Stone and Sea*, or the terrible, horrible, almost true tale of Dunluce Castle

 

Today was a glorious day in every way possible: the weather was perfect, we were able to keep to our plans, and spirits were high.

    We began the morning with a trip to Dunluce Castle, a short 10 minute drive up the road from us.  The castle was originally built in the early 1600's, incorporating the remains of two earlier towers.  The architecture changed over the years, as the castle changed hands (eventually and primarily ending up with the MacDonell's) and as the sea eroded the base upon which the castle was built, making it's location at the edge more and more precarious.  I mean, would you feel comfortable with it? (see below)

    Then, legend has it, one night in 1639, during a grand feast, the sea finally won it's battle with the castle's stone base. Part of the stone collapsed, tumbling into the waters below.  No longer supported, the castle's kitchen, in full swing with feast preparations, also plunged into the waters.  The terrified servants, who had been innocently going about their work, were carried shrieking to their doom,  dashed against the rocks below and crushed by the stone falling from above.

Or not.

Historians have found paintings of the castle from the 1700's not yet collapsed.  

So are the paintings based on memories, wishful thinking, or accurate?  I'll leave you to decide.  In the meantime, here are the Hayashidas looking perfectly happy and not at all terrified in the castle:

And, can you guess what this hole is for?  I'll give you a hint.  The Brits would call it a _oo and it was used for _oo.  Come on,  you know it's interesting.

We left the castle and ran back home for a quick lunch of pbj (yet another reason to love house swaps- cheap meals!) and headed out to Ballintoy.  

We hiked down to the beach, and spent a couple of hours wandering about (no swimming, as the apx 9 thousand signs warned, due to dangerouus rip tides) and marveling at the beauty.

There weren't many shells, but there were some pretty amazing rocks.  I noticed that there were stones of all different colors, though primarily the white of the cliffs, that had been smoothed by the sea into the shape of an egg- ancient symbol of rebirth. So I collected a bunch to bring home.

                               Oh Come On!  I'm a minister.  OF COURSE I do things like that.

Here's Kai and me at a spot where we found some of the most beautiful stones (right)

Then we headed up to Portballintrae, which had views like the one to the left along the way.

And then home, where I whipped up some scones.

For you bakers out there who want to replicate the experience, follow these directions.  First note the recipe:

450 g. plain flour

pinch of salt

20 g. baking powder

25 g. caster sugar

75 g. butter

2 eggs

200 ml milk

  Now convert it all into cups and teaspoons. Now realize there aren't any measuring cups or spoons in the house, and convert it into decaliters, the only measuring system available (in the form of one large pot).  Mix.

Now, try to figure out, without a manual, how to turn on a logic defying German made oven.  Once it has been made clear that the oven won't work unless the clock is set (I repeat: logic defying) thank your lucky stars that Irish neighbors are so friendly and wiling to come over and help figure out said oven.Finally, bake, and slather with butter and tayberry jam (which, while looking like raspberry jam tastes like blueberry jam). 

 Eat voraciously. 

*Michael came up with that poetic part of the title!