ANZAC Day 2024

There has been some minor criticism of my description of the Bushmills distillery tour. I was acting under the assumption that my readers were well versed in the art of making and drinking whiskey.

Anyway, the distillery, which claims to be the oldest licensed distillery in the world, was originally owned by Mr Phillips (two LL’s even). They operate five 40,000 litre copper pot stills and like that other Irish whiskey starting with a J, they triple distill to make a fine spirit. The barrels come from Spain (sherry) USA (bourbon) and Portugal (port) and are stored out in the open – rain, hail or shine and are lovingly attended to by two coopers - 4th generation father and son. The various whiskeys are a product of barrel choice and years they are asleep in said barrels, before bottling.

After touring the distillery from inwards goods, through the mashing of the barley, the fermentation in large stainless steel vats, the distillation room, bottling plant and popping out into the bar, we were offered a choice of one whiskey to sample. I chose the 12 year old, which is only available at the distillery. A very smooth whiskey indeed.

The 31 year old is hand bottled, labeled and packed and is sold for £3,000 a bottle. Apparently, some in China buy cases of it. Not sure how I’d get away with it.

No good news on the 21 year old Bushmills, “gone off” dilemma, raised by Andrew and Chris. They simply said, “What?”

So, to today, ANZAC day, we dove to Portrush and caught a delightful, clean and super efficient NI Rail train to Derry-Londonderry. It  was cold 7C and overcast and we walked our 12,600 steps up and down the old town, into the Bogside and to the Bloody Sunday memorial and Museum.

On Sunday 30 January 1972, when the Major was dodging the draft and Flashy planning to go to Canada, certainly not joining the Paras, 14 people were shot dead by soldiers the British Parachute Regiment, at a road block in Derry’s Bogside. Yes. They really do call it Bogside. It is where all the Catholics lived on the boggy lower ground, as they were prevented from coming into the city, getting work and all sorts of persecution, they say.

The British government claimed that the soldiers faced a fusillade of shots and the crowd was all gunmen and bombmakers of the IRA. They were certainly all civilians. No evidence of shots from them and no Paras shot either.

At the museum, a lovely bloke, John Kelly, welcomed us and explained that all the shooting took place just outside the current site of the Museum and his brother was one of those killed. Ever sensitive, Flashy said, ‘So where were you then?”  “Right there,” he says “I carried my brother’s body away.”

The museum was very well done, with lots of bits and pieces and 1970’s photos. It wasn’t the greatest fashion or hair style period, for sure. And have you ever seen a rubber bullet? My goodness, they'd kill a Hereford bull.

Moving on then. The official inquiry a month after, by the British Chief Justice Widgery, upheld the claim of bombers and gunmen and apportioned no blame on any soldier.

In 2010 a second Bloody Sunday Inquiry, made up of very senior judges from UK, Australia, Canada and NZ found the opposite. The 14 killed were proclaimed innocent civilians. The British PM at that time, David Cameron, made an apology in the House of Commons. The families had some closure. A single soldier. “Soldier F” was charged with multiple counts of murder and attempted murder. You can bet he wasn’t an officer. Not even a Warrant Officer or NCO, I bet. However, the Government has discontinued the case and is not pursuing any other retrospective cases.

A good point that there is not much to believe from either side about “The Troubles.”

We then found ‘The Badger’ a nice pub for a pint and a toasted sandwich, before catching the train back to Portrush. The plan was to have multiple gins at a fancy gin bar and some snacks so we didn’t need dinner as we are eating the fridge out for the next week because it is all paid BnB and hotels – so no cooking. Well, the bloody place was packed. No room at the inn as they say.

A rather sterile pub/restaurant next door gave us one gin and we then drove back home to finish our last of the gin and for Flashy to have some more of his Bushmills. Cheese and vegemite crackers, left over half a wrap from lunch, smuggled out in Lady P’s bag and we’re just about done.

Republican memorial in Bogside

Museumdisplay

One of many WW1 statues around this part of the world. I'd hate to be Fritz in a trench when this Tommy came a knocking

Looking down to Bogside from the top of the old Derry town walls