Fishermen and Giants and Sheep

Supposedly, there are 1.8 million people living in Ireland. Additionally, there are 2.2 million sheep in Ireland. I'm fairly certain that I saw all 2.2 million of them during my time in Northern Ireland.

Guess what the dockyard was like in Belfast? That's right... Industrial. I guess that's a thing in Ireland. Pro tip: if you're sailing into Belfast, book an excursion before the cruise. Here's why: the cruise line excursions are exponentially more expensive than private tours booked through TripAdvisor or ViaTour. Additionally, if you don't do it before you arrive at the port, you're going to have a hard time getting one once you get there. With that said, we arrived in Belfast and hopped on our tour bus. Our very Irish tour guide had a heavy accent and a killer beard. He gave us a ton of historical background as we drove through the Ireland I had always imagined. Green hills dotted with ancient castles, multitudes of sheep, and quaint little towns. Honestly, I only absorbed a small fraction of the loads of information that Martin, our tour guide, shared. But I do remember what he said about our first stop. Once upon a time, on the coast of Ireland, salmon fishing was a thriving industry. The island depended on the industry as a main food source. The land available for fishing, however, was owned by individuals that required a high percentage of profits from the fishermen. Eventually, the fishermen condluded that they could fish from a nearby, unowned island and avoid paying a landowner. The island, Carick-a-rede, was not large, and it was less than 100 feet from the mainland coast. The problem is that the mainland coast, and the coast of Carick-a-rede, were cliffsides. So, like all men, the fishermen built stuff with as little minimal resources as possible; a modern duck-tape and zip-tie creation, if you will. They built a bridge with thin rope and rickety wood boards 70 feet above the crashing waves between these two land masses. The bridge, now reinforced and open to tourists, is located at the end of a long paved trail, complete with hundreds of stone steps. The walk was physically and emotionally tasking. The bridge crossing was exciting but high enough to inspire most to consider the sincerity of their relationships with Christ. The view from the island... Incredible. The dark grey cliffsides were covered in white sea birds and grass patches and were covered in a vibrant green blanket. We took lots of photos (as always) and proceeded on our merry way.

We continued down the coastline and, gosh, it was stunning. I wish I had more pictures to show you of the sheep and the coast and the various sights we passed, but, unfortunately, the non-English-speaking Asian man next to me closed the curtain on the bus window... Not sure what the purpose was, but I hope he enjoyed his tour experience.

Our next stop was the Giant's Causeway. I can give you a brief overview of the legend of this place, which is slightly less factual, but please excuse my butchering. But first, some important details: a causeway is an "underwater road." This particular "underwater road" consists of innumerable hexagonal interlocking basalt columns extending from the coast of Ireland, under the ocean, to the coast of Scotland. They are believed to have been pushed up by three volcanic eruptions. So, the story goes like this: there was a giant in Ireland named Finn MacCool who hated a Scottish giant named Benandonner. They hurled insults across the ocean at each other for a long time before Benandonner finally decided to put an end to it in person. So he built the causeway and marched across it to confront Finn. When Finn's wife, Oonagh, hears of Benandonner's plans, she warns Finn and tells him to hide in the baby cradle, as there is no way he can defeat so big a foe. When Benandonner arrives and asks Oonagh where Finn is, she tells him that Finn has gone out. Benandonner asks who is in the cradle and Oonagh tells him it is Finn's child. When Benandonner sees how big "Finn's child" is, he freaks out at the thought of what the father must be like and flees. Thus, the Giant's Causeway. It was a cool experience. The rocks were crazy slippery and I almost broke my collarbone once or twice, but that's not really new. My favorite places in the world include slippery rocks that I like to climb on because I like to flirt with death.

Back in the city of Belfast, I learned more about Ireland's troubles than I really would have liked. The city is hopelessly divided over political and religious matters, literally with a wall, and it broke my heart. Our tour guide, who was not happy that the company makes him tour there, said, "If you were in Berlin during the height of their unrest, they wouldn't treat the wall like an attraction. I don't know why they make us do this." The divided sides have bombed and murdered each other often over the last 20 years up until fairly recently. As we drove alongside the graffiti laden "peace wall" our guide said ,"I often have visitors ask me, 'what is the answer?' and we really just don't know anymore if there even is an answer." My heart sank. I wish I had a picture of the wall to show you but I couldn't lift a camera to that symbol of brokenness. I'm ever so grateful to be a child of the Prince of Peace and to live in a community that believes him to be such. Nevertheless, Belfast has made its way into my heart. As has Ireland, as a whole. It makes a lot more sense to me now why my cousin, Jennifer, is raising funds to support her full time mission work in Ireland. And to think I never would have known. I guess that's kind of what expeditions are for.

And with that, I have concluded my time in Ireland and Northern Ireland. P.S. Missing home. Thanks for hanging out with me. From: The Expeditioner