Day four

After a huge night in Galway, we packed up and headed out on the road. Our first stop for the morning was the Knock Shrine. In 1879, a whole bunch of people saw what they believed was an apparition of Mary, St Joseph and John the Baptist, in the local church. The church has now become a shrine and is visited by thousands of pilgrims every year. Pope John Paul II visited there in 1979, and its popularity isn't showing signs of decreasing.

It does say knock...

The entrance to the church.

From Knock we headed over to Sligo, where William Butler Yeats is buried. Plenty of other famous people have come from Sligo, including Westlife, although we were banned from mentioning their existence by our bus driver. It was almost worth tempting fate, if there wasn't a chance we'd be left behind!

William Butler Yeats' grave.

After a rambunctious lunch and a frolick down the street, we got back onto the bus and headed over the border into Northern Ireland. We had a bit of an odd moment just before we crossed the border - we stopped for fuel, and Connor suggested that while we wait, we buy an ice cream. Suddenly 50 of us were standing around eating ice cream - Connor said it, we did it. He figured he had some power over us by then, but it didn't last.

We stopped for the afternoon in Derry. The official name of the city remains Londonderry, but the council are trying to officially change the name. Nationalists (Catholics) would rather have no reference at all to London, Unionists (Protestants) stand firm on maintaining the link to Great Britain. We tried to just not refer to it by name at all for fear of offending someone! We were in Derry to do a walking tour. The guide had to be one of the worst I've ever seen. He started the tour by lecturing us to stay close to him so that we could hear, and that we wouldn't be able to complain about not hearing him if we didn't essentially stand in each other's pockets. He then proceeded to barely speak above a whisper. Whilst standing on the side of busy roads at rush hour. Totally smart. I doubt more than the closest 5 people could hear him, and even they would have caught only every second or third word. The walking tour was essentially a waste of time, because I've learnt far more about the place from doing my own reading afterwards than I did on the tour.

Unionist areas are noted by the red, white and blue gutters.

Some of the many murals painted on the ends of houses.

The memorial for the victims of the Bloody Sunday massacre.

We left Derry after the tour and headed for our final destination for the day. This was easily my favourite of the places where we spent the night. On the way in to Ballintoy we were told that there were just two pubs, and to try and split ourselves between them. Team Nerd stuck together for dinner, with a plan to go across the road afterwards to have a drink. In the end we stayed right where we were. We had a fantastic meal, far too much food, and lots of drinks. This pub was where the Grasshoppa met and had a little crush on Rodney, the singer, and where I totally peer pressured her into fulfilling one of her dreams - singing an Irish love song in an Irish pub. I'd have apologised for bullying her, but it was totally worth it!

Grasshoppa, the Captain and the DPA at the pub in Ballintoy. Can't remember why they were pointing at me!

Grasshoppa singing her song.

This was the place where we rang in my 27th birthday with a couple of Bushmills. We were of course still there enjoying ourselves at midnight, so it was only natural to start the celebrations early! It was also the place where Cliff made his second and somewhat surprising appearance. I'm not sure if I ever told Grasshoppa how that came about!