The Events of Saturday, May 21, 2011   

            Our bedroom here in “The Quay” has a skylight. I love skylights. They usher natural light into windowless rooms, bringing a feeling of freshness and good cheer. As spring turns into summer, however, dawn marches right through the skylight into our bedroom and interrupts our deep sleep. On rainy days, raindrops explode on the skylight like firecrackers. I detest skylights.

            Since the bathing situation here was less than ideal, our morning routine went more quickly than usual. We dressed, ate breakfast, finished packing, and headed off by 9:30. It rained pretty steadily all day, so it was a good day to drive the five hours to our new lodging in Northern Ireland. The first hour we covered the same road as yesterday – but, my, how rain changes the Irish scenery! Yesterday the peat bogs were moist and quiet. Today, new ponds dotted the flatland, and angry brown rivers roared down the hillsides.

            Two of Rick Steves’ podcasts entertained us during our drive today. In both of them, he shared anecdotes and insights about the geography, history and culture of Northern Ireland. Today’s shows seemed largely aimed at dispelling listeners’ lingering fears about political unrest and terrorist attacks. Rick repeated many times and in many ways that Northern Ireland is a safe and wonderful travel destination. Things have changed, the violence is over, and tension at the border is gone. Indeed, our border crossing today was a non-event. It was only when I noticed the signs had changed from “kilometers per hour” to “miles per hour” that I knew we had crossed the border.

            The attentive (or even the casual but patient) blog reader will notice that we rely heavily on Rick Steves for advice. I made this choice about a year ago, when I borrowed about fifteen tour books from our library. I skimmed all of them and read several sections in depth. Travel book authors have different styles and different target audiences, I learned. Some are humorous, others are dry. The contents of some are encyclopedic, while other authors summarize. Some write for business travelers, others for students, and still others for retired folks. As I read, I made notes about the strengths and weaknesses of each series. I wanted a guide that would clearly highlight the best sites, even ranking sites in order of desirability; it would list details about hours and days of operation and prices; and it would include clear maps and directions. The Rick Steves travel guides easily won the contest. We have come to enjoy his style, while sometimes grimacing at his corny puns.

            One of today’s podcasts, though, had us all laughing aloud at a true story from Northern Ireland about a Catholic schoolgirl. The five-year-old was skipping rope to a chant that ended with the phrase “the Protestants have all the houses.” A priest heard these words and gently admonished her not to use this phrase in her play. Instead she must say, “Jesus was born in a stable.” A few days later, this same little girl was skipping rope to the words, “Jesus was born in a stable.” Hearing this, the priest affirmed her for her obedience and asked if she knew why Jesus was born in a stable. She answered, “Because the Protestants have all the houses.”

            We stopped for lunch near Sligo (Pam’s ancestral home) at Henry’s Bar and Restaurant. It was a large place, with both cafeteria-line lunch and table-service breakfast. Pam, Caitlin, and Abby chose from the lunch counter: battered cod, peas, potatoes, carrot purée, and potato-and-leek soup. Ben, Lindsey and I ordered the full Irish Fry Breakfast (same ingredients as our Irish Fry at the Riverbank House Hotel in Wexford). The food was good, and so was the chance to move around and stretch our sore legs. Taking advantage of the free WiFi, we brought our laptop into the restaurant, updated our website, and confirmed our reservations for Monday’s ferry to Scotland.

            Driving on, we stopped in Omagh for groceries, then continued on a few miles to find our new home, called “Derg View House.” The Derg (“dayrg”) is a river about a hundred yards away, down the hill. The View is pretty: green fields and hills. The House is huge and strange. Downstairs is a large kitchen, a large living room, a dining room seating six, a single bedroom (with full bath), and a utility room with washer, dryer, refrigerator, freezer and dishwasher. Upstairs are more bedrooms: Pam and I have a double with an extra twin and an attached bathroom; Abby gets the room with a four-poster canopy double bed; Ben gets a double with an extra twin and full bath; Caitlin and Lindsey have a room with a double bed (for Caitlin) and a futon double mattress (for Lindsey). As a bonus in her room, Abby enjoyed an elliptical exercise machine and a bathtub. Since it had no plumbing connections, Abby remarked that it must be a work of art, an example of Dadaism.

            Shortly after our arrival, Pam spearheaded the effort to wash three loads of laundry. After our greenish bathwater at The Quay, we enjoyed crystal clear clean, hot water in these baths and showers. Pam also enjoyed her first real hot bath in Europe.

            As we moved into our bedrooms upstairs, we heard a lot of noise coming from the house next door. Looking out, the girls noticed a gaggle of young women in bikinis smoking and drinking in a hot tub, despite the rain. To protect our innocence, the girls recommended that Ben and I not look at the happenings next door, but here is what they observed. Banners and posters decorated the glass walls of a sunroom, announcing, “Hen Party”. The party spilled out into the backyard lawn and patio, all of which were twenty yards from our house, so it was hard to miss such a spectacle. Also adorning the walls were fliers with a picture of a lady’s face and “I’m the Hen!” printed on them. Caitlin, our British-Yankee translator, informed us that a hen party is a bachelorette party, according to Rick Steves’ British-Yankee dictionary. Later, the “hen” and her friends all dressed up in bright, colorful, fluorescent pink, orange, yellow, and green tights, legwarmers, tutus, and insanely high heels. Luckily, during dinner, the party relocated.

            Since we had a big restaurant meal at midday, we had lunch for dinner: sliced mushrooms and zucchini with ranch dressing, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and oranges. For dessert, we had fruit shortcake biscuits (cookies with currants). Caitlin and I thought they were delicious, but the others were unimpressed. We cleaned up dinner and enjoyed an evening of peace and quiet.