Snug in Ireland

Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Bangor, County Down, Northern Ireland

Friday in Nice dawned cool and sunny, perfect for us to finish packing our bags to leave. I was still in the shower at 8:30 when Pierre gave Walt and Reed two bottles of freshly pressed olive oil that he’d just brought back from the mill. Then he left to go harvest over at the other property so I missed the chance to say goodbye, but it’s just as well, since there’s not much else I could say to Pierre except thanks for all the really good food, and hope you catch that wild pig!

Anne took us to the Nice airport at 11 am, plenty of time to check in for our 2 pm flight and then get some baguette sandwiches for lunch, and an International Herald Tribune to read… we went through security without difficulty and then relaxed in the remarkably uncrowded international departures lounge, with a view of the Mediterranean, and the towering space well lit by the sun. Our EasyJet flight was the first time I’d been on a plane without assigned seats and I was impressed with how rapidly the boarding process was finished, and how much space there was for our carry on bags in the overhead bins. Perhaps it has something to do with Europeans not owning so much junk as Americans? In any case, our flight crew was Irish as was the pilot, and we enjoyed the very smooth flight. Refreshments were not free, and this, too, added to the general pleasantness of the trip, as the flight attendants were not hustling up and down the aisle slinging beverages at everyone whether they wanted one or not. Our trip through customs went easily too, since we weren’t EU passport holders we went into a different line than everyone else, and didn’t have to wait to see the immigration officer. Anna Kavanagh was waiting for us as we emerged and welcomed us all with big hugs – what a pleasure to finally meet her in person after communicating so regularly via email since April. After a funny moment when Walt tried to sit down in the driver's seat by mistake, she drove us in her Honda Prelude to the house in Bangor, about a 20 minute drive from the Belfast Int’l airport, pointing out things of interest on the way, such as the shipyard where the Titanic was built. We met Michael when we got back to the house, as kind and friendly as Anna, and we felt immediately at home with them and in the house.

After so much time of not being able to communicate well, talking with Anna and her husband Michael was luxurious, and the effect was compounded by our surroundings in this house, which is a solid, well built brick house in a neighborhood of matching houses, at the end of a cul de sac not too far from the sea. Upstairs are 3 bedrooms and a bathroom, and downstairs is a laundry room, den, living area, and dining room/kitchen. Anna and Michael added on the beautiful kitchen/dining area 5 years ago, so we’re cooking our meals and washing our dishes with almost brand new appliances in a kitchen painted a warm pumpkin color, appointed with a radiantly heated slate floor, and black granite countertops, overlooking a carefully tended back garden with lots of flowering shrubs, including a fuschia, which both Walt and I love but which is too tender to grow in Idaho.

It may rain a lot here, but the climate is mild enough, judging by the number of palm trees we’ve seen planted in yards, including this one. Much to Reed’s delight there is also a big goldfish pond in the back yard, with plants and rocks, developed enough now to the stage that they don’t have to feed the fish anymore since they can survive on what’s there naturally. Reed came running in the first day to have me come out to see the little frog that was out on the rocks next to the pond.

There is a whole gaggle of boys who live on this street, whom Reed met Saturday afternoon when they all gathered in the circle of the cul de sac in front of the house to play football (soccer, that is). They gave him some cursory words of instruction (“You can’t use your hands, only your feet”) and let him join in. We watched surreptitiously from the front window, not wanting to miss Reed’s first pick-up soccer game with the lads but also to be sure there wasn’t any trouble. All went well; Reed apparently scored once or twice and had an assist, and later in the day young Charlie came to play with Reed by himself, and he seems a nice enough little boy, aged 6 like Reed.

Anna and Michael fed us heartily in typical Irish fashion, real comfort food for us: potatoes, peas, chicken pie, carrots and parsnips with gravy on Friday night, and steak, potatoes, and cabbage with gravy on Saturday night. Yum yum yum. Friday night we allowed ourselves to be guests, and Saturday night we did the washing up after dinner so Anna and Michael could finish their packing. I was astounded at the amount of time Anna spent with us on Saturday, driving us around to show us the basics and help us get our bearings, taking us to the nearby town of Newtownards to introduce us to the greengrocer most devoted to local food, pointing out the best butcher, etc. As I recall as we were leaving on our trip we barely had time to sleep much less play host to anyone; but I guess we were emptying our house, which is an entirely different thing than turning the whole furnished thing to a housesitter. Anna had also prepared a whole booklet of info for us to make our stay go smoothly, and now not only do I simply like Anna I have a great deal of respect for her organizational abilities! Birds of a feather, we are.

