The North West Coast

My dearly betrothed has just informed me that each night our total bill for a meal is 20% food and 80% booze. That average seems fine to me, as I am not the one holding up the 80%. What is concerning however is that I have just read the label of my favorite new tipple called Bullmer's Cider. It says on the back of the bottle that responsible consumers should only drink 2-3 units per day and that one pint bottle contains 2.6 units. Well this means I am fekked as I try to drink four pints a night meaning 9.2 units per day (or something like that). My consolation is that I do this at the end of each day while writing this blog, which explains the spelling and gramma!

Leaving Maghera this morning was exciting for me as we were heading to the Giants Causeway, which is sort of the Northern tip of Ireland. When you look through the photos, you will see I have photographed what looks like hexagonal shaped stone, and in fact they are perfectly shaped like this. Although some have 4 and 6 sides so it is all not entirely hexagonal.

I was mesmerized with these rocks and the foreshore in which they shrouded. A majestic, beautiful place that again as a tourist you are well informed of the regions place in history and heritage of the area. Travelling in the Audi is exceptional.  I have to say is a car that I love to drive and will really hate handing back to Hertz at the end of the trip. It is covered in mud and looks like we have been through the outback, and Marty has managed to cover the back seat in all our rubbish and surplus clothing claiming that this is protocol on a road trip.

We travelled mainly coast roads today, heading only inland at the end of our trip. From Maghera we travelled to

Coleraine

Port Stewart, which are the photos of the coastal town with, condensed houses and sea. It was my favorite coastal town today.

Port rush

Bushmills where we toured the famous Bushmills distillery. Located in the heart of the outstanding beauty of the Giants Causeway the “Old Bushmills Distillery” is truly a legend amoungst distilleries. It is the oldest licensed distillery in Ireland. As early as the 13^th Century, there is mention of Uisce Beatha- The Water Of Life in Gaelic- being made in the area around Bushmills and historic references to distilling at Bushmills can be tracked back to 1490. But it was in 1608 that the area was officially licensed to distill whisky.

Causeway head

Carrick Bridge which are the photos of the rope bridge

Looked over the Mull of Kintyre and the Isle of Man from Carrick Bridge. 

Bally Castle, another coastal town of exquisite coastal gorgeousness and

Lairne which was non descript and passable.

Turned inland through too Ballymena and home to Maghera where we spend our last night before heading to Belfast tomorrow.

Samuel Arrell

I love the fact that wherever you are in Ireland you can park your car on either side of the road no matter which direction you are travelling. Brilliant! This increases your parking options two fold, but also raises the likelihood of  having a head on crash as you pull out into oncoming traffic on the narrow streets.

I feel a distinct difference in the social atmosphere of Northern Ireland as compared to the South. I described it today as an “unnerving caution” in any conversations or social interactions that we have. I am not saying that this is a negative thing, but we have observed some quite dramatic differences between North and South. For example the layout of houses is very different, they are not built on the road front but rather have a small front lawn/garden. The roads have verges and the Audi stands out like dogs bollocks with the southern rego plates. All small things but it does feel and look like we have actually entered a different country.

However, the real news of the day is that we found Samuel Arrell, a second cousin of John Arrell (Marty’s father). The address that we were searching for was a little vague, and as Marty walked up Rocktown Road (a meandering country road about 2.5 kms long) from beginning to end, I took the Audi up a few side roads that were basically single lane’s with grass growing up the middle of them. We had difficulty tracking down any local farmers as it was early in the day and no one was home, and we were beginning to feel that the expedition was a bit futile.

I travelled up one lane and was about to turn around in a cow shed lay way when something told me I should just go over the small hill in front of me, which was shingle road with huge pot holes.

