The Day of Rope Bridges, Giants, Old Friends and Farewelling Northern Island

The wind of yesterday had thankfully  died down this morning, so as we packed we tried to calculate how many layers of clothing we needed to wear. The answer was, not as many as we thought. 

We were out the door before the appointed time of 8:15 and on the road to Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge, just down the road from Portballintrae. On arrival, the visitors centre was not yet open, so we drove down the road a short way to a good viewing point where we could clearly see the mainland, the Carrickarede island,  and the 100ft crevasse between the two, spanned by a mere rope bridge. 

When we arrived back, we had a ten minute chat from one of the National Trust guides who filled us in on the history of the rope bridge and the salmon fishers, as well as the other landmarks, some of which were visible and others that were vague shapes in the morning sea mist. 

Then we walked the kilometre out to the bridge, took some deep breaths and one by one, crossed over, trying not to think of the swirling water far below. 

Once across of course, we had to cross back again, so we took a brief stroll around the perimeter of the tiny island, passing the old fisherman’s cottage, before returning via the bridge. It wasn’t too terrifying, although I didn’t like the stomach lurching feeling the bridge gave when I reached the middle section. 

With everyone safely back, we piled into the car and left for the next attraction, that of The Giants Causeway. We were able to enter a little ahead of our booked time, so decided to buy some lunch and coffee to take with us as we walked the kilometre or so, listening to the descriptions provided on our listening devices as we walked down the long hill to the bottom. 

Once there, faced with the wonder of the formation and its size, we went our separate ways; Julie and Mark opting to continue walking around to the Organ Pipe formation and Wallsy and I staying to explore the causeway itself in more detail. 

We spent a pleasant couple of hours, enjoying sunshine and warmth as we explored and Wallsy tried to recall the information he had supposedly learnt at Uni in Crystalography.  

Our hunger satisfied and our heads filled with myths about giants, we left the Causeway, for our final Northern Ireland tourist spot; The Dark Hedges. 

This row of 150 ancient birch trees, with entwined limbs and twisted trunks planted by the owners of Gracehill House circa 1775, attracts many tourists who wander up the road, made famous as Kingsroad in Game of Thrones, taking in the eerie beauty of the trees. Our curiosity sated we drove toward Dublin where we begin the next stage of our adventure. 

After checking in at the Ashling Hotel in the late afternoon, Wallsy and Mark set off to return the hire car to the airport while Julie and I had a chance to refresh and rest. 

At 7:30 we met downstairs in the bistro to wait for the return of the men on the express bus from the airport, and to meet our friends David and Carolyn who had popped over to Dublin from Yorkshire. 

It took a while, but we eventually found David and Carolyn hiding in another corner of the same restaurant. Wallsy and Mark, who had been on quite the adventure, also eventually found their way back to us  and the evening passed with much talking, laughter and good food.