Anna and Michael left at 2 pm Sunday and as it was getting rainy about that time we made a fire and stayed in for the afternoon. Monday we rose with the sun and headed out after breakfast to town, going by way of the coastal path, which isn’t the quickest way but certainly the prettiest. The coastline is rocky and grey, the water surging in and out in a fairly substantial tidal flow. There were plenty of gulls and herons and cormorants fishing for their breakfasts, and we saw a seal, too, a glossy black head a few yards out from the rocks. The coastal path is wide and paved, lined on the one side with hills and tall Georgian-era terraced houses painted in pretty colors and on the other side with grass leading down to the rocks, attracting joggers, bikers, and lots of dog walkers; almost everyone says good morning, although I did notice we got more friendly hellos on Monday as a nicely turned out family than I did this morning as a lone woman in running pants. The path leads into the center of Bangor and its marina and as we walked along alternating our gaze from the snug houses to the picturesque harbor I began to miss the place in advance, knowing how attached I’ll be by the time we have to leave next spring. I also remembered why I love the British Isles so much – looking at the houses makes me feel safe, as if I have my hands constantly wrapped around a cup of hot milky tea. I had forgotten that feeling in France, and no matter how much I love those stone houses with tile roofs, France never makes me feel safe, at least, it hasn’t happened yet.

We found the library, temporarily housed in a small mall while the real one is renovated, and checked out some books with Anna’s library card, then found the Oxfam thrift shop where we purchased a couple of warm things for Reed to wear. Here we realized how friendly the Irish can be: the staff called Reed a good lad, gave him some candy, told us all about things we can do in Bangor and the rest of the sights in Northern Ireland, decanted on the weather, and made us feel thoroughly welcome, all in about 15 minutes. By the time we found the bustling Heatherlea bakery/café/deli up the street we were hungry and Walt and Reed discovered their flaky sausage rolls. I noted their many varieties of pastries and cakes and quickly decided that Reed and I would come here for treats on our special days out, as reward for good violin practicing and good school work.

We went further up the hill and found the main train/bus station and then a little past that is the 80’s modern leisure center, which has at least 3 indoor swimming pools – another thing to add to our arsenal of winter activities. We went a little further towards the butcher that Anna had recommended, to get some fish and chips for lunch from the little place on the corner - Collins Hot Foods - she had pointed out to us. We made the mistake of ordering two full orders of chips (with salt and vinegar of course) as well as two full orders of fish – one chip order would have been plenty, as it turns out! We crossed the road to find a place to sit down, since the chip shop turned out to be carry out only; fortunately it wasn’t raining and we settled out of the wind inside the walls of the cemetery of a church. Some of the graves dated to the 1700s, and the cheerful caretaker didn’t seem to mind us sitting in there to eat at all.

We got home in the early afternoon, and Charlie and his little brother Harry appeared shortly afterwards. We welcomed them inside at first until we discovered that Charlie and Harry together are little hellions, so the boys were all sent outdoors again and will not be invited inside anymore. Then we discovered that throwing rocks at the fish is too great a temptation for boys other than Reed so we have also decided not to allow any other children in the back garden. Poor Walt played policeman almost all afternoon while I worked on some writing assignments upstairs, but he won’t have to do that again. They’ve got the whole circle of the road in front in which to play, and selfish as it may seem I don’t intend to spend my afternoons supervising children who need more supervision than Reed!

The days stretch out long here, even with the early sunsets. It must be the effect of not having any farm work to do, not having anywhere that we have to be, giving me even more time than I could imagine. At home the afternoons were gone in a few minutes, always! How unfair, that the people with the most to do are given so little time each day; those of us who are doing nothing apparently have all the time in the world in which to do it.