Ireland Hopping: Derry & Galway

Derry (or Londonderry) is another fascinating city, steeped in history. Like Belfast, it has seen its share of conflicts over the years, most of them motivated by religious differences and power struggles. Today there remain two distinct sides to Derry: the Loyalist side, with British flags and colours adorning the streets; and the Republican side which is decked out in the orange, green and white of Ireland. And again, the murals tell a powerful story:


The "Free Derry" wall was one Johnny could clearly remember from his childhood - in England in the Eighties, the evening news frequently began with footage of riots at this very spot.


While wandering around the city walls, we were lucky enough to tag onto the end of a tour group that was being led around by a Derry local. In true Irish tradition he told some terrifically entertaining yarns as we walked around the town. And at the end, he thanked everyone for helping grow tourism in Northern Ireland - it's true that it's definitely not on everyone's must-see list, but it is a very interesting place! Unfortunately, time was short, so we had to crack on to Galway - but not before taking in Slieve League, the highest cliffs in Europe:


After a truly exhausting drive (Irish roads are, as you might guess, neither quick nor direct), we rolled into Galway, and pretty much crashed for the night. The next day, we spent the morning in town:


Galway is famous for its buskers, and we were lucky enough to come across the best piano-playing busker we've ever heard, the guy was truly amazing. But before long, we yet again had to get going in order to reach our next (and final) destination - Dublin.

Toy Time: It's an OLD car!

Last week was the last time Bec had to drive to Cirencester - her company has closed their office there, and she now is based in Gloucester, which is about the same driving-time, but in a different direction. While it doesn't really make a big difference to her (it's still a big drive - usually about an hour each way), it was a big change for Johnny who previously had been able to get a lift with her most days, because Chippenham was pretty-much on the way.

So for the last few weeks Johnny has been scouring the local classifieds, notice-boards and of course eBay, for a suitably-priced runabout to take him the 12 miles to work each day. And by suitably-priced, we mean "as close to zero as possible"! Considering the car may only be needed for as little as 3 months, it just makes sense to pick the cheapest-to-own-and-run car possible.

And with just days left to the deadline, good-old-eBay came to Johnny's rescue. Some of you may know that he sold his Aussie car on eBay, well now karma is restored as, for the princely sum of 300 pounds, he is now the proud(ish) owner of this 1994 VW Golf CL:


1391cc of german muscle makes her super-economical to run and insure, but still surprisingly nippy. Mechanically she's flawless and she drives very well. But the great thing is she has just passed her MOT (the yearly roadworthiness test) so that's all clear for another year, and she has 6 months of road tax (rego) too. She's even got a Sony stereo!

Although she comes from the same country, she most definitely is the opposite of the stylish, sporty, beautiful Beatrice the Beemer - so she is known as Gertrude the Golf.
And because she's done just about all the depreciation she can do, we'll probably get almost every pound back when it's time to sell her again - on eBay of course!

Ireland Hopping: Northern Ireland

For the Easter long weekend (yes I know we're waaaaay behind in our blogging!) we made the very short trip across the Irish sea to the land of the leprechauns. A new country for both of us, there was heaps we wanted to see so we really covered a lot of ground - quite literally - over the four days.

Arriving at Dublin airport, we picked up our Fiat Punto (or as Johnny called it, our Feeble Italian Attempt at Transportation) and headed north. Our ultimate destination was The Giant's Causeway, a popular spot on the northern coastline with mysterious, unique rock formations, but our first stop along the way was Belfast. It was quite interesting to note the differences as we moved from Southern to Northern Ireland; the road signs became entirely English, losing any trace of the Gaelic translations, and the speed limits switched from kilometers to miles which was rather confusing - especially since our little Fiat showed only miles on its speedo.

Belfast is an interesting place, showing clear signs of the "Troubles" it has endured over the years. In particular the west part of Belfast, with its series of impressive murals depicting the conflicts, was quite an eye-opener. You really did get a sense though that they've turned the corner, and are now focussed on rebuilding the city into a place people will want to visit for positive reasons.
The Giant's Causeway was, as expected, a highlight of our trip. Not only is it one of the most fascinating natural phenomena we've seen, we also had a perfect, sunny day in which to enjoy it.

The Giant's Boot (apparently left behind by the Giant who built the Causeway):

Seagull's-eye view of the Causeway:

Soyderrr!

