With the Sea Always On My Right: Counties Louth, Armagh and Down

County Louth

Continuing north from Slane on N2, we opted again for an inland route rather than the coastline, because I wanted to go through Ardee. The coast road was just ahead and we wouldn't veer far from it from then on. Ardee was said to have two castles. Well, they were small affairs, separated by about a block. One wonders why people built castles so close together. They were named Ardee and Hatch. The latter remained in the hands of the Hatch family until 1940, and is still privately owned.

In Gaelic, the town's name is Ath Fhir Diadh or Fear Diadh's ford. It pertains to a Celtic tale about combat between Cuchulainn and Fear Diadh and is recorded in "The Cattle Raid of Cooley." We parked in a municipal carpark on the River Dee by the ford. There is a nice, riverside walk with a pretty church across the water.

County Armagh

From Ardee, we turned northeast and took N52 to Dundalk. Then we rode on N1 to Newry. We passed through a small portion of County Armagh. We knew we were getting close to Northern Ireland. We expected to see a sign, a policeman at the border crossing, something to signify that we had left one country and were entering another, especially with all the problems they have had between the two countries. But there was NOTHING! It was absolutely amazing!

County Down

At Newry, we entered County Down and finally took the coast road, the A2, along the northern coast of Lough Carlingford, a large estuary rather than an enclosed lake. We had the legendary Mourne Mountains on our left covered with gorgeous, golden gorse in bloom. We just sat back and enjoyed the scenery as the road curved around from east to north through Kilkeel, Annalong to Newcastle, with Slieve Donard rising behind it. Slieve is the word for mountain. Then at Dundrum, we went inland for a short time to go to Downpatrick.

Downpatrick has a churchyard where St. Patrick is buried. Since St. Patrick and Ireland are so intermingled, we thought it would be a good time to check on this relationship. I didn't know the official story about the saint so I'm offering it here for those who don't know as well. This story comes from the Lonely Planet Guidebook. Of course, this may all be "blarney." You never know in Ireland.

Patrick's story took place in the 5^th century. At the age of sixteen, he was kidnapped from Britain by Irish pirates. During the six years that he worked as a shepherd tending sheep in Ireland, he found his belief in the Christian religion. Ireland had not been conquered by the Romans as England had, so it was still a Celtic nation with its own religion. Patrick escaped from his captors and returned to Britain. Back in his home country, he was besieged by visions urging him to return to Ireland. But he went instead to Europe first and trained as a cleric. Then he came back to Ireland in 432 A.D. and spent the rest of his life converting the Irish to Christianity. He set up the first Christian church in Armagh, now located in Northern Ireland, and he had his base there. But, of course, he traveled all over the country.

Much of our knowledge of Patrick comes from his own writings. St. Patrick's "Confessions" is included in the 9^th century Book of Armagh, which we were able to see at Trinity College. Also, we had already visited one of the sites associated with St. Patrick, but I waited to write about it now when we're having this discussion about him. In Slane, we had driven up the Hill of Slane where Patrick had lit an Easter fire in 433 A.D., just one year after his return to Ireland. Proclaiming Christianity throughout the land, he did this despite a decree issued by Laoghaire, the Celtic High King of Ireland, that no flame should be lit within sight of the Hill of Tara.

Loaghaire was furious but was restrained by his priests, the Druids, who had seen a vision that the man who had kindled the flame would surpass kings and princes. Laoghaire set out to meet Patrick and question him. Patrick plucked a shamrock and used its three leaves to explain the paradox of the Trinity - the union of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost in one Godhead. The king made peace with Patrick. While he refused to be converted, he allowed Patrick to continue his missionary work throughout Ireland.

As we drove into Downpatrick, I don't know how we missed Down Cathedral looming hugely to the left but we had eyed a church over to the right so we went there. A block later a sign would have told us about the Cathedral. But we drove up to the building we had sighted and found out it was St. Patrick Church. So we went in search of the Cathedral and did find it at the top of a hill. Down Cathedral is a beautiful structure also called the Cathedral of the Holy and Undivided Trinity. It had just closed about five minutes before but the churchyard was open and this was the reason we were here.

St. Patrick died in 461 A.D. and most accounts have him buried here. He died in nearby Saul where his followers were told by angels to put his body in an ox-cart. The angels would guide them to the spot where the saint was to be buried. They halted at the church on the hill in Down. Then in 1176, the Norman John de Courcy supposedly brought the relics of St. Columcille and St. Brigid and buried them along with the remains of St. Patrick, fulfilling yet another prophecy.