Over the brow of the hill I entered a driveway to turn around and around the corner walked a “John Arrell” (Martin’s Dad) lookalike pushing a wheelbarrow full of wood. I was god smacked, got out of the car and tried not to look like the IRA and explained who I was, and that we were looking for the Arrell farm. He looked at me with a gorgeous smile and said, “I’d be Sammy Arrell, and you have found it”. The Audi reversed out of the driveway with a handbrake slide to go and collect Marty who was valiantly still walking up Rocktown Road searching for his family.

Pulled up beside him and told him to get in the car and with another handbrake action we returned to Sam Arrell, where we have spent the day in the company of a charming man who has graciously given his day to us. I have written another document of the history that he gave us today, and will post this for those who are interested. I have about 8 pages of notes that I am trying to capture now into some sort of chronological order and anecdotally write. While this may not seem too difficult, you have to remember that it was an Irishman telling the story, which was a little like trying to follow Billy Connelly, and I say this with absolute respect!

Writing this is going to take a few days. But what a day it was today, wow, the Arrell connection can be seen from many dimensions. But for those of you that are interested, here is a little bit of information.

Samuel Arrell known as “Sammy” was born on April the 3^rd 1941. Married to Anne they have 3 children

1.     Karen Arrell, now Mrs. Glascow married to Mark Glascow.

2.     Colin Arrell married to Heather Arrell. Colin works as an engineering, electrical consultant to British Gas and was currently in Scotland at the time of our visit.

3.     Samuel David John Arrell, known as David Arrell who owns Northern Island Wedding cars, based at the old original homestead of the Arrell Family.

Quepress Cottage

39 Rocktown Road

Rocktown Castle Dawson

County London Derry.

             www.NorthernIslandWeddingcars.co.uk

David has never married but Sam is hopeful that one day he will. David inherits the family farm of 20 acres, plus a smaller farm of 10 acres where David is currently building a new home. The old site is where all the wedding cars are held and the old home has been transformed into a make shift office and small living quarters for David and the builders.

Eventually this original (but significantly modified) house will be removed. David is the 5^th generation Arrell to live on this property, and you can see the original part of the house in the photos.

David’s wedding car collection is incredible with approximately 16 cars from the old Daimlers, Bentley’s and Mercedes and he has just bought the franchise for the “Royale” which is the car I am sitting in waving to you. Essentially a new car put into the body of an old shape and a real hit for weddings these days. And at 8 weddings per week, I guess you need to respond to your customers.

All are in beautiful states of repair and all in full working order. It was incredibly impressive. Sam (David’s father) is also driver for the 8 weddings per week they do on average, and you can imagine Sam all dressed up in his Chauffer’s outfit, looking very dapper driving the brides to be to their wedding destinations.

Samuel has worked as an engineer in local hospitals in Antrim for the past 30 years. He has worked across 3 counties, in large hospitals including a Psychiatric institution called Holywell hospital in Antrim. Sam has been retired now for 5 years, as is his wife Anne who has been a schoolteacher for 30 years. They are a great family, and Martin is so happy to have met them, as I have been.

Suffice to say, we are knackered, and it’s off to the pub for me to unwind after a very exciting day for Martin. I have to call him Martin in Ireland.

Love to you all and I will look forward to giving you my next update from an exciting day planned for tomorrow. xxx

My spelling and Gramma aint the best I know.

Arohanui West Coast, we have loved it!

A long day of driving has bought us into Northern Ireland, which I thought might at least be sign posted, but to no avail. The first I knew that we were in Northern Ireland was when we went to buy coffee and needed pounds instead of Euros. The rain stopped this morning, which made our drive beautiful.

We have just settled in a lovely Hotel in Maghera in County Derry, where B and B’s are a scarcity leaving the lovely memories of our “mad” range of hosts in the Republic. What a crew they were, ranging from Basil Faulty to Hyacinth Bouquet, each with their own set of memories and each one very memorable.

