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Northern Ireland: Totally Different to Ireland
Visiting Downhill Demesne and the Giant’s Causeway
We woke up very early again in the Hodson Bay Hotel carpark overlooking the lough, which was bursting its banks. We decided to get moving since it had stopped raining. We wanted to make the most of the day. We stopped for fuel and a coffee. A caramel muffin (called toffee here) was only one euro extra, so I grabbed one of those too. We didn’t stop long, though, as every time the door opened, a cold rush of air assaulted my scantily clad body. (I was still in my pyjamas.)
At Cookstown, however (yes, there is an S, we have Cooktown in Australia named after Captain James Cook), we stopped for a proper rest. I lay down and was asleep within seconds. Ross let me sleep and was all prepared to drive and navigate to the Causeway Coast on his own. He had his iPad strapped to the arm of the passenger seat with duct tape, but as he started the engine, I woke up and asked for a coffee. Luckily, he hadn’t driven out of the Macca’s carpark, so he hopped out and brought me back a lovely toffee coffee while I put in our coordinates for our destination, which I kept as a surprise for him.