One of the many things we're enjoying about living in the West Country is discovering its many hidden charms; quiet villages, tranquil lifestyle and of course Cider. As the preferred alcoholic beverage of many a Somerset, Devon and Cornwall resident, there are a myriad of local variants, mostly with silly names, and sometimes not even falling under the Cider umbrella (the version made from pears is called Perry). So when we found out about the Bath Cider Festival, an opportunity to taste over 60 of the region's finest, we just had to be there.

Upon arrival we surveyed our "tasting notes" and decided on our first tipple. Johnny, going purely by name, selected Dragon's Blood, which was widely agreed to be the most disgusting vinegar ever put in a barrel. His selections barely improved all night. Bec's friend Kath was over again from Kent, so we had a fun night of tasting and exchanging notes on the various fine (and foul) concoctions coming back from the bar.


As the effects of the cider started to really kick in, the band started up. The Mangled Wurzels are actually a cover band, playing the songs of the (slightly) better-known Scrumpy and Western band The Wurzels, who had a huge (UK number one!) hit with a song called Combine Harvester. The songs are all a celebration of West Country life - the rural lifestyle, farming equipment, and Soyderrr!!! (to use the correct local pronunciation!)


The songs alternated between hilarious and hilariously bad, but most people had had sufficient fermented-apple goodness to not care, with riotous singing accompanying the catchier choruses. One song in particular inspired Johnny so much he had to croon a rendition into his mobile.



Such is the power of the Soyder!

Bradford-on-Avon

Hey all,
Again, it's been far too long since the last post, but we've been busy, and we'll be blogging it all shortly - honest! We've been having some incredible weather recently and have been trying to make the most of it. We had heard good things about Bradford-on-Avon, a small town just up the river Avon from Bath, so we went for a look.


Bradford is like Bath - honey-coloured sandstone buildings and a nice river setting - in a condensed package. We liked it a lot. But then again, with the weather we're having, just about anywhere would look pretty!

Someone in the newspapers described it as the prettiest English Spring in living memory. And we won't argue!

One last Greek adventure...

Our sense of feeling slightly underwhelmed by Mykonos continued the next day, as we woke to find torrential rain streaming down the street outside the hotel. The place isn't exactly set up for wet weather, including our hotel whose outdoor eating area was completely under water... So after a quick, cramped breakfast in the tiny hotel lobby with the other 6 guests waiting their turn, we made a hasty exit and headed for the marina.

It wasn't until we were on the ferry heading back to Athens that we made a final disastrous discovery - Bec's passport, which had been kept as security by the overly friendly, slightly off-putting hotel owner, was still sitting in a drawer back at the hotel!!! In all the confusion over breakfast, it had been completely forgotten. After initial panic at the thought that we'd be stranded in Athens (we were due to fly out the next morning), we tracked down the hotel's phone number and were assured a little too casually that all would be fine. The passport would be on the late ferry to Athens that day, no problems.

Confusion over the exact name and company of the ferry did little to reduce Bec's apprehension, and we spent a less than relaxed day in the capital before collecting the elusive passport with minimal drama at the port that evening. Crisis averted. And we even managed to squeeze in that long-awaited visit to the Acropolis:

Island Hopping: Mykonos

We finally dragged ourselves away from fabulous Santorini to Mykonos, another famous Greek isle. We hopped off the ferry having not booked and wandered semi-randomly around the maze-like town, trying to find the hotel recommended in our Rough Guide. We never did, as we were intercepted by a very friendly (if a little used-car salesman-like) Aussie/Greek hotel-owner who gave us a good deal on a room in his family hotel. Jonathan was a Sydneysider who had a successful clothing business in Australia before returning to the family business, running the Hotel Zorzis. We won't be reviewing our stay here, TripAdvisor does a great job of that, but suffice to say that our stay seemed to reflect our opinion of Mykonos being a slightly-inferior version of Santorini!


After a late lunch spent people-watching and soaking up the sun near the marina, we ventured back into the maze of the whitewashed stony alleyways. Again we were amused to see the locals frantically re-painting the walls and even touching-up the white paint on the pavements, to make sure they were ready for the tourist masses about to arrive for the High Season.
Perhaps it was because we'd "done" all the touristy shops in Santorini, but Mykonos didn't really grab us as a shopping destination, despite the brochure describing it as a retail paradise. I don't know why you'd come all the way to Mykonos to pay twice the going rate for a Swiss watch! And, aside from a row of 5 traditional windmills (which may well have been assembled last week from fibreglass for all we know ;-) there was a distinct lack of traditional local culture in evidence.


It certainly wasn't a bad place though! We watched the sun go down from "Little Venice" over a couple of drinks, and enjoyed some yummy Greek desserts before finally turning in. We could both get very used to being island-hoppers!