A Trip to the Shamrock

Dear Readers,

When we left the sunny weather of Barcelona, we were in for a rude awakening. We landed in driving rain with cold and wind. It was it the fifties. Luckily I had brought my winter coat, hat, and gloves for the occasion. It's always like this in Northern Ireland, even in August. Every one hates the weather!

We walked off the plane in Belfast. There wasn't much in the way of security or emigration. I find that most of the European countries feel security and stopping terrorists in an American problem despite the fact that England has been hit more times than us with terrorist acts. And Northern Ireland, well, their terrorists are home grown. Their worst enemies are themselves. They don't import trouble. They make it.

What do I mean by that? The last time I was in Northern Ireland, I was nearly arrested by the British police for stupidly leaving a book bag in the lobby while a maid was cleaning my room. All the local hotels had been bombed for conducting Catholic weddings. The one we were staying at was the only one left. Why bomb Catholic weddings? Well, it goes back 1000 years when some one in England thought it would be a good idea to get rid of those pesky Irish and pesky Scotch-Irish by resettling Northern Ireland with Scotch-Irish settlers. In order to do that, the English threw the Irish off the land, made it illegal to speak Gaelic, and severely oppressed the Catholics. So the Scotch-Irish got the good stuff and the Irish got the potato famine. It wasn't until after WWI that Ireland was freed from British rule. Northern Ireland never wanted to be free. They wanted to remain part of England. The Irish want it back and they were willing to fight for it. That's when the fighting, bombing, killing began. Catholic versus Protestant. This went on for twenty years. The last time I was there, barricades were up in Londonderry and I couldn't tour the city. I was excited that now times had changed and I could explore the city to my heart's delight.

Gone were the British police and the barbwire stations. If you call the city Londonderry, then you want the area to remain British. If you call the city Derry, you are an advocate of returning the land to Ireland. Alot of people have the sign "You are entering Derry" in the window which shows which side they are on. They did take a vote a while back and the majority voted to stay with England so that was that. Britain would like to give it back to the Irish because the majority of the people are on British welfare and unemployed. But the people won't have it.

Koch (Invista) is one of the biggest employers in the area. We were picked up by a private driver whose job is to pick up people in Belfast and drive them to Londonderry. He talked the whole way! It rained the whole way. We passed sheep, the green country side, and the new wind mills they are trying out. Then we came into Londonderry and our hotel was right on the river and the base of the wall. Londonderry was founded in the 1600's as a plantation. They built a heavy wall which is still standing-against many kings' assaults. After we got settled, we ventured out looking for dinner. Since it was Sunday, most places weren't open. But no one drinks like the Irish, I mean Northern Irish. Pubs galore. But I wanted food too so we settled on this restaurant and went in. Alot of men were in there, sitting in front of their large beers, and staring at the beer like it was their only friend in the world. I watched them the whole time I was there. They only got up to smoke outside the front door. Did I mention that the Northern Irish smoke as much as the Spanish? Like chimneys, even the young people. But the drinking was crazy.

We enjoyed our dinners and by the time we finished, the rain had let up. My shoes were soaked and my umbrella inside out. When the sun peaked out, we went walking on the wall. It encircles the inner city and most of the people live outside, across the river. It used to be that the protestants lived on one side of the river while the Catholics lived on the other side. Never the two shall cross. Not any more. There's a new bridge linking the two sides called the Bridge of Peace. We walked along it.

The next morning Steve left for the plant early and I was left to enjoy my breakfast alone. I couldn't eat very well at this time or the rest of my stay in Northern Ireland because my gastroparesis had flared up. I did the best I could. It was often the worst in the mornings and better at night. After breakfast, I went to a local guild and talked to a genealogist about finding out about my Irish ancestor, John B. Talbott. He gave me some ideas but mostly just wanted to talk to a fellow historian. Then I went to the Tower Museum where the remains of the Spanish Armanda are housed. They were found by a local diving club some years ago, one of them a member of the Dupont team who built the plant. Great exhibit. I met some people from Texas there as I learned all I ever wanted to know about the history of Londonderry-right up to the minute.

Fifteen years ago I had visited Londonderry, ate lunch at this restaurant and bought a vase at the crystal place next door. I went right back there, had a chicken salad with soda bread and then went crystal browsing. The same old man was there. Ha! Then I toured the wall, stopping at a very old church with a cozy cemetery. An old man beckoned me in, had me sign tghe register, and told me all about the little Church of England there. I felt right at home. The members were very aged and they did what they could with the elderly in their area-delivering food and flowers. They were true Christians!. Next I went to the big church on the hill, also Church of England built on the site of a former monastery. No one was there. I waited. Thought maybe they were out to lunch. Other people came and waited, griped because the door was locked. As I was walking away, finally some one yelled out to me that the door was open now. So I got to go in after all. Very nice. The windows were pretty and I find something warm and fuzzy about being in an old and beautiful church. Even feel at home in the cemetery. (Weird, I know). Then I went back to my hotel to write. When Steve returned it was raining hard again so we ate a nice dinner in the hotel.

The next day I only had a hlaf day before we needed to get back to Belfast. So I went directly to the souvenir store where I meet a nice lady who had one son at the Invista plant and one at the Dupont plant. I made her day. Then I went back to my crystal place and bought four wine goblets and a pitcher. Steve had warned me that I couldn't get them home without breaking them. But I didn't live in Singapore without learning how to pack glass items. So I repacked everything and yes, got everything wrapped up to travel (and they did). Then we were driving back to Belfast.

Again we stayed in a very nice hotel next to the river. It was a bright sunny day so we walked all around the river and all through downtown. I saw that they had turned their old churches into malls. We took pictures of the Parliament Building where all this peace business had been hammered out. Good for them. Soon our time in Northern Ireland was gone and we had to leave for a stop in England first, then a flight to Washington DC. It was very easy as I had no one sitting next to me. Now I was determined to stay home for awhile. Famous last words.