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A Titanic start and a whiskeyed finish

The alarm rang cruelly early, but when you’ve booked six people into the Titanic Experience for 9 a.m., you either rise with purpose or you sink without trace.

Belfast’s pride and heartbreak, the Titanic, was built right there in the docks, and the museum is a proper immersion—plenty of information, slick displays, and just enough drama to make you feel you’ve stepped into history without getting your feet wet. I nearly emerged with a captain’s cap, but a calming cup of tea proved more seaworthy for my wallet.

From maritime tragedy, we shifted smoothly to liquid triumph: Bushmills. With time to spare before our afternoon distillery appointment, we fortified ourselves with an outstanding burger-and-IPA combo. Proof, if any were needed, that Irish hospitality extends well beyond the pint glass.

Our B&B, a mere 5 km away, welcomed us like long-lost cousins. Luggage deposited, we hatched a plan for the evening: procure supplies for a makeshift snack in the pub downstairs. (Because nothing says civilised travellers like sneaking your own picnic into licensed premises.)

At precisely 3:30 p.m.—punctuality being the politeness of whiskey-lovers—we presented ourselves at Bushmills Distillery.

The tour was a sensory delight, particularly the air itself: warm, malty, and faintly intoxicating even before the tasting. Naturally, the finale involved a glass or two. For me, a 12-year-old Bushmills: smooth, complex, and just cheeky enough to suggest another might follow later.

Evening saw us reunited with Guinness at our B&B’s bar, where time flowed as generously as the taps. Conversation, laughter, and another small nip of that 12-year-old rounded off the day. By the time we headed upstairs, the world was pleasantly blurred and very, very Irish.

Tomorrow may come early again, but tonight, we sleep like sailors after shore leave.

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