An American in London

12 January, 1997
Dunluce Castle near Giant's Causeway in Northern Ireland

After coming home at 3am the night before, Andy and I slept in a bit but awoke to the lovely smells of his mother's cooking. She was preparing a huge lunch for us before we left exploring again. She made baked chicken with roasted potatoes and steamed carrots, brussel sprouts and cabbage, as well as mashed potatoes. I was well stuffed after that one! Our goal today was to go see the Giant's Causeway on the northern coast of NI. We made our way there, passing many lovely little seaside towns, which had we had the time, I would have loved to stop and see. About 3 miles from the Causeway though we discovered these ruins of Dunluce Castle. I could have explored there all day. There were caves underneath that they used to throw prisoner's bodies in. Dunluce was built right on the edge of a cliff, and much of it still stands. It has a rich history, and only costs about 2 pounds to get in (The hours are strange though so you should probably call ahead, although we managed to get lucky). We had to be back in Limavady by 6pm, so we hurried from Dunluce to the Causeway. So we drove up the coast about 3 miles and pulled into the visitor's area of the Giant's Causeway. Now, there's a legend about this place, and I'm sure to mangle it up but here goes. There was a Giant here and one in Scotland. This section of the coast used to be joined to a section of Scotland's coast, and one day the Irish Giant became angry with the Scot and went between the two countries, and stomped it down until the sea flowed in and divided them. Malarkey you say? Maybe. Maybe not. ANyway the visitor's center there gives a lovely retrospective of how they believe the unusual rock formations were formed, and they have a great gift shop. But to get to the coast, you must walk about a mile and a half, down a hill and then along some steep cliffs. The ocean is not more than 30 feet away from you and it is absolutely gorgeous. Once you round one of the bends, you will start to see the strange rocks. they are formed in the shapes of near perfect hexagons, about a foot wide. They're sort of, shoved up from the grouns and some are quite tall. It really is a site to behold. After much admiring (and much whinging about my sore feet) we strolled back to the car and made our way back to Limavady to catch the bus back to Belfast. I had a wonderful time, and I'd like to thank Andy's parents for making me feel so welcome.

13 January, 1997
Ah back in Belfast today. My time in this gorgeous country was drawing to a close and I was saddened. I hated the thought of getting on the plane and leaving Andy, and I knew it would be a long time before I could come back. Today Andy and I mainly wandered around the city some more. Down a little alley we saw some fireman holding one of those large rings like you see in cartoons, used to cacth someone from a burning building. There was all sorts of camera equipment and people shouting 'quiet on the set' etc. so we assumed it was a safety commercial or something. We watched that for awhile and then wandered some more. I had a closer look at Queens University, Andy showed me the grounds and the Botanics. Such beautiful things in a city where just down the road there are blackened cars from long ago bomb scares. The tensions were mounting again while I was there because the IRA had ended they're 2 year ceasefire, most likely due to the upcoming elections. in the time I've been back home, there have been multiple bomb threats all over England, one interrupted the Grand Nationals seen by millions, and another one causing the worst traffic problems in London's history. It really is tragic to me, all that hatred and stupidity. I don't pretend to understand it. I can only look at it and think what a waste it is. There's so much beauty and history in Belfast. In the UK for that matter. It seems like such a tragic waste to me to destroy it. But that's me waxing poetic again and not discussing my trip, but being there it has made an impact on me and I've come to care deeply about what happens there.

14 January, 1997
Today Andy and I wandered a bit, but mostly we just spent time together, chatting, having tea, I tried a pot noodles today (a university staple apparently) and it was quite good. We watched the telly some more and cuddled a lot. I made my final arrangements for getting to the airport early in the morning. And I cried a lot.

15 January, 1997
I hate airports. You're either happy there or incredibly sad. And it seems like I'm mostly sad there :( After a harrowing taxi ride at 5am through thicker-than-San Francisco-fog, and a checkpoint we made it to the airport. We were a little early so we sat in the cafe and drank a cup of tea together. Andy and I didn't say much. Just the occasional sad look. He walked me as far as the security check, but he couldn't go beyond that. Saying goodbye has to be one of the hardest things people have to go through. I cried so much, and clutched him tightly, not ever wanting to let go. It was very emotional. Finally we parted and he walked away, slowly. We both turned around and the same time for that final wave, and I lost it again. I sobbed as I was frisked. I must have looked funny but I was beyond caring. not a great journal entry this, but oh well. It was sad. I boarded the plane and stared out at the country that felt like home to me. I know I'll be back.