The Castle

[Captain Halliday]

Giant's Causeway

As the variable weather turned gloomy we arrived at our next stop, Giant’s Causeway.



I was deeply sceptical.

How exciting can rocks possibly be?

But I’ll concede it was remarkable.

It’s about a ten-minute walk from the visitor centre down to the rocks.



Not surprisingly the place was crawling with tourists.



Our visit at low tide allowed us to see, and walk on, some of the darker stones that are usually under water.





The ability of the interlocking stones to withstand the elements is phenomenal.



A couple of pro-tips.

While it’s free to visit the causeway, the same can’t be said of the carpark.

That'll cost you GPB10.

Alternatively, entry fee to the visitor centre (Adults GBP13.50 | Child GBP 6.75) includes parking.

Mrs H and I skipped the visitor centre but buying access for Miss H was cheaper than paying for parking alone.

The second tip we stumbled on by accident.

The visitor centre does that annoying data collection thing asking where you’re from.

On the day of our visit the actual question asked was, “where have you come from?”

Naturally I responded “Belfast”, at which point a further 10% local discount was applied.

So, for almost half price parking make sure your child from Belfast gets a ticket to the visitor centre.



Viewed from the rocks, the path back to the visitor centre and car park looks relatively flat.

But allow 20 minutes for the return walk.

After the road turns behind the hill, it becomes rather steep.



Highly recommended.

 

[ellen10]

The day we went to The Giants Causeway, was a wild windy, rainy day. But we enjoyed our visit immensly and enjoyed a hot toddy at the Causeway hotel.

So do you research each days explorations the night before or weeks ahead? You get good value out of the places you visit.

 

[Captain Halliday]

The day we went to The Giants Causeway, was a wild windy, rainy day. But we enjoyed our visit immensly and enjoyed a hot toddy at the Causeway hotel.

So do you research each days explorations the night before or weeks ahead? You get good value out of the places you visit.

Generally weeks, or more, in advance.

Usually works like this:

I make a list of things the family might like to see/do/stay/eat and email the list to Mrs H and Miss H for review.

Mrs H goes hard on TripAdvisor. Generally rules more out than in.

Miss H takes a more simple approach, googling each option and making a judgement based on the photos.

If they reply by the deadline, their preference go into the plans.

If not, I pick and choose.

 

[ellen10]

Sounds like a great method @Captain Halliday I love a good holiday activity preparation!

I have really been enjoying following along, thanks for sharing.

 

[kookaburra75]

Generally weeks, or more, in advance.

Usually works like this:

I make a list of things the family might like to see/do/stay/eat and email the list to Mrs H and Miss H for review.

Mrs H goes hard on TripAdvisor. Generally rules more out than in.

Miss H takes a more simple approach, googling each option and making a judgement based on the photos.

If they reply by the deadline, their preference go into the plans.

If not, I pick and choose.

You are a very brave man - but I suspect there may be a bit of flexibility applied once the journey begins (?)

 

[Captain Halliday]

You are a very brave man - but I suspect there may be a bit of flexibility applied once the journey begins (?)

Of course.

The deadline part might have sounded more draconian than it really is. It's just about not missing opportunities.

As AFFers know, deals come and go, booking windows open and close.

Wait too long and you might not get your preferred tour time, or have to pay more for a hotel etc.

 

[Captain Halliday]

Ropey Logic

About 15 minutes East of Giant’s Causeway is the Carrick-a-Rede Rope bridge.

By the time we made the short drive, Ireland’s unpredictable weather had changed.

With sunshine and turquoise water, you could have been forgiven for thinking it was a tropical island.



Before I’d even parked the car Mrs H had ruled out crossing the bridge.

At the ticket booth I learned tickets can only be booked online in limited numbers due to space constraints.

The helpful attendant asked how many tickets we need.

“Just two, there’s no way my wife will cross”.

He looked at his computer and said, “I can see there’s a few slots available in 15 minutes. Use the kiosk wifi, bring the e-tickets back here and I’ll swap them for paper tickets.”

I made the short walk back to the kiosk and gave Mrs H one more chance.

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

“How high?” She asked.

“Can’t be more than a few metres.”

In truth it was closer to 35 metres.

Just swaying weathered rope between you and the Atlantic Ocean below.

She wasn’t budging.

“No, you two go. I’ll wait here.”

Returning to the ticket booth I showed the helpful staffer my QR code.

“Why doesn’t your wife want to go?” he asked, handing me our two tickets.

“Afraid of heights.” I replied.

He half-nodded as though he’d heard it all before.

“Here’s an extra ticket. Take her on the coastal walk with you. At the bridge, she’ll feel guilty you bought her a ticket and will have to cross.”

His logic was about as ropey as the bridge we were about to cross.

The big challenge would be luring Mrs H out of her comfort zone.

