Day Seventeen

17th May 2009 NORTHERN IRELAND

Hello Ireland….

I am awake by six… half an hour later I am downstairs in the dining room of the South Sea Hotel… a full breakfast and a pot of tea in front of me… and that is again thanks to Andy the Session Clerk from the Church of Scotland in Troon.

A little after eight I’m walking up the gangway on to the ferry and not long after that we set sail. The money given to me a few nights back covered the cost of the ticket to Ireland with very little change… maybe enough left over for the price of a cup of tea below deck. For now, I stay above deck, feeling the rumble of the engines below, watching the water being churned up by the ship’s propellers… the harbour of Troon moving slowly away. There is a little drizzle in the air, I turn around to head back in and to see if I can get that cup of tea with the loose change in my pocket… turns out I don’t have enough money for a cup of tea… I explain a little bit about the walk I’m doing to the guy behind the counter… on hearing my story, he decides not only do I have enough money for a cup of tea but also enough for a slice of chocolate cake. Thank you. So here I am sat in a boat with a cup of tea, a slice of cake, empty pockets, Scotland behind me and Ireland in front of me… in between two chapters. Ireland will be a far shorter chapter than Scotland… I have not had a proper look at the map yet… the boat docks maybe a day’s walk north of Belfast. To get back to Wales (the mainland) I need to get the boat from Dublin… and to get to Dublin I’m guessing will take me no more than a week. If I am to reach the church that I was baptised in on the south coast of England in the forty days I had set myself… the stepping into Wales will take me over the halfway mark. 

Tea and cake gone, I head back out on deck, standing on the starboard side of the ferry looking out to the horizon, I think sometimes (…for those of us that don’t live and work out at sea) we forget how big the ocean is… a few nights back I was in a sleeping bag laying in long grass, looking up at the stars… when you see a night sky that goes on forever and probably beyond, or in a boat with only the deep blue sea between you and the horizon… yeah, I think for many when confronted with the size of not just our oceans, but also our solar system and the wider universe, it can make them feel small… insignificant… really not very important at all… it’s easy to question what value we have in the bigger scheme of things… Me, I don’t think I’ve ever really thought like that… standing here on deck, I am just a passenger leaning up against the rails looking down at the water passing by… and what I am thinking is this, ‘everything was made for you and me (… yeah ok…and everybody else out there) … so let’s take a ride (a walk) and see what’s ours’.

Without that boy and that girl, I spoke of a number of days ago, the oceans and stars and all that is in-between would mean nothing at all… We (that is mankind) are in many ways the internal aspect of this physical world… the invisible conscience that cares about what is good and has the desire to do that good… an inquisitive mind, that wants to know, the Whys, the Hows and the What ifs… a head that knows the joy of what it is to laugh… but I guess above all… a heart that knows how to love… a heart than can pick up a little one and see all the wonder and beauty of this world (… and the universe) through their bright eyes… and in doing so, maybe just maybe get a glimpse, an understanding of what it’s all for… I have heard a number of people say, that humanity is a cancer, and the world would be a far better place without us… don’t listen to them… to take mankind out of the picture, would not be cutting out a cancer… it would be cutting out the very conscience (the soul) of the universe.

There is a chill in the air, the drizzle is back on. I again head below deck, there is still a little over two hours before we reach Ireland. I find a soft chair in a quiet corner and sink into it, I stretch my legs out, close my eyes for a moment… the steady rumbling of the engines and the gentle sway of the ferry helps to clear my thoughts. I forgot to mention… tonight I have a place to stay, at the end of each day I send out a small blog to let people know where I am and to say a thank you to those that had helped me out that day. A family (I don’t know them) picked up on the blog and sent me a message if I need a place to stay when I get off the boat, they would be more than happy to help out (how good is that). Mr Omar and his family live in a small town called Carrickfergus, about ten miles south from the port of Larne, where the boat gets in (that is… for anyone using my scale… a half a thumbprint of a walk… about three maybe four hours of steady walking… not so bad). For the rest of the sea journey, I stay in my chair… not sure how much of that time was spent in the land of nod… I wake up to the sound of a loudspeaker telling passengers that we are ten minutes away from port.

It is a little after mid-day, I am walking down the gang way of the ferry and into Northern Ireland (a place I have not been to before… much of the 1980s I was in the military and with the Troubles, it was classed as a no-go area and after the 80s I guess life just got busy… the chance just never came around). It feels good to be stepping into Northern Ireland.

I don’t know how but I get lost in the port of Larne… I seem to be walking around in circles, looking for how to get out… a truck pulls up with ‘Laganside Haulage’ written on the door, I look up and the window goes down, the trucker leans out… “You look lost”. “Me lost… no not at all… yeah ok maybe a little, not sure how you get out of this place”. “Go round the other side and climb in”. “Thanks”. I am in the truck for no more than ten minutes… Eddie (that’s the name of the trucker) takes me to the main road just outside the port. I think Eddie is the kind of guy we should all meet up with once in a while, he had an enthusiasm for life… laughter came easy to him, I was glad to have been lost. Thank you, Eddie.

