A Peace Divided: Giant's Causeway, Belfast

It was a crisp, clear morning in Dublin. The sun was just rising, outlining the stacks from the Guinness plant as we walked to the tram station by our hotel, allowing the morning air to slap the fogginess out of our heads. We were headed to Connolly Train station for our day tour to Northern Ireland. It's a bittersweet day because we're excited about visiting Northern Ireland, but sad that it's a day filled with lasts - our last tour, our last day in Ireland, and the last day of our trip. Our tram arrived just in time to re-focus our thoughts on the adventure that awaited us.

We arrived before our meeting time of 7:15am. Seeing there was not a yellow-jacket tour guide around, we sought out something that would aid us in our trip experience - coffee. Breakfast was not included at this hotel, so we were among the first in line when the train station cafe opened for business.

We eventually spied our yellow-jacket tour guide who happened to be the same one we had on the cliffs of moher tour, one of our more challenging tours. He looked through us as if he didn't recognize us and walked on, past the turn stiles and on towards the trains. Should we follow him? Is there another waiting area we're not aware of? He eventually came back and checked the group in, remembering us from before. He seemed more pleasant, his tone softer this time around.

Like little ducklings, we followed our yellow-jacket tour guide to the train where a car was reserved for us, noting our group was small. Apparently we were meeting up with a larger tour when we arrived in Belfast.

Rows of people, commuters, students, business men and women were in line waiting to board another train but there was no movement. We had not been allowed to board either. After a half-hour, we found out the train engine was dead. It's not a good sign when you see the engineer thumbing through the train manual.

After an hour delay, we were boarded onto a much smaller commuter train. This meant our first photo stop was cancelled so we could make up for lost time. It was a castle but we were assured it was nothing spectacular. If it's not worth seeing, than why is it on the tour?

The wild, green landscapes seemed to become tame as the British flag revealed itself in more and more places, a subtle announcement that we were now in Northern Ireland. We arrived in Belfast and met up with our local tour guide who would also be our driver. We missed the large bus we were to transfer to and had a small coach with just our group instead. We were so thankful!

The tour guide was a native of Belfast and spoke with a mix of a Scottish and Irish accent. Sandy and I loved it. The harsher Irish accents we had grown accustomed to had no "th" sound. Thank you was 'tank you', with was 'wit', and our favorite, Catholic cathedral was 'catlick cateedral'. Try using them in a sentence: "Tank you for being wit us in ta Catlick cateedral." He threatened to leave Sandy and I at the coast to appease the local fishermen. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he looked like he just might do it. We better keep on eye on this one.

Rain and hail accompanied us on our 50 minute drive to our first stop, the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge. When we arrived, blue sky and warm weather welcomed us to explore the rugged coastline, allowing us to not wear our coats and scarves for the first time on this trip. The color of the ocean mirrored the blue sky, the water glistening with each wave. The call of birds led us further down the path to the rope bridge where they seemed to be nesting amidst a rocky cliff full of wildflowers. After a full morning and a half of traveling, this was exactly what we needed.

The rope bridge connected to a rocky island, allowing up to eight people to cross in a single file line at one time. Sandy and I were each able to spend a little time alone on the bridge to really experience how dramatic it was with the waves crashing below, but don't look down!

Our hour flew by, finding ourselves on our way to the Giant's Causeway for lunch and exploring. The Giant's Causeway is known as the eighth wonder of the world due to its hexagonal basalt columns that look like steps varying in height from 1 foot on up. It is thought these odd formations were due to volcanic activity where molten lava crystallized when it came into contact with cold water. We were anxious to see this but our stomachs would not let us forget that it was now 2pm and we had barely eaten anything today.

While most of our tour went to explore the Causeway, Sandy and I went to the Causeway Hotel for lunch. There was only one thing that would satisfy this hunger and our ongoing culinary experimentation - a hamburger made with Irish beef. We had to compare Scotland and Ireland's beef. We're here to report while both far outweigh American beef, Scotland won this taste test hands down.

Our yellow-jacket tour guide led us to the Causeway entrance and encouraged us to take the coastal walk. "You're young. You can make it," he persisted. We only had one hour left to explore and had been debating whether to use the shuttle to save time, but since our tour guide seemed to think we could do it, we went for it. Besides, if we were late, he'd know where we were because he told us which way to go.

I don't think our tour guide took into consideration time for taking pictures. Remember the little escapade he led us on in Galway when leading us to our hotel? He's also a fast walker and our stomachs were stuffed. These realizations hit us when we reached the top of the path which overlooked the ocean and the Causeway, bringing the rest of the lengthy path into full view. We had a ways to go. Upon looking at the Causeway from a distance, it reminded me of a pre-historic Lego land worn by the ocean's relentless tide.

We picked up our pace, trying to snap photos and soak in the beauty at the same time while watching our footing along the cliff's edge. Making our way off the cliff and towards the foot of the Causeway, its grand mystique towered over us leaving us staring upward in awe. How was this created again? I've never seen anything like it in my life.

We used the columns as steps to lead us up to the main attraction, featuring thousands of grayish/ black columns, the ocean in the background. It was like being a kid on a playground as we let our feet lead us. Images of playing hopscotch and climbing on the jungle gym came into view while we tried not to step on cracks for fear of breaking our mother's back.

We had 15 minutes to spare which gave us enough time to catch the shuttle, taking us to the top. We joined what appeared to be an Asian tour group which filled up most of the shuttle. While the driver waited for stragglers, one gentleman began singing, encouraging the other members of the group to join in on the lively song. We didn't understand the words because they were in another language, but attempted to join them on the clapping parts. It was when the gentleman, their tour guide, started pointing at us that we got worried. What were they saying about us? We continued to smile and clap hoping for the best.

