Day 95: Carlingford 🇮🇪 - 🇬🇧 Belfast

The night promised tranquility… until the wind decided to throw its own festival. Around five in the morning, the camper was dancing more than a mariachi band at a fair, and my dad was afraid the bellows awning would blow away. In the blink of an eye, they packed everything up, lowered the roof, and we went to look for a less windy refuge. And, surprise: we found it almost instantly. We barely passed Carlingford Castle and a small lay-by type car park appeared, where the wind seemed to have taken the day off. There, at last, we closed our eyes again until ten.

Of course, after such a night, we didn't wake up feeling fresh as a daisy. It was time to repair the internal mess a bit, and then, yes, explore the centre. We started with Carlingford Castle, one of those that seems straight out of a "Charming Ruins" manual and that, like many around here, you can only admire from the outside. Then a stroll through the town and a visit to another ruin, this time an abbey, which gave the day an even more medieval touch.

Afterwards, we got in the car and headed north, crossing back into Northern Ireland. First stop: Spelgadam. The view of the artificial lake was nice... but not worth writing a poem about. It was more of an excuse to stretch our legs.

The next mission was Newcastle. There, instead of waves, we found a kilometre-long traffic jam. Just as we entered, we saw a free parking space, took it, and walked to the centre... and, the truth is, we were faster than the cars.

We went into a pub where Dad and Uncle Joan planned to eat, but it was packed with men in kilts (most likely due to some event) and the atmosphere was so noisy it felt like a stadium at rush hour. They asked for the menu, saw the prices, and left with empty hands as empty as their stomachs.

The town seemed divided by types of restaurants: a luxury area for brave wallets, another of ice cream parlours, and another of more informal bars. It was in the latter where they finally ate, and the best part: I could go in too! Everything was delicious and didn't scare the wallet.

We took a walk to the end of the town, then back to the car and from there, the road to an old acquaintance: the car park in the forest near Belfast. When we arrived, there were barely three or four campers, but throughout the afternoon more arrived until we totalled about eight. Now, with everything calm, it's time to sleep and recharge our batteries… as long as the wind doesn’t decide to repeat its performance.