Saturday, October 26

Even though we had intended to get up around 7:30 or 8 am to get packed and help Alison and Maurice with the household packing, we didn’t actually get up until closer to 9 am. We are sleeping better and longer than ever before. Wonder what will happen when we get home.

After our own packing was done, we were able to help tidy the cottage by “hoovering” the floors, doing dishes, wiping down the counters, and carrying bags and boxes to the cars. Alison is an amazingly efficient packer and loads more into her car than seems possible … with room to spare. We were on the road before 10:30 am.

We would be taking a long way home along Northern Ireland’s Antrim coast. The scenery all along the way was beautiful, reminding me of the colors around Glenveagh—burnt oranges, dull yellows, and browns covering headlands that loomed over us before plunging into the sea.

We stopped at Downhill House, a mansion built in the late 18th century for Frederick, 4th Earl of Bristol and Lord Bishop of Derry. Much of the building was destroyed by fire in 1851 before being rebuilt in the 1870s. It fell into disrepair after the Second World War leaving an eerie shell of what must once have been a magnificent house (castle). Mussenden Temple, a small circular building located on the cliff next to the mansion, sits high above the Atlantic Ocean. It is said to have housed the bishop’s extensive library. Stone walls surround the entire property, which includes a walled garden, an ice house, and a dovecote.

The grassy path up to the temple led us along a field of cows lazily grazing on a steep hill that eventually plunges to a pristine beach below. Another sloped walkway leads to the mansion, where you can walk through the abandoned remains, with signs identifying the rooms. The views through the windows were like framed paintings of the exquisite scenery beyond. We then walked down the steep hill to Al’s Coffee, a wooden hut surrounded by benches and picnic tables, where we purchased coffees to warm us before getting back into the cars for our ride home to Holywood.

Before we unpacked the car, Alison insisted we sit for a cup of tea and a “wee bite.” While we were enjoying our hot tea as the heat came up in the living room, Maurice secretly unloaded the cars! There was nothing for us to do but head upstairs for a nap before our second dinner at the Golf Club across the street. We are once more settled into our home-away-from-home!

Dinner at the Golf Club was a delight. The staff are all so friendly and welcoming, and of course know Alison and Maurice well. Once again we had drinks in the lounge, where we ordered our dinner, then were brought to our table when our meals were nearly ready. It’s a nice system. I opted for steak with onions rings and sauteed mushrooms followed by a dessert of carrot cake trifle with orange custard and cream. Yum! Hey, I’m on vacation.

I enjoyed our dinner conversation, having quite a laugh about the differences in our “languages”—British/Irish English and American English. Bin lorry vs. garbage truck. Rubbish vs. garbage. French fries vs. chips. Grand vs. great. Lovely vs. nice or beautiful. Etc. We especially love, and are beginning to use “wee” ourselves. It is used for everything here. “Let’s stop in for a wee pint.” “Can you hand me that wee book?” “Do you see that wee man over there?” Etc. I feel our speech is so much less melodic than theirs. But Alison said she liked the cadence of American speech.

As we enjoyed our time together, I was cognizant of how soon it will come to an end. It’s hard to imagine easier people to be with. I only hope they feel the same way, especially as we have rather foisted ourselves upon them for two weeks!