 

[Captain Halliday]

Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge

After an 800 metre walk along the cliffs taking in view of the Atlantic, we arrived at bridge.



Waiting for our turn to cross we took in the coastal views and watched a sea lion splashing about in the crystal-clear water below.



It performed the occasional backflip and twisted about in the water as though playing tug-o-war with an invisible rival.

Watching the sealine thrash about was like watching the anxiety raging inside Mrs H.

She wanted to cross the rope bridge, to take in the view and to prove a point.

But fear is a powerful enemy, and she was deep in battle.

With Miss H urging her, on and some mild bullying from the staff member supervising the bridge, she drew in a deep breath.

I detected a feint tremble as she mumbled “Okay I’ll do it.” and stepped tentatively forward.

The bridge was less rope and more plank than I’d expected.



When Miss H tried to make the bridge sway, Mrs H was not impressed.

Her knuckles went white as she clung to the rope with all her strength.

Her knees were already wobbling more than jelly in an earthquake.

But she made it across and was rewarded with views back along the coast towards the east.



The bridge was first erected by salmon fishermen in 1755.

Suspended almost 35 metres above rocky shoreline, the bridge provides access to the rocky island of Carrick-a-Rede.



Catches of up to 300 salmon a day were common until the 1960s.

But sea-based fishing and river pollution led to a decline in salmon numbers.

In what turned out to be the final season in 2002, they only caught just 250 fish in total.

The only trace of this treacherous method of salmon fishing is the remains of the fishermen’s hut.



We spent about 30 minutes on the island, just long enough for circulation to return to Mrs H’s fingers.

The second crossing didn’t take any encouragement.

The only thing Mrs H feared more than crossing the bridge, was being left behind on the island.

 

[Captain Halliday]

Detour to disappointment

On the drive back to Belfast, we took a short detour down a series of narrow and unsigned roads.

It was lush Irish countryside where every paddock looked just like the next.

We were looking for a clump of trees.

TripAdvisor calls it a “must see when visiting Northern Ireland” and promises this:



It might better be described as: “An underwhelming waste of time.”

Because what it really looks like is…



Before this trip, I’d never hear of The Dark Hedges.

Nor had I watched Game of Thrones which shot some scenes here.

To make matters worse there were two major inaccuracies.

First, when walking along the road it wasn’t even close to dark.

I’ve travelled roads New Zealand, Tasmania and North Queensland where the canopy made it so dark you needed headlights in the midday sun.

Second, these are Beech trees:



Fully grown beach trees.

In no way do they resemble a hedge.

Perhaps in the foggy twilight they might have an eerie mystery that makes for stunning photographs.

But for the other 23 and a half hours a day – give it a miss.

 

[Captain Halliday]

Belfast Castle

After the disappointment of the Dark Hedges, I’d hoped our next planned stop might be more inspiring.

On the north-western outskirts of Belfast we made our way up a narrow and winding road lined with large fancy houses.

At the end of the road we passed through large iron gates that marked the entry to Belfast Castle



The grounds of the garden were immaculate and included sculptures, water features and a wide variety of flowers.



Inside the rooms were expansive with high ornate ceilings and chandeliers.

Most of the cavernous rooms were empty.

But a few had trestle tables and plastic chairs that wouldn’t have been out of place at a Bunnings BBQ or school fete.

You see, Belfast Castle has long been abandoned by Royalty.

It barely passes as a historic landmarks.

These days it’s a wedding venue and function centre.



So if the building itself, or the gardens are of interest, this would be a worthwhile visit.

But if you’re after a glimpse into the history of Irish royalty, you won’t find it here.

 

[Captain Halliday]

SS Nomadic

After two duds, I was hoping our next stop didn’t make the hat-trick.

We headed back to the Titanic precinct to see SS Nomadic.



It sits in dry dock outside Titanic Museum.

Unlike her mother ship, you can board and walk around Nomadic.

As you might expect it’s an extension of the Titanic Museum.

On board you can view some of the plans for Titanic.

It was amazing to see that even in 1912 they had a “smoke room” (promenade deck, lower left of plan)




After Titanic’s sinking, Nomadic had an interesting history, including in both World Wars.




Many of the rooms and features are closed or roped off to protect them.

But perhaps showing the museum’s curator has a sense of humour, the First Class Bathrooms are open and in use.






Has there ever been a better name for a plumber?

 

[Captain Halliday]

Castlewellen Peace Maze

Our last full day on this trip involved the drive back to Dublin and an overnight stay before our flights home.

On the main route from Belfast to Dublin it was only a short detour to the Castlewellen Peace Maze.



Entry to the maze and surrounding parklands is free, but parking costs EUR5.

The sign at the entrance claimed most visitors could reach the centre of the circular maze in less than 30 minutes.

On our first attempt, the family mostly stayed together.

