Day 84: Lendalfoot - Cairnryan ⛴️ Belfast

The morning started calmly. Very calmly. Too calmly for my liking, but ideal for tired paws. We were still parked next to the monument to the Russian submarine, with the North Channel sea as our only visual entertainment.

Dad Edu took the opportunity to chat with some Dutch people who stopped to tuck into their sandwiches. They talked about campers, routes and I don't know what other things that humans find fascinating and I don't. I was doing my thing: a doggy nap in the sun, between the campervan's wheels.

Around two o'clock, we set off for Cairnryan. In less than half an hour we were already at the port. And surprisingly, everything went like clockwork. The check-in was so easy that it almost made us suspicious. Nobody asked to see my passport, my signature, or a selfie. They didn't even sniff me! Why did I swallow that anti-parasite tablet, then?

We waited a little while until they let us board the ferry. We got a spot in the front row, right at the bow, in the open-air area. I stayed inside the camper while Dad Edu went up to explore the boat. I have no proof, but I have suspicions: I'm sure he walked around the deck with a captain's face, ate his sandwiches staring at the horizon and got bored pretending he likes sailing.

The crossing lasted just over two hours. The sea was calm, the sky too, and nobody vomited. A resounding success.

As we were the first to leave, as soon as the ship touched Irish soil, zack! We were already rolling through the streets of Belfast. We drove through it without stopping. It's not that it's ugly, but let's just say... it didn't wink at us.

Our destination was the Lagan Valley Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. A very long name that basically means "beautiful forest next to a river". It's a protected area southwest of Belfast, with green paths, trails for walking, inquisitive squirrels and that air of eternal Sunday that some parks have.

We stopped at a first car park, took a decent stroll along the banks of the River Lagan – nothing to write home about, but pretty – and then, as we like to play at continuous improvement, we moved to another car park a little further inland. A five-minute drive and we arrived at a wider, quieter place with more fellow travellers on wheels: a dozen campers and motorhomes had already set up camp there. The atmosphere is relaxed, like a campsite without rules or receptions.

And here we stayed to sleep, among trees, silence and an air that smells of brand new Ireland. Not bad for our first day on the Emerald Isle.