Northern Ireland In A Nutshell

One night in Northern Ireland - call it the 'fast and furious' tour of this northerly UK bit of Ireland. One rainy afternoon after we got off the morning ferry was spent in the Titanic Museum, a wonderfully interactive museum dedicated to the ship building industry and the disastrous voyage of that famous ship. The next day we took a windy/rainy walk at The Giant's Causeway. Rock formations, ocean waves, and lots of wind. What more could one ask for? Overall impression? When I go back, I'll tell you.

Of Kilts, Cabers, Bagpipes, and Highlands

As I write this I am reminded of the scene in the Netflix series 'The Crown' where the Queen Mother is walking along the moors of Scotland after the death of her husband King George VI and she discovers a wee manor house (yes, I said wee) that she likes and decides to purchase it as her own retreat. Where am I going with this? Well, on the day we drove through the Cairngorm Highlands, we visited the Highland Games in Ballater. We also 'dropped in' at Balmoral but were 'not received' as Her Majesty was 'in residence'. (Enough quotation marks in that sentence?)  Ballater is a small village near Balmoral Castle that hosts an annual Scottish Games where everyone is in Highland dress (read kilts and knee socks). It is a day steeped in traditional history and has been visited in the past by members of the royal family. It was a real thrill to be there and be witness an event full of medieval rituals performed by the young men and women of today.

Scotland has not disappointed.  The people have been friendly and helpful and we had mostly sunny weather ... except of course when I have wanted to do laundry.  I find it curious that in a country where they are known for their abundance of 'weather', most people do not own clothes dryers, even small ones.  You can appreciate then the day near the Lake District when I needed to dry some clothing and resorted to using an oven.  Well, they do say that necessity is the mother of invention!  
One of the perks of traveling is getting to know new people and we were privileged to stay with Jan and Stewart MacIntosh in Kinghorn, Scotland.  They are wonderful Mennonite Your Way hosts living in Scotland with a connection to Manitoba via Providence College.  Jan was gracious enough to help me get our laundry done (can you sense how important this subject is to me?) and dried ALL IN ONE DAY.  Blessings to her!
Food is another subject up for discussion when one travels but I'll talk about that at another time ... suffice it to say I am becoming an expert on the varieties of grocery stores.  I'll keep you posted. 

It's Orkney!

First thing I learned when we arrived in Orkney is that when one talks about this island, one refers to it as Orkney or The Orkney Islands.  One does not visit "the Orkneys".  And people who live here are called Orkadians.  Now that we've clarified that, I can tell you that we had the most delightful time on the island.  The people of Shetland and Orkney are amazing ... they have chosen to live (are born) on these remote northern islands and are the hardiest people I have ever met.  We totally lucked out by having several days of sunshine between Shetland and Orkney ... this is not heard of.  One young man in the information office said, "The high today is 18 degrees, it's too warm."  Yikes!  If you know me, I am perpetually cold and yet everywhere we went I met women wearing sleeveless T-shirts and shorts or skirts with no tights.  OK, maybe they are normal and I'm not but, nevertheless, I was impressed and, or, intimidated by their hardiness (I think I used that word before).
I was totally charmed by both islands, I love narrow, windy lane ways and old buildings.  I love tea shops and news agents.  I love tiny gardens and stone fences.  I love listening to people speak in different accents. I love quaint!  Can I live here?  Probably not, but I can always come back to visit!

Why Shetland?

Bernie's blog has informed and updated you on our first 48 hours of traveling.  Even with all the experience we've had on the road, this 48 hours was tough by any standard.  Our rule of thumb is to "give it twenty-four hours" for things to look different.  In this case, twenty-four hours just meant twenty-four more hours.  But it's over now, my backpack did finally catch up to us in Lerwick, and we are on the other side of this particular set of aggro.  To top things off, we have been having lovely sunshine in Scotland. Every time we mention the sun to the locals, they just hold up a finger to their lips and say"Shhhh".
Why Shetland?  Well, Shetland has always been a thought nestled at the back of my mind.  Not for its beauty or rugged landscape but because my Mom's older brother Abe Hildebrand was buried here.  Uncle Abe was a Flight Officer with the RCAF and stationed (we believe) in the Shetlands.   July 1944 his plane crashed into the side of Foula Island leaving only one survivor ... ironically enough the survivor was from Winnipeg!  No one in my Mom's family has ever been to Shetland ... it is a long way to go, and somehow it felt important to do this for my Mom because I know she missed her brother.  Abe Hildebrand was 27 years old when he died and he left a young wife that he had married when he was stationed in New Brunswick.  Mom had a few letters from her sister-in-law but after a while that contact was lost too.  The archivist who worked in the Museum Library was very helpful in trying to find information about the crash and he came up with two short articles that I was not familiar with.  (To my Hildebrand cousins, if you are interested, I will get copies to you when we return home at the end of this adventure and we empty our backpacks.)
I'm so glad I got to visit Uncle Abe's final resting place.  It was an emotional moment, not because I knew him, but because it called to mind all the family that was left behind and missed him ... it really makes me wonder how my Grandmother felt when she received the telegram informing her of his death.  I'll never know.   Before we left we attached a small Canadian pin and a small pin from Winker to a handmade Canadian flag already situated at the headstone. Rest in Peace Uncle Abe.
    

Missing Lucky Already

Well, here we go again!  If you followed this blog the last time we travelled (2012-2013), you'll know that I used the Low German phrase "Eck zee blous met" as the title.  In case you've forgotton, the English translation means "I am just along".  This time the title in Low German is "Eck zee aulwada blous met" and ... you guessed it, the English translation is, I am again just along!  😉   How did we get to be out here in the world again?  I'm not always quite sure.  To be sure, lots of planning went into this second adventure (mostly by Bernie) but Matthew and I have had input into places to go and what to see.  To be fair, I don't enjoy long hours on the computer researching places and checking on rates.  If Bernie is happy doing this, I'm happy to let him. And we're off!