Miss H would run ahead to investigate the way.

I’d mostly keep up.

Then we looked back to check on Mrs H and see this.



So we'd have to back-track to locate her.

Frankly, she was slowing us down and didn’t understand the importance of beating the clock!

We hit plenty of dead ends, but eventually reached the centre in just under 19 minutes.

The victory podium has views to the surrounding Irish countryside.



Miss H decided a second attempt was required to improve her time.

She set off over the bridge that allows a direct exit from the centre of the maze.

Rock-paper-scissors was used to determine which parent would get a second fitness session.

It was a crushing defeat for Mrs H not only because she chose scissors, but also because directions and navigation are not her strengths.

The trouble began as soon as they reentered the maze.

 

[Captain Halliday]

The other left

From the viewpoint at the centre, I watched the family enter the maze and Mrs H direct them to the right.

This was despite our successful first attempt where we'd entered and turned left.

I started my watch confident 19 minutes would not be challenged.

The hapless pair zigzagged their way from one dead end to the next.

They backtracked multiple times.



At one stage they almost completed a full lap of outer rig without even attempting to reach the centre.

Twice, the cheating child attempted to crawl under the hedges.

But with Mrs H refusing to do the same, the plan was thwarted.

As the clock ticked past 30 minutes, I began giving Mrs H subtle hand gestures to try to speed things up.

But when I signalled left, Mrs H turned right.

If I signalled right, she turned left.

I could see rain on the horizon and pointed this out as Mrs H passed under the bridge.

The urgency she lacked on the first attempt suddenly appeared.

After hitting several more dead ends, urgency increased to panic.

As they passed under the bridge for the tenth time, I tried to calm her down, but it didn’t work.

“Don’t worry, there’s still 16 hours until our flight home. Plenty of time.”

Suddenly she wanted to beat the clock.

She scowled at me and shouted, “Get me out of here.”

This prompted other families on the bridge to start calling out instructions and trying to help.

But it only made things worse.

“Take the third left.” One person shouted.

I knew what would happen.

Mrs H successfully counted three possible paths and promptly turned right.

They were now 40 minutes into their adventure and Miss H was laughing her head off.

So were the other spectators on the bridge.

Mrs H was not.

They battled it out for another four minutes before finally reaching the final bend that led them to the centre of the maze and the bridge to freedom.

I’d highly recommend Castlewellan Peace Maze, except to the geographically challenged.

 

[Captain Halliday]

Go Around

We spent our final night in Ireland in an unremarkable place not far from the airport.

Check-in at Dublin airport the next morning was straight forward, but for the second time I failed to notice our FF numbers had dropped from the booking.

So Costly. (IYKYK)

BA’s business class passengers have access to the Dublin Airport Executive Lounge.

I can’t share photos because the lounge was so crowded every photo was an extreme close-up of another passenger.

Our ride to London was another A319.

To reach it the aircraft, BA offered a free self-guided tour of the apron.






In some ways, this was much like a Qantas domestic flight.

There was a long queue in the priority lane.

And most passengers had more bags than limbs.

For instance, the woman just ahead of us had five bags and a neck pillow.



Once on board, she dumped two of her bags above our seats in row one, before continuing down the aisle.

I almost said something to her.

It was lucky I didn’t.

It turned out she was seated next to Mrs H from London to Sydney, and behind me from Sydney to Brisbane!

Her bag tricks were spotted by a crew member who then offered to store our bags in the forward locker.

After that, the flight was routine on the short sector to London.

Or at least, routine until we were abeam the BA Concorde at the end of Heathrow's RWY27L.

The engines spooled up and we were pushed back into our seats for my first go-around in more than a decade.

After a few minutes of bonus London sightseeing we landed and taxied to the gate.

 

[Captain Halliday]

BA F Lounge #2

Our second visit to the British Airways First Class Lounge on this trip went much like the first.

The staff member scanned our boarding pass and directed us to the business lounge.

The penny still didn’t drop that our FF numbers were no longer attached to the booking.

Handing over my actual frequent flyer card and I was allowed to enter with Miss H.

Mrs H went upstairs to the J lounge.

A la carte was still not operating so it was back to the buffet.

The options were bland in both appearance and taste.

Plus, the heat lamps had dried everything out.



After lunch we went in search of a seat and discovered that a first-class lounge doesn’t always mean first-class etiquette.



We found available seats on the terrace, where we used the table for our drinks rather than our feet.







After about an hour we reluctantly downgrading ourselves to sit with Mrs H.

 

[Captain Halliday]

London to Singapore

Our flight to Singapore was delayed.

First by 15 minutes.

Then by an hour.

As the delay passed the two-hour mark, I began to contemplate the possibility that EU261 might help repair the damage done to my credit card over the past five weeks.

But it wasn’t to be as we eventually departed about 2.5 hours late.

