage with a pint of milk and brown sauce." The band was phenomenal, the company was ridiculously fun... another great day in Ireland! Off to hike Croagh Patrick in the morning!