Connell, our last host in Clifden was the postman, the deliver of confidential government documents, and on occasion’s money to the banks. Not too mention Basil Faulty at our B and B, which erupted this morning when he had more than 4 guests for breakfast. It was pandemonium, and he managed to set the kitchen on fire while out talking to us. He called on the help of his 13-year-old neighbor Janine who had obviously just stumbled out of bed and got all the orders mixed up which we thought was hilarious. However the American, and French couple looked like they had sucked very sour lemons and left.

We leave the west coast of the Republic with our pockets still full of Euros and our hearts full of laughter and fun for all the characters we have met. I feel kind of sad actually that this part of our journey has ended. The Irish people we have met on this leg of our journey, have remained authentic to their reputation, they are warm, friendly and gregarious people who despite the despair of their economy have a bounce in their step and a warm hand to shake.

The political and economic commentators report worse to come for this country, and forecast a severe impact that Greece’s debt will have on the EU. Granted, this influence will pan out as it is destined, but it is the attitude of the Irish, like the Kiwi’s, that will sustain the important qualities of life

I could live here in a flash, except for a few things. You realize the privileged life we have in New Zealand from many angles, and I mean this with sincere respect to our new Irish friend’s and family. Our families, our friends and doing the work we love are our highly regarded treasures.

So we left Clifden (and Connell) at 10.00am and travelled through Joyce County heading inland towards the East, up through Ballinrobe, Scarduan, Knock, Kilkelly, Tubbercurry and fanged the Audi up to Sligo. East again to Manorhamilton and crossed into Northern island at Garrison. Steadily climbing east around the Lower Lough Erne paying respects to our friends, family and colleagues in Christchurch, at the Tobernalt Holly Well (Photo of Marty lighting a candle). Up through Omagh and arriving here at Maghera at 6.00pm.

We are staying at Walsh’s Hotel in Maghera, and it is a lovely old Hotel that has just served us a great pub meal and an ongoing supply of booze. Tired from our long day driving we have decided to base ourselves at this Hotel for 3 days as it is in close proximity to the places we want to visit here. Namely looking up the one “William Arrell” we have found in the phone book. That’s pretty exciting don’t you think?

We hope you have enjoyed the photos of our West Coast Trip. We of course have thousands more but it is a case of using WI FI wisely as it is precious resource here, that cuts you off every 5 mins when down loading photo’s. I have been known to swear loudly when this happens and it just pisses me off, some hope you have been able to share some of our experience through the photos.

Love to you xxx

Another bloody castle, but I just love them!

As you know I am still grieving for Conne-Simon but I did manage to put this behind me and give the big middle finger to the pouring rain and headed out to Kylemore Abbey Castle.
And yes the Audi got some "air" on the way out and on the way back, I am proud to say.
The story of Kylemore- both Abby and castle is a truly remarkable one. The twists of fate which its occupants experienced from the moments of romance and happiness to sadness and courage have all combined to create a fascinating history spanning 150 years. Kylemore is home to a community of Nuns of the Benedictine Order who came here in 1920 after their Abby in Ypres, Belgium was destroyed in World War one. Settling in Kylemore, the Benedictine Community opened a world renowned boarding school for girls and began restoring the Abby, Gothic Church and Garden to their former glory.
It is a beautiful place, one in which I ventured on my own, in awe of its history and contribution to History.

Marty's fishing in the Atlantic Ocean.

These photos tell the story, so i will leave it to them. Funny thing though, while i was waiting for him to come in these two random dogs arrived and just hung out with me for an hour while i waited. They sat on my feet, they watched the ocean with me and seemed content to do this. A young man arrived with 3 large bins of crabs and just tipped them over the wharf as they had not sold that day. My God how I long for somewhere to cook these crabs. I tell ye, it has been an eventful animal day, and another epic part of this great adventure.

Conne-Simon and the Great Atlantic Fishing experience

Conne-Simon is quite possibly the most beautiful pony in the world. For those of you that know me, you will know that the dapple grey colour of a pony is my favorite, and his dapples were of aristocratic vintage, his mane as dark as charcoal and suffice to say we fell in love at first sight. He trotted up the fence with a keen eye and ears pricked and I was smitten. For 3000 Euro I can have him and I tell you, I was counting my pennies for this little dude. 14.2 Hands of sheer indulgence, and only 6 years old, and he made an instant connection with me.