For this flight we were on a 787.

It was in the old Club World configuration with rear facing seats.

Revolutionary when introduced the day the Wright Brothers retired, they’re set out in a 2-3-2 configuration.

Mrs H and Miss H both insisted they face forwards.

This meant I was in 7A, with 20 hours to become acquainted with the bulkhead.

Many AFFers will have experienced these seats first-hand.

Much has been written about them.

Most of it negative.



It might surprise you that I have something positive to say about them: they’re better than the seats in economy.

Before this flight, I never thought I’d see a more ridiculous sequence in a safety video than Qantas’ “Double Shot maaate” coffee scene.

Yet somehow BA managed it with a man on his phone.

You know, the phone that’s supposed to be switched to flight mode.

He’s apparently talking to his mother.



Wedged into my coffin like seat, and with the bulkhead not interested in conversation, it pondered the meal choices.

There were no bananas, so my options were limited to:



I chose the beef cheeks.

Cheeks.

Plural.

The meal arrived with just a single cheek.

I considered mentioning it to the flight attendant but decided that would be cheeky.

Still, it was a remarkable coincidence that on a single flight both my meal, and my seat width, would have 50% missing.

The food was average for business class and not good enough to warrant the effort of getting my phone out for a photo.

But if I thought being denied a beef cheek was bad, worse was to come when we arrived in Singapore.

 

[Captain Halliday]

Access denied #2

The flight from London to Singapore was routine and we arrived about 2 hours late.

It was my first visit to Singapore since the QF first lounge opened.

With our layover reduced to just 60 minutes, I was pleased our gate was nearby.

We scurried to the lounge and presented our boarding passes only to be denied entry and directed to the business lounge.

Slightly confused I asked why and was told it was because we were in Business Class.

It was then that the penny dropped that our Frequent Flyer details were not on the boarding passes.

Luckily, I had my physical FF card and even after producing it we were still denied entry.

However, the excuse changed to “the lounge is full.”

Watching other passengers from our flight granted entry I was unimpressed and didn’t believe the excuses we’d been given.

Arguing wasn’t going to change the outcome.

Instead, I noted the staff member’s name for later feedback and we raced to the business lounge to exact revenge at being denied published benefits.

By the time we arrived I estimated we had just 20 minutes in which to eat and drink a month worth of Qantas’ EBIT.

Miss H stepped up to the challenge, loading up on the classic combination of hot chips and creme brûlée.

Mrs H was having none of it.

I fetched drinks from the bar.

No sooner had I put them down and Mrs H was on her feet getting twitchy.

Sadly, we managed just three servings of chips, two glasses of wine, a lemonade and three creme brûlées before Mrs H insisted it was time to go to gate.

Trying to get our money’s worth seemed like a great idea right up to the point we began the half-marathon back to the aircraft.

 

[Captain Halliday]

Singapore-Sydney

Back on board, the crème brûlée was still sloshing about in my stomach as I wedged myself back into the seat.

I wanted to sleep on the overnight sector, but brûlée belly, combined with my body clock being out of whack, made it unlikely.

I settled in to watch a movie and ordered the beef tenderloin.

Singular.



The wine list was about as inspiring as the prospect of going back to work.



I ordered the Cotes du Rhone and set low expectations.

My expectations were met.

The crew on this sector were friendly, engaging, and slow.

I was almost finished the movie before the meal arrived.

The beef was good, but I passed on dessert hoping for some sleep.

I wasn’t successful.

The combination of an uncomfortable seat, some turbulence and the lingering crème brûlée meant I was awake for most of the way to Sydney.

I ordered breakfast not out of hunger, but more to pass the time.



As the cabin was being prepared for landing, we had one final look at just how far past their use-by date these seats really are.

Miss H couldn’t raise her seat.

I tried to help, but it wouldn’t budge.

In the end it took three crew members to fix.

One on the buttons.

One pulling up on the head rest.

And the third trying to push the footrest down.

Apparently, this was the third seat on this flight that required a three-person fix.

 

[Captain Halliday]

Going home

When we landed in Sydney it had been more than 24 hours since our departure from Dublin.

We were tired and just wanted to get home.

When we reached the domestic lounge we learned our final sector up to Brisbane was delayed by two hours.

It was in those two hours that I wrote the first post of this trip report.

How a five-week trip became 29-thousand words I’m not sure.

Thanks for sharing the journey.

I hope you enjoyed it as much as we did.

 

[BriarFlyer]

I hope you enjoyed it as much as we did.

I enjoyed every post. Thanks so much for taking us along on the (restrospective) 29,000 word journey, @Captain Halliday. It's been a LOL experience and of particular interest with our most recent "big" trip being to Switzerland and our next is to Ireland (in planning stages, Dark Hedges and Belfast Castle off the list.)