09-03 Northern Ireland 1967

At last, one of those free summers at Ryerson, after two summers obtaining my high school teaching certificate. Off we went as a family to Ireland, with four weeks touring the North and five weeks the South.
Lots of time to visit family members. In the photo, we are visiting McGregor Devon's family. McGregor was Dad's cousin. Carolyn Devon was just a child then, but a friend today, as an adult. Michael Bulloch was named after Michael Devon, McGregor's oldest child.
Then down to Bangor to visit Aunty Mae, grandfather Bulloch’s youngest sister. With her is her niece Margot Turner and her daughter Jacqueline. They are family on the Bulloch side.
We spent a week touring the north and three weeks staying with Uncle Alex, who gave us the use of his Volkswagen for our trip around the country. The photo shows Alex at Port Muck, not far from Belfast.
The kids loved Alex because he was so weird. He shut off the engine going down hills to save gas. And best of all, he turned a single bed into a double bed by sewing large chunks of foam rubber to the regular mattress and putting the additional foam on a series of orange crates. And he threw nothing out. So the kids loved playing with everything he saved, like boxes of bottle tops.
We met all the family before heading off around Ireland going counter-clockwise. They asked where was our first stop and I said Ballycastle. Well you should have seen the look on their faces. You would have thought someone had made a big smell. “Ballycastle”, someone said. “That is where the Catholics go. We go to Port Stewart.”
Cute photo of Kelly at Fair Head about three miles outside Ballycastle. We had had a full week without rain and Peter asked at the hotel restaurant if it ever rained in Ireland. The whole restaurant burst into laughter.
Nice shot of the kids at Groomsport, another breathtaking port in County Down, which is the town where Belfast is located. We bought Kelly a toy hair dryer, and she sat quietly in the back area of the Volkswagen drying her hair before we headed out anywhere in the morning. She copied her mother's movements perfectly.
And, a great photo of Mary taken at Whitehead as we worked our way up the Antrim Coast. There is probably no coastal road as beautiful. And Mary and I have visited over 40 nations during our active life. We just loved the Bed and Breakfast places where we stayed for less than a pound a night with free babysitting. Then off to the pubs and their warm stout and great local music and audience participation. I finally understood why our father was so good at reciting poetry and Irish dancing. It is what he did at the pubs.
When you hit Cushendall, you can see Scotland in the distance. We were busy visiting places like the Giant's Causeway, Bushmills, Portrush and Port Stewart. We tried to walk on the cold sand and wade in the ocean which was like ice in terms of temperature. Could not get over the Irish swimming in such freezing water.
Mary kept saying, “Let me take a picture of you.” I preferred photos of Mary. And such good weather for taking photos and for exploring beautiful Ireland. It was May and June.