Arriving in the UK

I flew into Heathrow airport the morning of the 12th. I had misunderstood some entry requirements, and had accidentally left my information in my pack, which I had to check instead of carry on from New York. I was almost denied entry because of this, but was given a visitor's stamp for the time being. There is some work to do there.

I traveled by bus to Stansted airport and flew from there to Belfast. Very tired, I stumbled into Arnie's hostel at about 6 in the evening to find they had one whole bed left, which I claimed. After dropping my pack and fiddle there, I had as Irish an evening as I can imagine: I had fish and chips for dinner, followed by a pint of Beamish stout at one pub and a pint of Harp at another. When I went to bed that night, I believe I had been awake, except for very short naps, for about 31 hours.

The next day, I played pool at a pub with a South African from the hostel. His name is Etienne Wagner, and he is a professional pool shark and free rock climber. Luckily, we didn't play for money. He showed me around the city on a surprisingly sunny day and we went to a club later.

The next day Etienne and I took a bus along the coast to the Giant's Causeway. Rocks there have regular shapes and form in straight columns. It was a great way to get my first good look at the coast of Ireland. From there we traveled to Portstewart and stayed at Rick's Hostel. At one point I was in a room with a Brit, a Portugese guy, an Aussie, a French girl, our host Rick, and the South African. There were some Germans somewhere too. I thought it was quite a mix.