It is not long before I am out of the small town of Larne and back to walking on country roads… there’s a few drops of rain in the sky and I am thinking there will be many more before I reach Carrickfergus, for now my collar is up and my rain jacket in the bag… I guess there is a reason why Ireland is green… a little rain will do no harm. I think about the last few days… I broke a few rules… I took the money given, to pay the ferry man and then climbed into a truck to get away from the dock of the bay… hmm… If I am honest, I’m kinda of ok with that (I don’t plan to keep breaking the rules… although I do need to figure out how it is I get the ferry back to Wales).

I think sometimes the letter of the law can hold people back… When my little ‘bright eyed’ girls started school the ‘law’ (…as it were) was, when walking to school next to busy roads or when crossing those roads, they were to hold onto mum or dads hand… as they grew a little older and didn’t need mum or dad to walk them to school, the ‘law’ changed… you stay away from the curb and when wanting to cross the road you look for a ‘Lollipop man’. Laws are there to protect and guide us… and rightly so. My two girls are young ladies now, when crossing the road, they don’t need to hold hands or look for a ‘Lollipop lady’… they instinctively know what the rules are for crossing a road… it becomes second nature to look left and right… the letter of the law steps out of the book and becomes a part of who we are.

We should be able to say the same about faith… Every religion at its foundation has a Holy Book... (the letter of the law) ... and I guess that is good… I’m thinking I need to be a little careful in what I say next (maybe I’m walking on thin ice… I don’t want to find myself in hot water...!). Faith, to mean anything needs to be real (maybe more so for the young) … faith should be a living thing… not static, nor stuck in the past. Each generation should be able to look at their scriptures a new… Not for the purpose of changing what has been written… but in order to make it their own… It is for each generation to bring together ‘the letter of the law’ and ‘the ‘spirit of the law’ with the days they find themselves living in. The ‘Word’ like faith should be a living thing… not stuck in one place or time, but continuously giving new insights and guiding humanity to better days ahead.

One last thought before I step of the ice and back on to a country lane. The many Holy Books from around the world are all made up of the same stuff, paper and ink… words written down on paper, is not truth (…I think I just heard the ice crack). The truth within those words… that talk of love, compassion, the need to live for the sake of others… only becomes real when we take ownership of those words and act accordingly…the word made flesh as it were… It is people that will change the world (…with a little help from paper and ink).

Safely back on tarmac (not sure if the ice broke, thought it best not to look behind), the drizzle is a little more persistent now, I dig out my waterproof top, collar still up, head down, hands buried in pockets… still have a few hours before I reach Carrickfergus. Mr Omar has told me he will meet me at the castle (I am told I won’t miss the castle… hmm I’m the guy who got lost walking out of the port in Larne), I told Mr Omar I should be there between four thirty and five.

The drizzle never quite turning into rain, the sky stays overcast, the jacket on one moment off the next. The country lane quietly winding its way south, green field on either side, the occasional ancient, crooked tree, leans over as if wanting to pass down some words of wisdom… if only I could understand tree talk, I’m pretty sure they would have some stories to tell. 

I walk into the town of Carrickfergus from the east side. I don’t see a castle; I stop and ask… I am to stay on the coast road that I’m on and just keep walking and till I bump into it… Thank you. It’s a really nice walk along the sea front… I have been told Carrickfergus is one (if not the oldest) settlements in Ireland. No more than ten minutes of walking the castle comes into sight. As I approach the castle, I am not too sure who it is am looking for… I didn’t have to worry… Amalia and her dad spot this scruffy guy with a bag over his shoulder, hobbling a little, looking a little lost and out of place. Omar holds out his hand “You must be Paul; I am Omar and this is my Daughter Amalia… you must be hungry, my wife Sumie is already getting dinner ready”. The welcome was so warm, it felt as if these country roads had brought me home. “Thank you”. Back at Omar’s home I am introduced to Sumie and their son Victor, shown the spare bedroom, told to grab a shower, to bring my washing down and that dinner will be ready in half an hour. Later, sat around the dinner table, it felt that I had known this family for the longest time… stories were shared, questions asked and laughter heard… I was very much made to feel that we were one family.

After dinner we sat in the front room with tea and coffees, a neighbour came round, it felt we were sat up half the night and more, talking about what it was all for… Omar asked George (the neighbour) the question… “What would the world be like if ‘the Fall’ had not happened?”. The question stuck in my head… What if?... that is something else to put on my list of things to think about while walking… but it would have to wait… in my head I still have the conundrum of a square peg in a round hole… A good God and a crummy world.