Danaghadee, 2nd Time Around. Sunday 31st May 2009.

I wore my moisturiser with sunscreen today as Rob had said it was going to be warm for our visit to Donaghadee Harbour, we are being so spoiled with the weather this week. Today was the first time JR had seen the blue watered harbour with the lighthouse standing proudly at the sea-wall’s end. No-one was in a rush and we all strolled and snapped pictures happily, Rob found some retirees to chat to while John and I watched some brave young girls jump from the height of the harbour road into the water. The harbour was boarded by joined up houses painted bright colours of sunshine yellow and sea blue; perfect choices really. The water alternated between deep blue and tealy green, each no more beguiling than the last.

Mum, the honest box of dulse behind the bright red doors near the sea wall is still selling its dulse for 20p – have they not heard of inflation here in Donaghadee? Lilly bought a few little white bags filled with the dried, salty weed.

A conspicuous red and black, chopper handled, three-wheeler motor bike arrived, and Stevie, its owner and creator, alights and climbs the sea wall to enjoy a bag of crisps and a drink. We get chatting and before long he is taking AJ and JR on a blat around Donaghadee. They were all pretty happy with themselves on their return. Stevie wouldn’t take a penny for his kindness; he was just thrilled to share his passion with admirers of his work.


We treated Lilly and Rob to a fish and chip lunch at The Captain’s Table. Bloody good fish and chips too, the cod, encased in a crisp and golden batter, fell apart into large flakes. Unfortunately the dining room was closed as sets were being finished for the shooting of the new Julie Walters movie, she would be in town the following day. With no dining room to sit in we sat by the waterfront paddling pool to eat. I could see Rob beginning to bake as the beads of sweat formed on his brow. He didn’t want to sit in the seats under the shade though so we sat in the sun with me giving Lilly a poke in the ribs (she had ordered a ‘poke’ of chips).

We explored the graveyard of the Church of Ireland and AJ found a headstone dating back to 1660 – WOW! The distant sound of a marching band drifted on the breeze and before long they were upon us as they marched down Moat Street, resplendent in their red uniforms, feet stepping in time to the beat of the big bass drum.


AJ, JR and I climbed up to The Moat overlooking the harbour that time forgot. Its pace seemed like that from years before, when families had time to spend together enjoying the simple pleasures of a day at the beach and a treat of an ice-cream licked from a cone. We headed to The Cabin where we enjoyed the same simple pleasures of a '99' ice-cream, and a quarter of caramel bon-bons and strawberry sherbets, poured from the lolly jar from high on the shelf, weighed to measure and taken away in white paper bags.


We made a quick stop at Cregagh Street where Dad grew up. AJ walked up the lane way where Dad and his school mate Brian played cricket together. Before heading home we pulled up outside Dunluce Avenue where Mum lived until her and Dad married, a quick snap outside the Ulsterville Uniting Church and we headed home.



Under the kitchen lights of Glencairn, it was clear Rob had taken on the distinct red glow of a lobster. We joked and laughed. Rob resisted joining in but managed a wee smile and to stop for a photo. Gosh I wish he had worn his sunscreen and sat in the shade at lunch time and I bet he did too. We wanted to wrap his arms and hands in red serviettes and have his lobster claws snapping while he spoke to Dad on Skype but he wouldn’t be in it, maybe tomorrow.

The Beautiful Antrim Coast. Saturday 30th May 2009.

Alan and Sandra had organised to take JR and I up the Antrim Coast, all the way to heaven. It could be heaven it is so beautiful, especially on a day like today with the sun shining. AJ was staying in Belfast to hang out with Peter and have a day without us oldies. Sarah and John took them go-karting and they had a ball. Junk food, computer games, an X-Box 360, fast karts and each other – they were in paradise, albeit a very different paradise to us.

We followed the Antrim Coast Road and its blue expanse with views to Scotland. Ballygally Castle sits overlooking the blue and was where Mum and Dad went for dinner-dances back in the day.


Alan detoured inland to Glenariff Forest; its floor was dewy and glistened as the sun reached it through the green forest canopy giving warmth to the ground where wild bluebells sprang. Waterfalls rushed to their destination into pools stained brown like Guinness, made so from the peat upstream. Alan pointed out clusters of shamrocks growing on the moist slopes which are surprisingly quite rare in this neck of the woods.

We lunched on steak and Guinness pie with peas and chips at the whitewashed McBrides Pub in the seaside village of Cushendun. The F.A. Cup was kicking off, so before long the dining room filled with beer swilling soccer fans. They all cheered in excitement when Everton scored in the first minute, the atmosphere was electric and it was great to experience the soccer culture of Northern Ireland.

Along a little more was Portaneevey. There was a caravan selling dulse (sea grass) and an uninterrupted view of the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge which we would attempt another day as Rob had offered to take us when we first told him we were planning to visit.



I had never been to Ballintoy Harbour and was glad Alan stopped here this time. We all licked home-made ice-cream while wandering along the water. Families played in the sand and canoes paddled in the water; it seemed everyone was out to enjoy the warm summer sunshine.

