For our last walk in Ireland I chose Belfast Castle. Not a castle built for royalty, it was built in the 19th century by the 3rd Marquess of Donegall. And in 1934 it was presented to the City of Belfast, which usually indicates financial difficulties on the part of the owner.

The castle was not open to the public on the day we were there, in preparation for a wedding that evening. But we weren’t there for the castle, which is a good thing. The visitor center was extremely limited in scope. The brief video wouldn’t play. The staff member shrugged. Sometimes it does. Sometimes it doesn’t.

We were there for the hike. Belfast Castle was built on the face of Cave Hill and offers fantastic views of Belfast and Belfast Lough, especially at the top of the hill at McArt’s Fort, which today is just a few rocks on a promontory. I’d love to tell you more about its history, but there were technical difficulties at the visitor center….

It was the perfect hike for us. Three hours, 900 feet of elevation gain to get the heart pumping, gorgeous views, and sunshine.

When we got to McArt’s fort, there were four guys trying to assemble a kite. Marcus watched them struggle until he couldn’t stand it any longer. “Who’s the engineer?” he asked. They all laughed. Not an engineering gene amongst them. 

“I’m a clinical psychologist,” one of the guys quipped. “I can help if you need to know how we feel about making this kite.” They all laughed.

“What kind of a knot are you planning to use on that harness?” Harness?

Marcus put down his hiking sticks and shed his camera. I knew we were in for the long haul. The guys watched in wonder as he pulled his multitool from one of his cargo pockets, cut string, and tied knots that would knock the socks off a sailor.

“Should these stays be bowed inward or outward?” he asked. Stays?

“I think it would be more aerodynamic if they bowed inward.” Sure, sure, they chimed in as they watched over his shoulder.

Thirty minutes later, the kite was constructed and Marcus was instructing them on the rudiments of flight. Their eyes glazed over.

“You know, trying to launch a kite on the edge of a cliff is a bit dicey,” he counseled. “You might want to try it on more level ground, where you have room to run with it.” Yeah, thanks mate. We’re good. Cheers!

We continued our walk. Every now and then we’d hear a cheer in the distance and look back. The kite would get some wind, and then nosedive back to earth.

Of all the things I love about Ireland, I’ll miss walking the most. Every good-weather day (probability of rain less than 50%) we’d find a trail within 50 miles of where we were. We were out in it three or four times a week. And with each walk you never knew what, or who, you’d find. As with this three-month journey of ours, there’s an adventure waiting around every bend in the trail.