People. Everywhere, people.
Where was I? I think I was in the van…
GIANTS CAUSEWAY
In the van, we headed further north, to Giants Causeway. Most of what I am about to tell you I learned after the fact. Giants Causeway is a vast grouping of geometrically shaped spires of basalt rock formations at the water’s edge. It’s a very mystical looking groups of rocks. It’s the kind of sight that makes it easy to believe in an age of wizards and sorcerers and fairies. In fact, the local lore is that a giant named Finn McCool built the causeway so he could cross the sea and battle some other giant in Scotland. Geologists have other ideas; namely that the rocks were created when an underground volcano shot lava up from below, and when the lava cooled, it cracked in hexagonal geometric formations. It’s a sight to see either way.
Giants Causeway is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. And there’s a new museum which just opened on July 3rd of this year. It is hugely popular with tourists, and the parking lot was filled with massive white coaches filled to the rafters with camera happy cruise ship passengers. I’m a tourist. I travel and see things. But seeing vast hoards of other tourists- call me hypocritical – leaves a poor taste in my mouth. It’s hard to take in a sight, even one as majestic as this one was, when there is so much humanity hopping around and bumping into you and screaming and shouting. Giants Causeway is Northern Ireland’s biggest tourist site, so I should have known what to expect. (the largest in all of Ireland is the Guinness Storehouse in Dublin.)
Victoria directed me to the Wishing Chair where she sat down and twisted from side to side and made a wish. I followed suit. I looked around, though, and all the tourists were still there, so the chair might not have been working that day. Or we sat in the wrong one (they all look the same) or, more likely, The Wishing Chair is a load of crap.
Back in the van, we continued on. The views were stunning. So I was excited when Victoria announced we were going to take “a wee stop for pictures.”
A Brief Note On The Word “Wee.”
The word “wee” is used as often as some of us unfortunate Americans use the world “like.” It is everywhere. Right now we were at Dunluce Castle, and across from it was a place called “The Wee Cottage.”
Any short amount of time or any small amount of food or drink is a “wee” amount. At one point we were even allowed a wee wee break.
DUNLUCE CASTLE
Okay. Thanks for allowing me that. Our next stop was Dunluce Castle.
A few hundred years ago, the kitchen of this castle fell into the sea.
Dunluce castle was built by the McQuillen clan a long time ago. Then they lost it in battle to the MacDonald clan, who then lost it to the MacDonnell clan, who then went broke at the end of the 17th century—whereupon the castle fell into disrepair. (I got all of that from Wikipedia, so take it with a grain of salt.) The castle, ruined as it is, looks great today. It sits right at the edge of the sea; so close that a few hundred years ago the kitchen fell into it. It was late in the day and the castle was closed so we had to enjoy roaming the grounds and taking pictures of it.
The sun, far from done with us, but working its way into the distant horizon, we made our way to the town of Bushmills. Bushmills might seem familiar to you, as its the home of the Bushmills Whiskey Distillery. In fact, there’s not much else going on in the town. We got our bags and checked into our rooms. The bed, thankfully, was a true king, which meant it wouldn’t eat me in the middle of the night. Relieved, I went looking for a Guinness.
