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Published: August 20th 2007
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I woke feeling great this morning…but would have been the only one. The rest of the crew were feeling a little sorry for themselves, and were at different stages of ‘hungoverness’. Mum was definitely the worst, and had spent the night on the dunny, ‘wanting to die.’ I don’t think she’ll be having any red wine for a wee while J
We had a pretty busy agenda today, the first activity being the hop-on hop-off bus around Belfast. This was a great idea for everyone, including dad, who grew up here for the first 18 years of his life. We all grabbed a spot up the top and cruised around the city.
There were two things that stood out in my mind - the first was the Belfast is a lot smaller than I had imagined. For some reason, I had pictured a large city, like Brisbane or Melbourne, but Belfast feels quite small. The second thing that stood out was that there are still some scary areas in this town. Driving along Falls Road, and seeing the peace line, an intimidating walled walkway that is used to separate the Catholics and the Protestants, was not what I had
expected. This area is truly like a war zone, with barbed wire fences and propaganda murals everywhere. The extremists, from both sides, are pictured as soldiers, or freedom fighters, not the mafia-like, underworld gangsters they really are.
I was quite shocked that dad had been brought up in such a scary community, but dad hadn’t even seen areas like this, and was never amongst the conflict. This is the case for many Northern Irelanders - and even last night, as a riot happened just two suburbs away from our little hoedown in the hut, helicopters swept above, patrolling the area and keeping an eye on things. The conflict may not be in your face, but it is still lurking.
After the bus journey, we had afternoon tea at a very hip, bohemian café, called the Vaudeville. It was once an old bank, but has been converted into something out of the Moulin Rouge, with the world’s largest scones. We met up here with Uncle David, Grandad, Aunty Margaret and our cousin Amanda.
The girls were heading out shopping after the scones, so Kb and I quickly decided to tag along, while the others headed back to David’s
for a rest…some were still feeling a bit under the weather. We weren’t very successful at finding much - it was a case of ‘I know exactly what I want, but can’t find it,’ so we headed to the Crown Pub for tea, before our pub tour of Belfast kicked off.
This was an idea of dad’s, and it’s a great way to learn about the history of the town, while having a few drinks along the way. We met up with our group of about15 people, including 8 of us, and started in the Crown. This is a beautiful pub that I’m sure most people come to see on their travels to Belfast. It has amazing Italian tiled walls and a lot of history - there are cute little booths were the men used to drink, away from the prying eyes of the women. We didn’t have time for a drink here, but we made our way around 6 pubs and had a few Guinness on the way.
Some of the more interesting pubs were Kelly’s Cellars, an old haunt for those men who wanted a united Ireland (Henry Joy McCracken, one of the famous drinkers, was
later hung across the road from the pub for his beliefs), and Biddles Bar, a tiny pub that was built to fit between two massive buildings. The front face is only a few feet wide, and there are several interesting political paintings inside, including one of Ian Paisley (the Protestant - supports English Governmental ties) with a Republican paper poking out from his pocket.
After the pub tour, we quickly checked out one of Belfast’s newer monuments, a huge porcelain fish that represents the future of this country. It is made up of fractured, blue and white pieces of china, which represent Belfast’s history. The locals drive past this fish without even realizing that they can go and read it.
We were all definitely ready for bed, and we headed back home to ponder the day. It was another late night…but they seem to be the norm here.
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