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Carrick-A-Rede Rope Bridge

Back in April of this year, I took a beautiful day trip excursion to the Giant’s Causeway with my friend Jacqui and her long time friend, Liz. The northern coast of Eire is a different country (Northern Ireland is a part of the UK) and it took us about 3 hours to drive from here in Dublin up through Belfast before we hit the coast road.

Blue blue blue

While up in Northern Ireland, one of the places that we stopped was the National Trust site at Carrick-a-Rede. Now this place doesn’t sound too scary – Carrick is Irish for “Rock in the road”. That is, until I tell you that the place has had a rope suspension bridge of some form connecting the Irish “mainland” to the island of Carrick for some 250 years. Originally built for Salmon fisherman who caught salmon that went around the edge of the Carrick (not anymore as the salmon are gone) as they headed inland to spawn, the rope bridge has now been taken over by the National Trust and is now part of a national park.

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The rope bridge is there and now a tourist attraction. It spans 20 meters across from the mainland to the isle of Carrick, across two sheer cliff faces – to rocks and shallow sea some 30 meters (230 feet) below. Now for someone (me) with a fear of falling (me) it’s a beautiful view as you hike up along the cliff tops… and stand in line to cross the rope bridge, up to 6 at a time.

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The crossing itself, however, is completely different.
That's not a smile, that's a grimace...

You climb down a series of metal stairs and then line up to go across the bridge with thin planking and ropes holding together for your hands. The rope bridge bounces as people go across, and swings slightly in the wind. Yes, I crossed, but let me tell you, this is NOT a smile. This is a grimace, and I’m repeating to myself “don’t look down” “don’t look down” “don’t look down” so that I don’t freeze mid-bridge.

Once across, the island of Carrick isn’t very big. It’s maybe 200 meters long, but it affords some gorgeous views of the salt spray, the cliffs, and some birds and fauna that are specific to the island itself. It even inspired me to throw caution to the wind, enjoy some sun, watch the waves breaking through the island caves…

Island Cave tunnel 3

and hang my feet over the cliff edge….

Danger!!

Ok so not really. There’s a ledge under my feet, but I had you there for a minute, right?!?

And so, from me .. until the next blog…I stand at the edge of Europe, thinking of you folks “across the pond”.

The edge of Europe... and a cliff.

For more pictures from Carrick-a-rede, please see my flickr set here.

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The best thing about February…

isn’t Valentine’s Day. It is, however, related.
Around Christmas time, most people become obsessed with oranges – they give you an orange and the story of some little orphan who got the one orange and then shared it with her friends and how it was so tasty and so on about how it’s promoting health because of the vitamin C and yadda yadda. For me, this was always a nice story, but with so much other stuff going on, I didn’t really care or feel the way I do come February.
By February, I’m sick of winter. I’m tired of the rain, the wet, the short days and the long dark nights (even if they are getting shorter.) I’m tired of the cold. I’m tired of people being sick (and in most cases, me being ill too) and I’m ready for a change.
And then comes the week of Valentines. Laugh if you will, but Valentine’s is when you start seeing the cards, the roses, and the strawberries in the stores (all be it at a premium). Only they’re not quite ripe – and don’t catch your attention. However, if you give it a couple weeks, and keep your senses open, you’ll discover….
Fresh, Vine Ripened Strawberries….
priceless rubies of sweetness that burst into your mouth and remind you that yes, somewhere, there is sunshine. Somewhere, it is warm. Somewhere, the flowers have bloomed, the bees have buzzed, and a fruit has grown to be plucked and trucked directly to your tastebuds.
And that’s when I’m tempted. I walk past the display all year – until for 30 seconds, all I can smell are fresh warm strawberries. As the scent envelopes my body, these little gems call to me, through my nose, peaking my tastebuds and making me salivate in anticipation. It seems, at that moment, that I’m suddenly smelling summer vacation – and I have to pause, turn back, and look for the most ripe, fragrant container of perfect strawberries because no matter the cost, they will be mine – they must be mine. I crave them like the sky craves the moon, the plants need the rain or like a bird needs to fly.
Rarely do they make it all the way home. As I eat my precious red nuggets, each one bursting into my mouth with a juicy tart sweetness, it’s like they have a promise of summer, a promise of sunshine and warm days ahead, of feet in the sand and exotic trips to somewhere beyond.
Yeah, it’s the strawberries that do it to me everytime. They make me long for a new season, long for the warm damp earth they come out of, and take me – for just a moment – into the world beyond winter’s rainy gray cold into the vivid sun filled days.
It is for this reason, that I say, the best thing about February is Strawberries.
(PS. Happy Birthday, Angi – BFF – A&A, E&E, BATS, NMW!)
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