Further along the coast is Dunluce Castle, I remember reading about it last visit. Its kitchen fell down the sheer cliffs and into the sea.

We ventured no further than Benone Strand, an expanse of white sand beach you would not expect to find here. It is the norm to drive along the beach here, everyone was following suit. The sun was low in the sky as lovers walked hand in hand along the rippling shore.

We stopped in to meet Sandra’s brother Mark and his wife Roberta, they were just gorgeous. AJ and Peter arrived with Sarah and John, not surprisingly AJ was not filled with joy to see us knowing his day without the oldies would soon come to a close. Luckily for him Sandra asked if he could stay the night and she would drop him back home in the morning. We all stopped for a late night kebab and ate with Lilly around the Glencairn kitchen table and shared stories of our day with her.

Love you Alan and Sandra and thank you both for a day we will never forget. See you in Oz!

Places Close to My Heart. Friday 29th May 2009.

We left the house at Glencairn about midday and the first stop was the church on the hill at Magheragall. Distant ancestors of mine are buried here along with the ashes of my Gran and Bo Bo. I was about AJ’s age when Bo Bo died; he was a man who would -choose to spend time with kids rather than adults. I have perfect memories of Bo Bo and I will never forget him. Gran passed while John and I were on our honey-moon; Julie broke the news to us on our return.
The last time I was at Magheragall was with Mum and Dad in 2002 so the place was familiar and I knew exactly where to go to see the Whaley grave, today it was covered in tiny white daisies and was pretty as a picture. I found a ladybug and AJ and I let it crawl over us, I love the simple things in life.

Nearby was Kilkorig Road, a special road in my family’s history. On it stands a wee whitewashed cottage, the very cottage where my Gran was born. Across the road is the much larger ‘big house’ where her family moved to and she grew up.

A little along is a house which hides the laneway leading to the farmhouse where Mum lived with her Grandparents during the war. I didn’t know if it would still be standing, as the last time I saw it was six years ago it was crumbling away.

The owners of the house concealing the laneway that leads to the cottage remembered me knocking on their door all those years ago. They were happy to allow us to tramp through the fields that lead to the farmhouse. AJ led the way, through white wildflowers at waiste height and the occasional muddy patch which everyone but JR found their way into. Lilly came off the worst and we all laughed. It was special to have Lilly with us today (Rob preferred to stay in the car which was a shame) as she had spent time with Mum here when they were kids, the farmhouse holds happy memories for so many people in our family.





At the back of the field the farmhouse came into view, it was dappled in sunlight, silent and serene. The owners had begun to rebuild the back; they must be going to use it for feed or to house livestock in the winter. The bones were still there though. I was able to show AJ where his Great, Great, Grandmother boiled the big pots of water on the fireplace in the lounge-room and the bedroom where his Grandma slept. JR snapped photos to record this heartfelt memory forever.

We got back to the car, Rob was beetroot red with the heat, he had sat in the car in the middle of this sunny day the silly sausage and I must say he seemed a little cranky – I wish he had have come with us as we strolled laughing through the cool grass and explored the stone farmhouse, its walls thick with memories.

Rob drove into the charming little village of Moira where we had lunch. We ambled along until Rob got chatting to a local in his animated way. He recommended The Four Trees Pub where they serve a pretty decent meal; mine was a rib-eye with Bushmill’s cream sauce, and thinly shredded tobacco onions. We ordered a few extras to share – risotto of wild mushrooms and deep fried brie with a sweet raspberry coulis.

Rob had been raving about McCartney’s of Moira, a famous award winning sausage maker. Lilly bought the stash of Toulouse, beef and garlic, and chorizos to be enjoyed one night back at Glencairn. George, the owner was cheerfully serving his super sausages behind the counter along with a huge team of happy helpers; his sausages were walking out the door.

Moira’s main street bustled with shoppers out to enjoy the summer sunshine. The green grocer displayed seasonal marrows, tomatoes and plumbs in an old fashioned cart outside his door. Life seems pretty good in Moira.

After a few wrong turns we found the house at The Maze where Mum and Dad first met. Dad’s family bought the house off Mum’s family and when Dad walked in the front door for the first time, Mum was sitting in the lounge by the fire – this is where it all began. The lovely owner showed us through the old house, his new home now blocks its view from the road. He was a lovely man, a dog trainer, and he proudly tells us he has even trained dogs for Her Majesty The Queen. Sure enough, hanging on the wall is a photo of him, chest puffed out with pride, beside a smiling Queen Elizabeth, her hair secured with a scarf tied under her chin.

Lilly was tired so it was time to tootle home and call it a day.

Belfast Bound. Thursday 28th May 2009.

After vacuuming, cleaning and washing the sheets and towels (I think we left the little cottage on the bay cleaner than when we arrived), we said goodbye and began our drive back to Belfast and Lilly and Rob. We detoured via the uninspiring Enniskillen and were soon on our way to Belfast. It was so nice to be back home. Even Alex commented that it was lovely to be in a place where you felt like you could touch things without getting sick.

Sarah and John came over to visit, it was the first time I had seen Sarah this trip, the last time I saw her she was only 14, she has grown up so much.

