We were a little anxious about the whole car ferry process (notwithstanding our 5-minute maiden voyage in Windermere), so we hit the road fairly early and arrived at the Stena Line dock in Holyhead well before our 2pm ferry. Prior to boarding, we browsed through the duty-free shop. Stena Line’s high-speed car ferry service is incredibly well run. It took about 25 minutes to load hundreds of cars onto the ferry, and exactly 99 minutes to get to Dun Laoghaire in Ireland. On the boat, there are several restaurants (one had a live band), a duty-free shop, a casino, two bars, and comfortable seats for people who wanted to catch a nap. The crossing was smooth and uneventful.

Once in Dun Laoghaire, we drove north across the border and passed through Newry.

We had trouble reading the road signs after crossing the border because nearly all of them had been plastered with "Vote NO – it’s the right thing to do!" bumperstickers, the work of the loyalists in preparation for the peace referendum vote.

The weather finally turned sunny as we rode into Armagh. We found accomodation at the Charlemont Arms Hotel in the middle of town, and enjoyed some good craic ("talk" in Irish) and several Irish whiskies with the locals in the hotel’s pub. However, I noticed a certain stoicism about these folks. Not surprising since much of the violence in Northern Ireland has taken place in and around Armagh. Armored personnel carriers and grim-faced soldiers with automatic weapons were in evidence, and parts of the town were blocked by "peace lines" separating the Catholic and Protestant areas.

Sunday, June 7th

I’d never seen so many people with red hair in one place before. I felt at home in the cool, humid environment, being around so many people like me – pale and freckled.

It rained today, of course - how else would Ireland stay so green? –so we started off with a very nice Irish breakfast complete with porridge, in the hotel’s restaurant. We were planning on visiting St. Patrick’s Trian Visitor Complex and Armagh Ancestry, but everything was closed, it being a Sunday. Since Armagh is the religious capital of Ireland, we grabbed our camera and got photos of both of the St. Patrick’s Cathedrals – the majestic, four-spired Roman Catholic edifice, and the more unassuming Church of Ireland (Protestant).

We then made a pilgrimage to Navan Fort ("Emain Machca")– a system of earthworks, settlement sites, and sacred places where traces of man dating back to 5500BC have been discovered. It looks like a large mound covered with grass from the outside, and is thought to have been a vast ceremonial center for the surrounding area in the centuries before Christ. It was known as the ancient capital of Ulster. The Navan Visitor Centre offered an informative and entertaining three-part exhibition that told the story of Navan Fort, and was worth every penny. There are a couple famous stories about how the name of Emain Macha came about, and they’re both associated with the Celtic war-goddess, Macha, who not only gave her name to Emain, but also to Armagh ("Ard Macha"). Navan Fort is an example of the strong association between mounds and the Otherworld that has long existed in Irish tradition.

Oddly, sometime in the 1st century BC, the people set the whole thing on fire and then piled several meters of earth and sod on top of it. This formed the large mound seen today. Go figure.

We left Navan Fort, and made our second pilgrimage of the day, driving north to Bushmills at the tip of Northern Ireland. We had reservations at the Bushmills Inn, and so proceeded directly to the Old Bushmills Distillery. The hour-long tour of the distillery was pleasant, and Bill particularly, was overjoyed when they asked for volunteers to do some tasting. He ended up being the proud owner of an official Irish Whiskey Taster Certificate.

Dinner at the Bushmills Inn was delicious – we had the fixed price 3-course meal in the restaurant. We weren’t sorry that we’d ordered the luscious onion soup and lightly sauteed prawns over oriental noodles as appetizers. Our entrees were gaelic steak (filet mignon in a brandy-pepper sauce), and roasted guinea fowl with a gratin of cheeses, Irish bacon and cabbage, which we thoroughly enjoyed. We got two kinds of potatoes with the entrees (boiled new potatoes, and potatoes in a red sauce), along with small ears of corn and buttered carrots. Dessert was very good. Bill got a selection of Irish cheeses (sharp Cheddar, a local Ballymoney blue cheese, and Brie), accompanied by small sections of apples, celery sticks and crackers. I succumbed to a blueberry pudding with my current addiction - warm custard sauce. Topped it all off with an Irish coffee. Mmmm.

On our waddle back to the room, we located the library, and found the secret room. We got a couple books, and wandered back to the rough-hewn timbered ambience of our room. The Bushmills Inn brochures say "it’s one of those places where you hope it rains all day so you have an excuse to snuggle indoors", and we were convinced…

…particularly when we woke up this morning to a drizzle of soft, insistent rain on our window. We checked out of Bushmills after breakfast, and took the A2 East along the Antrim Coast. We drove through the Antrim Glens (supposedly on a clear day, you could see all the way across the North Channel to Scotland), but the rain prevented us from seeing the Glens in their best light. We stopped for a car-picnic on one of the craggy cliffs overlooking the Irish Sea, and soaked up the dramatic, wind-swept views.

We’d planned on checking out the Giants Causeway and the Carrick-a-rede Rope Bridge, but decided against it. We had lunch in Cushendun or Carnlough, and continued on to Belfast, a total of about 90 miles. We checked into Jurys Inn in downtown Belfast.

Unfortunately, I’d again managed to contract a nasty infection, and so the rest of the day was spent dealing with doctors and pharmacies, listening to the sound of the lone helicopter hovering over the Catholic neighborhoods.

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