I met a great guy

---

Sushi in Belfast is good but insanely expensive. We went to Sakura where they have sushi on a treadmill and you pick what you want. I had a few pieces which would have cost me about $11 at home. £17 here! That's $35. Nobody can survive on $35 worth of sushi, unfortunately, so because I was still hungry, we went for curry.

I have to say that nobody can make a curry like the Irish. We eat it all the time. It's fantastic--better than anything I've had in the Indian restaurants in Canada.

Afterwards, we wandered through the streets of Belfast, which are so different now. Years ago, there would have been soldiers with machine guns at every corner and you'd have to have your bag checked before you walked into any of the shops. Now the streets are clean and free of graffiti or any sign of the sectarian violence that has plagued Northern Ireland for so long.

As we waited for the bus in the misty Irish rain, I was complaining about 'the state of my herrr' (hair). As you have probably noticed from the photographs, I am in dire need of a curling iron or a good set of steam rollers but the electric outlets here are as incompatible with my curling iron as I am with Rosie...ha ha. So I have done without. In spite of my really bad hair, I agreed to let Rose take a picture of me sitting like a drowned rat at the bus stop.

It was the strangest thing, but the photo had two ghostly images in it--spheres of light--one of which covered my face as if I'd been hit with a snowball, the other sphere hovered beside my head. Weird. Rose thought it was hilarious and she was laughing and cackling like a hysterical hen.

So Rose took another photo and I ducked, pretending to dodge another snowball. The guy sitting beside us at the bus stop started to laugh. He struck up a conversation with us (which happens all the time here in this place where people are so friendly). His name was Bill. I showed him the mysterious photograph and he laughed.

We all climbed onto the upper level of the double decker bus and sat at the very front. There were only four seats and Rose put her backpack on the seat beside her, which was very selfish of Rose but there you go. Anyway, that left only the double seats on the other side, of which I took one (all this trivial detail will become important later on in the story, I promise). Bill either had to squeeze in beside me or sit behind Rose. He sat behind Rose.

Bill was hilariously funny. He is a musician, plays the piano and sings. He had just come back from performing at a bar in London. He told us about a pub that we need to see in Belfast that has been in operation since the 17th century. He assured me that my hair would blend right into the wallpaper!

As we kept chatting, he confessed that he had just come from a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous and was very proud to say he had been sober for 7 months. We congratulated him, sincerely. He said he only drinks Sprite now... but has to be careful with that because "after two Sprites I'm anybody's." I told him after two vodkas my hair looks fantastic.

Because we hadn't a clue where we were going, he told us he'd let us know where we had to get off, right at the Elk's Inn, which was two stops away from where he was going. As we approached our stop he asked us to join him for a Sprite. Since he was a nice guy and clearly not an ax-wielding murderer, we agreed. We all dashed across the street to get out of the rain and into the pub. We went upstairs to the bar where Bill ordered our drinks. I said I'd meet him at the other side of the bar, where an empty table was waiting.

A minute later I saw him go and say something to a man sitting by the bar and the two of them walked across the bar to my table. Bill sat down, said, "thanks John," and the other man left. Bill said, "I should have told you, I'm blind."

I said, "seriously?"

He said, "yes. I can only see very vague shadows and fog. So when you moved to the other side of the bar, I had to ask someone to take me to you."

Rose said, "how did you know where to get off the bus?"

He laughed and said, "you really screwed me up by taking the front seats (way to go, Rose!!) so I had to count the curves in the road."

I was really impressed because he doesn't seem blind, although he was wearing glasses. Then I remembered him looking at the weird photograph at the bus stop and asked him about that. He cracked up and said, "I was terrified you were going to ask me to take a photo of the two of you."

It was karaoke night at the Elk's Inn so Bill got up and sang "Can't smile without you" by Barry Manilow. He has an awesome voice and was easily the best singer in the bar--even better than the girl who made the windows rattle with her rendition of Pat Benatar's "Hit me with your best shot."

Bill only stayed for a little while but in that time, Rose and I were struck by what a kind and decent man he was. He told me that with his newfound sobriety came unabashed honesty so for the first time in his life he was coming out of the closet and wanted people to know that he is gay.

He said, "so there y'are, Deb. You can tell your friends you did meet a man in Northern Ireland. Too bad he happens to be a blind, gay, recovering alcoholic!"

He left the pub shortly after, and asked us to keep in touch, which we will. Maybe I can find a braille typewriter somewhere.

He was a pretty neat guy.

---

Comments

[Cheryl-Ann]

I love your stories
Hi Deb. I look forward to receiving the messages that you have added a new blog! Keep the stories coming . . . . I just close my eyes and imagine that I'm there with you. Safe travels, Cheryl PS: Brian sounds like a very neat guy indeed!

[deleted_49986]

That was a great little entry to read :) I really enjoyed it. Sound's like you met a gem!