Beautiful Burren. Wednesday 27th May 2009.

We were slow this morning, the rain outside didn’t inspire us to get up and at it. When we did get our bums into gear we headed north, through Ennistymon, where we stopped and watched the cascading Cullenaugh River which was the colour of dark Guinness. We had driven up here today just for AJ. Michael, the owner of our little cottage by the bay, had told us of a corkscrew road that we would love. It was pretty short but it snaked back and forth with tight hairpins, I let AJ sit in the front for a while which he loved. Ballyvaughan had the most gorgeous tourist centre I had ever seen, selling clothes, gifts etc. The rain fell and we sought refuge inside The Soda Parlour. We ate crepes, mine filled with apple cinnamon and almonds.

We hit the tourist trail for a while and found the Poulnabrone Tomb dated from 3000BC – WOW! It stood on a mound in the heart of the rocky Burren region. The landscape of rock warn in patterns by the wind was eery, mist clung to the landscape and thickened as the day became long.


It was just after 5pm when we arrived at the Burren Smokehouse, we only had time for a quick look around as they had just shut which was a shame. They smoke local fish and have a great reputation in this part of the world.


We searched for a few castles in the region. We drove way too far in search of the first one and back and forth in search of the second but were rewarded in the end with a nice view of Newtown Castle before heading to nearby Lisdoonvarna for a tasty beef and Guinness stew served with a generous mound of mash. Home again, home again, jiggety jig.

Dingle Peninsular. Tuesday 26th May 2009.

We thought we would buy this morning’s fresh bread at Kilrush (we bought half a duck loaf and a soda scone which were both fresh out of the oven and still warm). This was the bakery of yesterday’s appalling service. Today I was served by a plump lady with silvery hair who made little contended noises as she wrapped my steaming bread in soft layers of white paper. She called me ‘pet’ and was a welcome sight compared to yesterday’s disaster.


We drove the car onto the Shannon Ferry again, drove it off at Tarbet and headed straight for the Dingle Peninsular. The skies flitted between grey and blue all day, one not wanting to yield to the other. The Connor Pass was the most breathtaking part of the peninsular as it cut through the almost bald mountains. The hedgerows of the narrow roads were covered in wild fuchsia in full, blushing red bloom, stalks of pale purple foxglove swayed in the breeze and bumble bees dove deep inside their bell shaped flower seeking their sweet nectar. Fields lit up with sunshine yellow daffodils and wild orchids bloomed; Mother Nature had cast a glorious spell over our little part of the world.

We left the township of Dingle to explore last, we wandered around for an hour separately for a change. We met up again at Dick Mack’s famous pub. It is all original and has not been restored inside at all. The charismatic Oliver tends the bar and presses the flesh of newcomers to his historic establishment. Guinness inspired stories are thrown around the bar, stories of the Black and Tans arriving for a pint in the days when Oliver’s Grandfather pulled the beer. One of them was twirling his pistol and demanding free beer when it went off; the bullet hole can be seen to this day. We stopped at Murphy’s Ice Cream parlour for a lick, sooper doper service and sooper dooper ice cream too.

Kilkee and Kilrush. Mondayy 25th May 2009.

We had planned to explore Kilkee and Kilrush this morning but both towns were quiet and uninspiring. Kilkee is pretty and its rows of townhouse style dwellings curve around the line of the bay. Their colours are soft pastels of mint green, powder blue, salmon and yellow. Although uninspiring today we can see past the deserted streets to what it would be like in a few weeks time when the summer trade begins. Kilrush on the other hand had an unmistakable feel; the people we did see were down in the mouth and dragging their feet. Was this a result of the recession we wondered? We had terrible service at a charming little family bakery who specialised in traditional Irish bread. The young girl was so rude that I said to her, “You are not part of the family are you?” She most certainly was not and I told her that if it was her own family business she would never treat it with the same lack of care as she had treated us with today. She shrugged her shoulders seeming not to care. JR got talking to a local in the street and asked about the bakery girl. “Oh, she is always rude”, she said. She told JR to look out for the owner’s blue van and have a chat to him. This we did, he was a lovely man and was accompanied by his elderly Mother. We shared our story and experience of the unique service we had received by his staff, his Mother was most interested and shared that she had never liked her. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall when next he saw her... I wonder what happened.

We dropped a few things back at the cottage and took a hot cup of coffee over the shore. We sat for hours skimming stones and throwing rocks into the blue water listening to the deep plopping sounds as they broke the surface. We used whatever we could find on the shore as a target for stone throwing competitions, it was fun.

Late in the afternoon we drove along the Castle Point Road on the Atlantic side of our tiny peninsular. This side is rugged and rough. The coast is lined with steep and dangerous cliffs and the green grass covers their tops and hosts clusters of purple flowers. We found fishermen at Dun Lickey Point; one was leaving soon after we arrived with a bag full of mackerel.

Dinner was at the local Indian, more out of necessity than choice; it was the only thing open in Kilkee other than a greasy spoon. It was wonderful, tasty and the meat was tender and juicy. What a pleasant surprise!