When the song was done and finale clapping ceased, the tour guide interpreted the song in English, which was a song about our smiles, fair skin, and apple cheeks. They were a tour group from Taiwan and were having a blast. We wished we had him for a tour guide although part of us was still shocked. We have never been serenaded by a Taiwanese tour group before. When they found out we were from California, they teasingly repeated the name, wondering why we'd leave such a beautiful place. An older Scottish gentleman piped up, "I always wondered where Californians came for holiday." I jokingly replied, "We don't have anything like the Giant's Causeway."

The shuttle guide told us stories of the mythical giant and his Granny who lived at the Causeway. Granny appeared to have a good time as good Irish Grannys do, staying out too late and drinking a wee too many whiskeys. When she'd come home in the early morning, she would cause such a ruckus waking the giant up. He was a family man and needed his sleep. He told Granny to keep it down, but being a stubborn, Irish Granny, she wouldn't so he turned her into stone.

We stared at the stone that looked like a hunched over Granny climbing a rock as we made our way to the top of the hill while graciously thanking our new Taiwanese friends for their kind offer to visit their country.

We made it back to the shuttle bus on time and began our trip back to Belfast, making a short photo stop at one of the many castles before we stopped at the Old Bushmill's Whiskey distillery. The smell of yeast, almost like fresh baked bread hung in the air as we walked into the visitor center where Sandy and I tasted one of their Irish Whiskeys. The warm feel left by the taste of whiskey was soon replaced with tension and sadness as we were introduced to Belfast and a peace divided.

It looked like a regular city as we began our drive through Belfast, passing apartment buildings, businesses, and churches but when our tour guide began to verbally lead us past these stone facades, we were able to see the city's wounds caused by religious and political war. Catholics vs. Protestants. Green vs. Orange. Thirty years of war that supposedly ended in 1998 with the Belfast Agreement. It's peace on paper but not in all hearts as is evident by sporadic violent outbursts and the towering wall that divides both communities known as the 'peace wall'.

We made our way through the Catholic quarters, on one side of the wall and into the Protestant quarter, passing electric gates that close every night at 7pm. Reminders of 'The Troubles' as the war is referred to are everywhere. Murals of war heroes looked down on us from the sides of houses; art as an expression of grief, anger, and desperation called to us at the base of the peace wall as we drove past, a wall constructed to intercept missiles; and a sniper's eyes and gun followed our every move from his mural across the way, painted in such a way to let people know they're always being watched.

A mixture of shock and deep sadness consumed me as we passed a man looking quite intently at us contrasted by young girls playing in a street nearby. This is not how it's supposed to be. Two religions with differences have at their core the same thing in common - Jesus, yet it seems Jesus has been made to be political, having to choose sides and colors.

Our tour guide said the city is trying to revamp its image, deal with the past so they can move on to a new future. Some of the war memorial murals are being painted over in exchange for funding from the government for neighborhood upkeep. A great deal of money is being put forth to market one of Belfast's good achievements - the making of the Titanic.

We drove by the ship yard where the Titanic was launched. On the way to it, new apartments that resemble the facade of the famous ship are being constructed. The city is trying to rebuild its image and hopes to be able to take down the peace wall. When our tour guide was asked if he thought it would happen, he paused and said no.

Rain joined us again as we headed back to the Belfast train station for our return journey to Dublin. We chatted with a couple on our tour from the US while we were waiting for our train. The husband is a retired police officer who used to work for the U.N. training police officers in war-torn areas. He made friends with a police officer from Northern Ireland who shed light on their struggles for equality. Their issues are not with race or gender like in the US, but with religion instead. They are now working to have a police force with a 50/50 split of Catholic and Protestant officers.

We boarded the train after trying to use of all of Sandy's remaining British pound money and reflected on today's experiences while we watched the sunset. The people we've met, the stories we've heard, and the sights we have seen have been truly a life-changing experience. The tears of my eyes express the sorrow my heart feels each time I think about the situation in Belfast. Whether the struggle is between race or religion, obesity or alcoholism, we all have our struggles that separate us. Sadly we forget what unites us, the 'umbrella etiquette' of life that has the power to cover our wrongs and transform our hearts - Love.

"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins." ~ I Peter 4:8

We arrived at Connolly Train station and reversed our morning's events, taking the tram back to the hotel where sleep was not on the agenda. We had a 3am taxi pick-up scheduled to take us to the airport for our 6am flight. We spent the rest of the night and morning filling out VAT (value added tax) forms to get tax money back on purchases made, repacking our luggage which by now was wearing thin on its magical expanding capabilities, and got take away chicken kabobs at 11:30pm.

The Dublin Airport was dead at 3:30am, making the challenge of finding where the VAT office was located more difficult since there were no attendants around to ask. With no sleep, we wandered the airport to keep us awake and came across a glorious sign as we entered the food court - Starbucks. It seemed to light up; the sound of a choir softly singing "Hallelujah" filled our ears. We raced over only to find a glass wall separated us from it. It was on the other side of security which we had already been through. Sandy offered to go back and throw a coffee over the security check point since we found out they don't allow us to bring liquids through, but we had another plan.

We began to think like Starbucks. They don't travel alone. There's got to be another one around here somewhere. This became our mission. We found the Starbucks twin in the last terminal we walked through, giving us a deep sense of satisfaction, as deep as it can be at 5am.

A toast was in order which usually is the case when holding any beverage. In this case, we raised our lattes not just to an amazing day, but to an amazing journey, commemorating another lifetime scavenger hunt item completed with the photos and stories to prove it.