I didn’t have to think very long to come up with a title for this blog post, because the second part of our Belfast tour almost ended abruptly with us falling our deaths, into the Irish Sea. That’s right. Dead.
After the museum, and the chilling winds that we fought on our way back to the bus, the skies around us were gray but they started to clear, letting us see some patches of blue. Relief at last, we thought, climbing off the bus. All I have is to laugh, now looking back.
I have never felt rain so hard that it hurt. Until Northern Ireland. I don’t know how fast the winds were blowing, but what I will say is that we were the last group let across the popular Carrick A Rede Rope Bridge (aka the bridge of death). A little history about this bridge:
- It was built in 1755 by fishermen
- It was probably not intended to last hundreds of years, and have people walking over it
- The bridge leads to nowhere extraordinary, it’s just something to check off the books
- Peer pressure makes you do stupid things.
The good news is – we didn’t die, but we were completely soaked and freezing cold by the time we made it back to the tour bus.
Our last stop was at the Giant’s Causeway, which has a really awesome story, but which I didn’t go to a) I was freezing cold and soaking wet b) I know I’ll go back to N. Ireland, again c) I was freezing cold and wet. Instead, I ended up at the most beautiful hotel, and enjoyed one of the best Irish stews and brown bread that I’ve ever had. It was absolute heaven. Here are some of our pics, all of which were taken dangerously, with the potential for my camera (or me) falling into the sea. P.s. Don’t be fooled by the blue skies – it was FREEZING.