So the rain is coming down with an atheist vengeance, fekking fekking rain! This large bosomed woman straight out of Thelwell comes out and announces that there “will be no public rides today”. Noooo I cry and hand on to his halter for grim death. Dear God, Mother Mary Mother of God, what have I done to deserve this. So I wont bore you to tears with this romantic travesty, you have to be a horsey person to fully appreciate the emotion of this saga. I had to leave him in Cleggy to his painful horse trekking life, when clearly he should be mine.

So I went shopping in Clifton and found a silversmith named Jonathan, who I sat with for 2 hours while he manufactured me a beautiful Connemara Pony silver ring, which I have called Conne-Simon. He also hand crafted a silver charm for my niece, so I spent the equivalent of a 6 hour pony ride on two pieces of jewelry which was the best money I have spent.

Meanwhile Him indoors is out fishing in the Atlantic and the pictures tell a thousand words. The rain did not abate out at sea and I was thrilled to see him return this evening, as the sea had been large, and blustery. I will let him tell you the fishing story.

Trying to regain my composure after loosing Conne-Simon and with my silver ring on my finger I managed to give the Audi some “air” over an excellent whoopty-doo on the way to Kylemore Abby (Castle) about 60kms from Cleggy where I left Marty fishing praying that he would come home safe.

Goodbye my Connemara Pony Conne-Simon, you will be forever engraved in my heart……and remember if you are not a horse person then you will simply not understand.

Dinner in Clifden

Irish Stew for me which was divine and local smoked salmon for Marty. Delicious.

And yes, we are getting very very fat!

Fekking Bloody Ciffs of Moher

Awaking in the very stylish and “proper” B and B owned by Pauline in Kilrush, having breakfast with some of the triathletes competing in Kilkee, well suffice to say we felt like sloths. Overwhelmed by Waterford crystal and royal Albert crockery we bid farewell to Pauline and headed north to Kilkee.

My brother Martyn would love the surfing village of Kilkee, it reminded me of Raglan and despite the fekking shyte weather today the village was small, inundated with dreadlocked surfers and had a great feel to it.

Not like the fekking hideous trip up to the Cliffs of Moher, and I just can’t say fekking enough. See the photos of me with a raincoat on looking “really happy”; well that is the fekking cliffs of Moher. Google this and watch the mammoth surf and the crazies that surf these waves, it is quite incredible.

What did make me smile however were the busloads of American tourists arriving in their bright yellow plastic covers being blown into bloody oblivion, trying to enjoy the experience, but clearly lagging in understanding why they were there at all. I had to find something to laugh at, because all and all it was a hideous experience.

Onto Kinvara where we had the best seafood chowder in the world and then to Galway. Pouring with rain and dank with mist made Galway a very gloomy city. We found a launderette and washed all our clothes and decided to leave Galway even though it was late, to travel to Clifden. BEST DECISION EVER. This place is quaint, authentic, welcoming and of course home to the Connemara ponies. Tomorrow Marty goes on his day fishing trip, and I go for my long awaited horse trek. We are here for 2 nights so I can go to the Connemara pony sales as well.

We have a fabulous B and B tonight with a spare room, so I can exile the snorer to snore his bloody head off tonight, before I wrap my hands around his gorgeous neck and apply untoward pressure. I love this man, no question, no question at all.

So Mum (or perhaps David and Anne) have you got space for a pure bred Connemara pony? How exciting to think that I am finally going to a real sales of these beautiful ponies. I look forward to telling you what prices they bring.

Off to the pub for another delectable meal and meeting the locals. By the way I have made a few Euro on beating the locals at pool over here, funny. I have become a bit of a legend. Love to you all.