A Day with Gareth

On Monday, we planned to meet up and visit Scrabo Tower and Donaghadee, and then go to the Titanic museum. Gareth was able to take some time off work that coincided with our visit to Northern Ireland, so he was our tour guide for the first part of the day.

Scrabo Tower is just an old tower that you can see from almost everywhere in the county; I find that comforting. Being so high up, it affords a great view of the countryside and of Strangford Lough. It's also a sentimental site: When my dad filmed a video in Northern Ireland, we obtained permission to haul a grand piano to the base of the tower and get footage of him playing a song — I think, "This Is My Father's World" — at an incredible overlook. Donaghadee is seaside town, a favorite for many reasons: the picturesque lighthouse, the lack of tourists, and the fun of saying its name.

On our way to Scrabo first, Gareth asked if we would like to drive by Miss Elizabeth's house. Miss Elizabeth is an older lady who has been very close to my family. She lives in a beautifully restored, centuries old, traditional Irish cottage, which she used to run as a bed & breakfast. She has known Gordon since he was a boy; she used to sneak him sweets at church. My family has stayed with her a few times, and we bonded quickly. She took an especial shine to my dad (as most people did), calling him her "Big Son." So, I thought it would be nice to look at her house as we passed, and I wished aloud that I could see her. (Previously we had thought there wouldn't be time on this visit.) "Well, we can call in if she's at home," offered Gareth, and of course I accepted.

Miss Elizabeth's cottage.

It's probably been eight years since I last saw Miss Elizabeth, so she didn't recognize me at first. "Do you remember me?" I asked. "I should do," she said, examining my features. "I'm Chelsea, Roger's daughter." The look on her face! She was perfectly shocked for a few seconds, mouth agape (I was actually a little concerned), and then she reached and gave me the biggest hug. She welcomed Abby just as warmly, and we all stepped inside her lovely cottage to sit in front of the Aga.

Abby, Miss Elizabeth, and Gareth, in front of the Aga.

She caught up with Gareth for a few minutes, and he went out to his car to get some photos of his girls to show her. As he left, she turned to me and said, "Well, how about your love life, then?" She's just that way. She has a great sense of humor and she will get right to the point, always kindly, and usually in a very funny way. So I got her more or less up to date on my life, my brother's, and my mother's — the good and the bad.  She also told us about her travels, etc. She is through with cruising, and she has an Australian in love with her, which I told her from experience isn't a good idea. (Joke.) She was considering emigration, and I suggested the States. "Just bring your Aga, and you're welcome." She also told me that I should move to Ireland and live with her… Really, that would be acceptable.

Dad's chair in front of the Aga.

We went outside to take a photo before we moved on. I gave her some photos of my family I had brought with me. I hugged her and told her I love her. She said, "I love you too," in her beautiful accent. "Never doubt it. Never doubt it." She hugged me again and I started to cry. I have her number and address, so I hope we can keep in touch. I don't think I know a sweeter lady.

Hugging me so hard during this photo.

After that love-fest I could have left happy, I think. But Scrabo was next, where the gorse was in full bloom, overwhelmingly yellow and sweet. Gareth and Abby helped me take some more ukulele photos. Though a gorgeous day, it wasn't ideal for photography, and I still think my Scrabo sunset images from 2007 are the best. However, I like some of the ones I got, and the view and the breeze were exhilarating.

All this gorse!!!

This is me climbing down from the rock where I had Abby take my ukulele picture.

Scrabo.

Gorse, Strangford Lough.

Abby and me at the base of Scrabo.

Abby and Strangford Lough.

A candid photo of Abby and me, by Gareth.

Gareth.

Next, we went to Donaghadee. There's really nothing amazing about the village, but it's a charming spot and a favorite of our two families'. It has the added advantage of there being a Maud's Ice Cream shop in town. I really doubt there's any better ice cream in the world. (I know I say the świderki lody from Poland is my favorite, but really it has got to be Maud's. It's completely different, too.) The best flavor is Poor Bear, which is a sweet cream with real honeycomb bits and a honey swirl. I've told you already that their milk is so much better, and their ice cream is no different. Naturally sweeter, better texture, and more wholesome tasting. We each got a large cone of the Poor Bear, and went for a walk along the harbor. I think the salt air made the ice cream taste even better. More ukulele photos, and more penny whistle photos with Abby, too. She doesn't play, but she oughtta learn.

Abby, me, and Gareth, with Maud's.

Abby at Donaghadee harbor.

Album shot.

The best photo. Abby's caption: "Single for life."

Donaghadee lighthouse.

It was only a brief stop in Donaghadee. On the way out, I decided I would like some more Maud's. I was alone in this decision, but I don't regret eating a whole 'nother tub. (Less cone means more ice cream.) Anyway, I had promised Hannah I would have some for her, so that's what that was for. I couldn't very well share one cone.

Went to G & L's place to pick up Leona and Leia. Leia took great pride in showing Abby and me her room and her possessions. May took the two little ones with her, and we big kids went to the Titanic museum. I wasn't very interested to go, to be honest; the Titanic doesn't capture my imagination like it does some peoples'. But I must say that it was an extremely well done museum. Generally, I like a good museum, regardless of the topic, so I did enjoy this one in the end. Have some photos.

The museum, which looks like three ships' prows.

The museum, the drawing room where the Titanic was drafted, and one of the cranes — Sampson or Goliath.

My living conditions were fantastic, but my diet was basically the same as this.

Good example of cleverness.

Beautiful handwriting.

Gareth and Leia.

Literally the only spot to take this photo where there wasn't a pole in the way.

Whatever that line from the Titanic is.

Leia: "I don't want a picture with a naked lady!"

The last item of the day was dinner with Lynn and Ian, more family friends we have known since the late 90s. They are great hosts and immediately began to ply us with wine — or, in my case, cider. Now, they are both very funny, and they've known Gordon and May for a very long time, so the comfort level is quite high. Messrs. Marks and Spencer provided a delicious dinner, and conversation was usually hilarious and always great. There were more memories shared of Dad, which of course I enjoyed.

Ian plays organ and piano, and it turns out he had never played for Dad, out of self-consciousness I suppose. Naturally, I began to pressure him to play for us. I even offered to play a song if he would. I played the first movement (I guess?) of "Adieu to the Piano," a Beethoven song my dad and I had played together. It's one of the few I have memorized. Abby also played a song. Then they encouraged Abby and me to sing. For the first time, I had left my ukulele behind, and was disappointed that I had. Having had two Stella ciders, though, we were rather easily cajoled into singing something a cappella. Abby and I haven't really sung together before, but we had recorded two Irish songs at St Patrick's Day, so I chose one of them. I sang some verses to "Whiskey in the Jar," and Abby joined in on the choruses, with the others keeping time by clapping. It's a lot harder singing without holding a ukulele; I know I was a bit nervous but they made me feel very comfortable. Entertainment like that may seem old-fashioned, but I don't think it should. Why don't we always gather around pianos and sing at parties? Why doesn't everyone have a song they can sing for their friends? It was just great fun, and happily it encouraged Ian to play piano for us. He has a very nice style with some uncommon chord progressions, and I do not think he should have been hesitant to play in front of my dad.

The evening was such good fun, I hated for it to be over. But Gordon had this thing called a "job" (a word I can't really remember the definition of), so we headed home in good spirits from a great night of fellowship.