Sweeping Statements

Operation "Introduce Eruntane to Northern Ireland" went into its second day quite succesfully. Instead of heading northwards along the coast like yesterday, we ventured inland a bit and skirted Strangford Lough southwards towards the intriguingly named Kingdom of Mourne (which probably doesn't have a King, but if it did would have to be an old, bearded man, living alone with four sheep, two dogs and possibly a crown made of heather). Far from being some sort of fantasy land filled with Orcs, Elves and bearded men of the kind who tend to have more affinity with eagles and trees than sheep and dogs, Mourne is in fact a mountainous region of South Down, made famous by a song which claims that said mountains "sweep down to the sea". We wound our way around these impressive landmarks and enjoyed the remote and picturesque scenery, where we were as likely to see a reservoir as a house. Entertainment was further derived from admiring sheep and lambs (or LEMZ as I have inexplicably begun to call them) and catching breathtaking glimpses of the Irish Sea.

N.B// The Mountains of Mourne never really seemed to sweep down to the sea so much as end abruptly at it. The only sweeping seems to be that performed by Tulleymore Forest Park as it descends the side of Slieve Donard (the tallest of the mountains) into the attractive (and ice-cream fuelled) town of Newcastle (britain's other, other Newcastle) where we finished our tour and had food of the delicious variety in a restaurant named after the man who wrote the afformentioned song, returning home to relearn from foggy memory, the wonderful game of Spit.

On a completely side-note to this half-hearted attempt at a post, I was supposed to explain, yesterday, why I called my post on Saturday "Soft Furnishings". There are two simple reasons:

1) Home here in NI is all about such comforts.

2) I called myself a masochist and it just so happens that in Bangor, a town just up the coast from here, there is a wonderful furniture store which goes by the name of S&M furnishings. Of course my masochism and this store's name are entirely unrelated, I'm merely advertising a local institution. Really I am.