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No Smiling Allowed Evidenced by the numerous standing puddles, it had rained considerably during the night. It was still raining. We thought it might be better to take the tent down while it was raining; maybe the inclement weather would hinder the evil winged-devils from flying. We prayed for a breeze. Sharon thought mosquitoes were passive compared to these voracious critters. Midges had gathered under the tent fly in a solid black mass--waiting out the rain in a dry spot no doubt--licking their lips, spying the delicious morsels inside. It was a precision takedown; squishing the fly together, killing a few hundred midges, in revenge for the feeding frenzy I endured last night. Out of the forest and onto the main road, we breasted the hill and coasted fifteen fog enshrouded kilometers into Larne for breakfast. We bought scones and flat triangle soda bread, lovingly covering them with tart rhubarb jam. In Larne, posted signs warned: No Vehicles Left Unattended.
We later learned the "No Vehicles Left Unattended"
law extended to bicycles as well. Bombs left in unattended cars
in the past, especially rental cars, demanded the no parking
enforcement. Battalions of police officers patrolled the streets, brandishing an astonishing array of weapons. Communication earphones dangled conspicuously. They were not friendly. No smiling allowed. One officer walked main street, accompanied by a snarling German Shepherd. The flak-jacketed handler constantly restrained the pedestrian-devouring canine. The dog appeared intent on ripping someone's arm off. And I was positive that would be just the appetizer. What would a dog like that do to a cyclist? At the ferry terminal we saw pictures of sites in Northern Ireland we had bypassed for lack of time. It was always difficult to select what we would see. We couldn't see it all. Oh well, save something for next time, I always said. The P&O Scottish ferry crossing to Cairnryan, Scotland cost £21 each. Because of Sharon's miscalculation the other day we had eighty-five Southern Ireland punts left. Sharon had calculated correctly for the number of days we had left in Ireland, but she forgot we would be in Northern Ireland, which has different currency than the South. I traded the Irish pounds for British pound sterling and it cost us another ten dollars to do so. This money exchange business was a wretched farce by the banks to grab more money. And that wasn't even considering the bloody nuisance of it all. Sharon bought groceries before we left Northern Ireland, and paid with English pounds. They took English pounds in Northern Ireland as well as their own Northern Ireland notes. Sharon paid in English pounds (which they also took in Scotland, along with their own Scottish notes). We didn't notice until we were off the ferry in Scotland, the shopkeeper had given Sharon Northern Ireland notes for change, which they didn't accept in Scotland or anywhere else in the UK. Bloody crime! Hell! Silly buggers! They made expensive souvenirs. The ferry took three hours to cross the unusually calm Irish Sea. Before we went back to our bikes we hit the washroom. To our dismay we found showers! It was too late. Sharon wondered if she would have time to grab a quick shower before the ferry reloaded and made the return trip. |
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