Celebrating the 70's - A chronicle of time and temperature

26-28 April 2024

Friday 26^th

We are off to Cushendall today along the minor roads following the north-west coast of Northern Ireland, eventually making our way to Belfast in two days. It must be the 100^th time we have said ‘I don’t believe this is Ireland!’, as the weather is blue sky and warm, around 9c to 10c but toasty behind glass, say, in a pub for example.

A stop at Ballycastle is pleasant and a walk around produces a little store selling home made bread and some prosciutto and salami, which we will have as a picnic along the way.

While in Ballycastle, we spot a pub called the ANZAC and since it’s just gone ANZAC Day, well, we decided to do what a good ANZAC would and have a beer. Pub is closed! Nonetheless, the barman offered to show as around. The story goes that the previous owner fought with the Gloucester’s on Gallipoli and got separated from his battalion and ended up with the ANZAC’s for a while. In 1945, quite a while later, he renamed the pub ANZAC in honour of the ‘integrity, tenacity and bravery of the ANZAC’s.’ Mmm..,wonder what drugs he was on, although it was early days for the Australian troops, so probably not too much drinking, blueing, disrespecting officers and VD.

A very picturesque drive and a roadside stop for the picnic before descending into Cushendall, where we were to meet a work colleague of Lady P’s and her Irish husband. She particularly booked the same pub as them so we could have some great craic that night.

After a walk along the beach, we checked out the various dinner options. There were three. One, the Golf Club required driving. The other ‘Harry’s’ was highly awarded and the third, the pizza joint had very bad reviews. Not to worry, we will wait for the other two plus two kids and get a table for six somewhere.

We located the pub for the night. There were two of them, side by side, McMallans and McNaughtons. Feeling confident, we walked into Mc Mallans and ordered a beer and asked for the key. The barmaid sort of looked confused, checked the diary and said, “Just the one night, is it?” “Yes, we say, and there are others booked in as well, we’re catching up etc etc.” “Ah, I see, she says, Yes I have a booking in room three, but they are not here yet.” We get the key and check in and back down to the bar where a loud and somewhat pissed local storms in and proceeds to shout everyone (four others) at the bar a drink. He then turns around and “Jazzes, I didn’t see you there in the corner, here have a pint.” Just what Flashy didn’t need as it would have been his third and he was going on to whiskey, feeling a bit bloated as you do.

It's past 6.00 pm now and no sign of our friends. Ah, here they are. We quickly establish that there is no room at Harry’s, so we grab a table at the pizza joint. All good, except they are not licenced! What the..! in Ireland? Anyway, the food is OK.

Then, they head off to check in. Seems they are staying at McNaughtons. Catch you in the bar later we say.

Back in our room, lying on the bed contemplating the world, Flashy askes Lady P how come we’re not staying with them? Then, that sinking feeling when she checks the booking and discovers we are actually booked into McNaughtons next door.

A quick tidy of the room. “Have you used the toilet?” she asks. As if I’d say yes. Straighten the bed, grab the bags and scamper.

Indeed, we are expected next door. A much flasher room too and the same price. Flashy is sent back to McMullans with the room key to explain. No sign of the barmaid, who was a pleasant if not confused lass, but a new one, much sterner and world-wise. Flashy uses all reserves of charm, blaming the missus for the confusion. She checks the diary. ‘What name?” “Phillips.” “Mmm, I only have ‘two Americans’ listed in room two. “You’re not Americans are you!” “No way, love,” in my broadest Queensland brogue. “You haven’t used the room have you?” Oh dear, she’s wanting to charge me £90.” She gets the key. I pay nothing and we go next door.

Many Guinness and whiskies later, we say good night to all the mob and head to our room. No other adventures that night and we wake early to head across the road to the café. They will provide a cooked breakfast with the hotel voucher. Another only in Ireland day is complete.

Saturday 27^th

Another magnificent morning of sunshine as we head, still along the coast road, towards Belfast. This requires constant adjustment of the bloody GPS who insists on routing us on the major roads. Go figure! You spent weeks of frustration when the bloody thing insists on taking you on goat tracks when all you want is the motorway! As we approach Belfast we notice a localised storm over the city and when we get close the temperature drops to 4C and it snows. Yes, snow!

We arrive at our guesthouse in Belfast, very handily located near the Titanic exhibition and the CBD. We check in and take the local bus to town (could have walked but the snow, you see) where we find a pub for a pint and work out how to get to the Titanic Belfast exhibition. The friendly landlord of the Hercules Pub, himself an avid Camino walker, says it’s only a 15 minute walk, so off we go. Nearly 45 minutes later, we get there. Never trust a walker.

It was a very good exhibition, with audio and video and massive constructions of models, all housed in an architecturally stunning building. Two hours went fairly quickly. The resident researcher had established that back in town (via bus this time), we should find Kelly’s Pub. We did. It was packed to the 16^th century rafters with mainly the young things of Belfast. Some in very skimpy clothes. My, they must be cold.

The main bar was four deep at the bar and spying the only free seat along the wall, Lady P plops down and says “I’ll have a shandy please.” Sitting next to us was Bob and Kathy from Houston, Texas. He was a sprightly 82 year old and we had a great chat as the masses came and went. As it was now dinner time, we headed off - with Bob and Kathy saying they might have to get Maccas for dinner. We of course, were heading to Bert’s Jazz Bar for a decent feed.

Another popular joint that was full. We did snaffle a seat in the bar area, where we could get a cocktail, some decent wine and what turned out to be pretty good bar snacks, including pulled beef sliders and a large, gooey baked Camembert.

A long but good day in Belfast.

Sunday 28^th

A slow start with a 10.15 am departure from our lovely guest house, down the motorway to Dublin. An uneventful return of the hire car to the airport and a slow bus to town to our hotel. The Harrington House is a cross between a hotel and a guest house and very well fitted out. Two doors down is the Inveagh Hotel with Elle’s Bistrot, where we had a couple of drinks and two beautiful and much desired fresh salads for a relaxed dinner.