A photo-essay blog of our trip to Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland | Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

On the road in Ireland

Well, we’re in Ireland for the week, celebrating the end of Zoe’s A-S exams (public exams taken by 17 year olds, for my non-British readers). And we choose Ireland, because it’s slow, magical, green, and fascinating.

We have taken a ferry from Wales to the Republic of Ireland in the past, but this time decided to take a ferry from Stranraer in Scotland to Larne in Northern Ireland, to show the kids a bit of the six counties of Northern Ireland.

A few pictures along the way:

Gorse and hawthorn by the road to the Giant’s Causeway

Scotch-Irish pride

Celebrating the queen

Celebrating the queen in the center of Ballymoney

This “shop window” is actually painted

Another of the many painted windows

The Giant’s Causeway is Northern Ireland’s foremost tourist attraction and it is a natural wonder, with its massive hexagonal columns. I enjoyed the colourful beach with its pinks, owl’s clover and bright yellow gorse.

Some pictures of the basalt columns–not all are hexagons, as you can see.

Columns with barnacles

These columns are on the back of the columns in the previous pictures

Zoe on top of Finn Maccool’s Shoe

Zoe and Irene posing

Zoe, Irene and I

The Northern Irish are far blunter than the English. We took a National Trust bus out, and Diane, the cheery guide tells the passengers, “Now I know most of you won’t speak English, but hopefully, you’ll understand a little.” In England, they’d pretend that, of course, everyone understood English.

I love the Irish accent. “It’s like leprechauns,” Irene says, though how she knows what leprechauns sound like, beats me.

* * *

Lakes, for me, are sheer magic, second only to the ocean. So we spent a day on Lough Erne in County Fermanagh. Rented a Canadian canoe, and rowed out among the baby ducklings, the mallards, the coots, and magical swans. Perfect relaxation!! (The photos don’t capture it.)

A rather eccentric boat.

A disused concrete pier

A boat hosue

Crossing from Great Britain to the Republic of Ireland is the most unspectacular border crossing ever. You are driving down a modest, narrow road, and suddenly read, “Welcome to Donegal,” and the signs are in Irish, and you say, “Kids, we are in a foreign country,” and that’s it!!

We are in a camper van, and camped by the most magical lake, surrounded by pink rhododendron bushes which were reflected in the lake on our first night in Ireland.

Photo of the lake taken at 10:30 pm

In the morning, the rhododendrons are much clearer

Close up of a horsetail

Then walked on a beach, quite far out. The tide obviously came in behind us; Irene, who had decided to sit on the sea wall and read, suddenly hollered, “the tide’s rushing in,” and we looked around. And so it had. We landed up wading back through hip-deep freezing Atlantic waters. Third time in my life that I’ve been caught out—once in Virginia and once in Oregon. Must get the hang of tides!!

These plants would soon be submerged

* * *

Camped (well, in the motor home) wild out by Lough Eske last night. Today’s adventures: I want to visit the ruined Abbey Assaroe, founded by the Cistercians in 1184, to soak in the remnants of peace and holiness that still cleave to these holy places. Want to drive into and hike on the Blue Stack mountains, and walk on the sea cliffs at Slieve League.

And deeply breathe in the peace and serenity of County Donegal!!