Ireland: Day Eleven and Twelve, Glenariff and Glenarm and Bleh

Day Eleven: Glenariff State Forest and Glenarm Gardens

Tuesday was like two days.  Or one very long day.  I don’t know which.

Anyway, it started on a very high note.  At the recommendation of the b&b owner, I headed to one of the glens for a good long hike.  I figured there would be some magic there.  It was a lovely drive along the coast in a southeasterly direction.  I passed a few views I thought I should like to revisit later, as well as Ballycastle proper in which I had yet to spend any time.  It is a beach town of sorts.  As beach town as you can get in Northern Ireland.  Everyone in this area continuously apologizes for the weather.  I wonder if their expectation is that I’m a fussy American.  But, no, I love soft rainy cool days.  I miss them when I’m stuck in a gross humid New England summer.

Anyway, there are a lot of beaches in the Ballycastle area.  And like I said, you can see Scotland when the sky is clear.  Not a lot of bathing suits, but a good place to walk.  A good place to sit and enjoy the waves.

But that morning wasn’t about the beach.  I was interested in the forest.  I found my way to the state park.  It was raining slightly when I got out of the car, but I didn’t mind.  It was soft enough and under the cover of trees not too noticeable.  There were a few options for trails.  I decided to descend down the path that would lead me to waterfalls.

It was a breathtaking walk.  It took a while to get to a waterfall, though I could hear the water running.  That said the green and moss and shamrocks everywhere were delightful to my observation.  And all along, I could see the rise of green hills in the distance.

The path turned and then I saw the maze of bridges and wooden railings that led me across the river and along the river and in front of the waterfall.  It was an impressive structure.  For a good part of it, I had it to myself and could take my time walking down the steps and taking it all in.  There was a scene there of some story.  The last story… but I’m still figuring that out.  The sound of the water running.  The green.  The darkness of the water.  It was some fantastic imagery.

I walked over and through the waterfall trail.  Then there was a fork.  I started walking up the black trail which was more challenging terrain, but then I felt my stomach rumble and thought I should retreat and go the shorter distance back to the start and the tea house.  I think the tougher terrain was actually the shorter distance.  But it afforded more views - especially of those green peaks in the distance.  I stopped to take pictures of the foxgloves that grew in the wild and other curious blooms, including a laurel bush and a stretch of bamboo.  I definitely earned the white chocolate raspberry scone I decided to have with my tea.  

I was pretty tired from my walk, but I still had an afternoon left.  The sun was coming out, so I opted to go check out the Glenarm Gardens, signs for which I had seen the last two days.  It was a 20 minute drive, but pretty.  I was feeling good about my driving.  A little slow for the drivers who passed me, but I was getting used to everything…

The gardens were all right.  Colorful.  They were at Glenarm Castle, which is still a privately owned estate.  Sometimes you can take a tour of the castle grounds, but that wasn’t a possibility.  There was also a bustling tea house, with which the staff seemed to be preoccupied as I bought my ticket.  I did walk about the gardens, but felt as though it wasn’t exactly worth the five pounds of admission.  I did appreciate the vegetable garden, though, where I saw an artichoke plant and a potato plant.  I saw signs for potato farms all over the place and have to admit that I wasn’t exactly sure what the plant looked like.  There was also a fountain and a curious mound you can climb to look over the whole garden.  It was pretty, but not an occupation of more than a half hour.

I decided to stop at the ocean and take a look out to Scotland.  I pulled into a lot but then a bus full of touring seniors showed up, so I decided to get back on the road and find another place to stop and breathe in the ocean air.

I saw a lot with a playground.  I took a turn and realized I hit something.  I didn’t know how - I didn’t see anything.  I barely felt it because I wasn’t going very fast.  In the spite of that I managed to completely wreck the front passenger side of the car. It was all very surreal.  I couldn’t believe it happened because I simply did not see the iron pole that held up a height restriction to keep trucks (and buses) out of the lot.  It looked too flimsy to do anything, but there was the bumper and panel all on the parking lot.

Ugh.  I don’t really want to remember this.  I will probably never forget it.  It was the moment where my vacation separates to a before and after.  Mostly I felt stupid.  SO stupid.  I didn’t hit another car or a person.  I didn’t do anyone any harm.  It was a really dumb and thoughtless mistake.  But I wasn’t going to be dumb and thoughtless and try to drive the car.

So I called the rental company.  Budget.  Just in case this story will discourage you from ever using them.  I certainly never will again.  I understand their policy that they revoke your driving privileges after an accident (even though there was no investigation as to fault or cause or what the car looks like).  I don’t understand their complete lack of cooperation in providing transportation to get one back to where one needs to go.  

I was left at a bus station.  A bus station that was closed.  I tried the door but ended up encountering a bus driver whom I probably rattled by my tears.  He ended up giving me a free ride into Belfast, where I could catch a train back north so I could take a taxi back to the b&b.  I was amused by the chance to observe how they drive those buses in Ireland, making such sharp turns so close to the curb and speeding down the road.  I felt badly because he had a thick accent and I didn’t always understand his words of kindness, but I very much appreciated his help.

I also had a good conversation with the cab driver.  The weather was one topic, but he once lived in Canada so he understood my argument that compared to our winters, this summer is okay.  He also asked me why I came to Northern Ireland.  I’ve had a few inquiries like that.  Some of that is small talk.  I think some of it is still a readjustment to their new reality.  Why am I not intimidated by the not so distant history?  Am I a Game of Thrones fan?  Not really, but the Dark Hedges were cool.  The driver was pleased by the recent news that United is going to start flying into Belfast again.  Golf is also a big deal to Americans.  And whiskey.  In fact, he encountered a bunch of Americans recently who went back and forth from the distillery to the golf club.

I got to my room and cried.  Of course I did.  I felt totally and completely drained.

I chose to not do much with my Wednesday.  The staff at the b&b checked in on me because I slept through breakfast.  They were so kind and gracious and helped me to get a taxi to get back to Belfast.  But I needed a day to just check out and purge my system of the no good very bad feeling of the end of my Tuesday.