So we parked our car and we went in search of this place of the great triple burial. It is easy to find. The site has a large, irregular stone with the name "Patric" inscribed on it. Beside it is a stone plaque, which tells Patrick's story a little differently. It states that "he was kidnapped and brought to the island at the age of sixteen where he was sold into slavery. He escaped to France where he had a dream. He heard the voice of the Irish calling him back. Patrick answered that call and brought Christianity to Ireland in one of the most splendid chapters of our history."

From Downpatrick, we went to Strangford Lough, the site of St. Patrick's landing on his return to Ireland. The sun had come out brilliantly and made the waters of Strangford Lough, a deep royal blue. We explored the castle and waterfront before we boarded the ferry for the fifteen-minute ride to Portaferry. A bride and groom and their bridal party came on the ferry just as it was about to take off. It added quite a bit of excitement to the crossing. They posed for photos all over the boat. Apparently, they had been married in Strangford Lough and the reception was to be held in Portaferry.

The Lough is not a lake but an estuary again. It has "400,000 tons of water surge through the strait four times a day" so this crossing can sometimes be challenging but we made it with no problems. Portaferry was one of the "picture-postcard" villages described in my '92-93 Frommers Budget Travel Guide. It also had another 16^th century tower house castle. These tower houses were built after Henry VI offered a ten pound subsidy to anyone who constructed a tower to defend the coast in 1429.

The Ards Peninsula was described in one of our guidebook's as "23 miles of unspoiled countryside, dotted with windmills and ancient ring forts." We opted to drive there on the coast. Having motored late again tonight, we were lucky to find the Bay View B&B with an available room in the town of Ballyhalpert. The owners advised us to hurry to the pub in nearby Portavogie to have our dinner before it stopped serving meals. It's the main fishing port of the area. The waitress explained that they were closing the food service early tonight to get the place ready for a party. The Portavogie soccer team was competing in the championship game for their division in Belfast.

We were fortunate to be able to be served at all. I had lasagna served with the ever-present chips and a lager. My TC (Travel Companion) had struck up a conversation with Seamus at the bar while ordering our beer. Seamus was a one-man band who would be performing tonight. We had come across another pub with music just by chance. As we finished our meal, we watched Seamus set up two keyboards, four large speakers and tons of electrical wires connecting everything together.

We waited for the team to arrive. Everyone said they would be there around 9:30pm. Seamus couldn't start playing until they arrived. No one called so we didn't know whether they had won or lost. They didn't get there until after ten but they had won! But there was no cheering or loud behavior like you would have expected. I asked if I could take their pictures and they did give me some big smiles that showed their happiness. Seamus started to play. He had told me there wouldn't be any traditional music with this crowd. They would all leave. So he performed rock music and was a very good singer. I had my second wind and was ready to dance all night. But my TC was tired so we left. I finally crashed after being up since 4:30am.

I got eight, solid hours of sleep so my jetlag was over. We arose to have our first B&B Irish breakfast and it was filling and delicious. Two other guests were there, a father and son, who were natives of Ballyhalpert but now living and working in England. They were reminiscing with the owners. The son mentioned the fierce competition in sports between the school of Portaferry which was Catholic and that of Ballyhalpert which was Protestant. We had read that this area still had strong sectarian feelings so I was glad to hear them expressed in this way.

Norman and Margaret, our hosts, warned us of the British Isles motorbike races taking place around the Giant's Causeway area in the northern part of the island. We might have trouble finding a room up there as that was the direction we were heading. But they would be over around five o'clock so everyone would be leaving then. So we didn't think much of it.

The sun was shining bright and the Irish Sea across the street was a lustrous, aquamarine color. A herd of cattle was seen next door to the house on the left with some of the heads very close to the windows. A small green hill topped by a farmhouse was colorfully highlighted with the golden gorse out of our window to the right. We got under way about eleven and rode along the coast, not encountering any windmills or ancient ring forts. We did see the smallest castle of the trip at Donaghadee.

We drove on A2 north then turned west at Bangor. Driving beside Belfast Lough, another wide estuary, we continued on a four-lane highway, also part of A2, into Belfast, the capital of Northern Ireland.