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Published: August 6th 2007
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We made it up to Belfast Thursday morning. Since there aren't a lot of sights to see -- just Northern Ireland joie de vivre -- we decided just to spend a day here, before heading up to the more scenic coastal areas. Sadly, since this is technically a British territory, we have to spend Pounds here... and the exchange rate is even worse than that of the Euro (two to one). But besides that, everything else is dandy. There's a lot of energy here right now, with the ruling Protestant unionist powers now sharing the government with the Catholic Republicans. Just two days ago, the leadership was sworn in. Will it bring an end to decades of violence and hatred? Maybe even the eventual reunification with the Republic? Who knows. But there's a sense of optimism and hope here.
We got lost driving into Belfast and Erin went into a convenience store to ask directions... only to discover she was on Falls Road, a Catholic stronghold and one of the more famous flashpoints in the Northern Irish conflict. Despite all the political change and the mood of hope in Northern Ireland currently, the man at the store started to give
Belfast City Hall
In all its Victorian glory. directions, but then stopped and said we shouldn't go that way, through a Protestant neighborhood- those people wouldn't help us at all. So, old feelings obviously still run deep here.
We had some time to kill before our black taxi tour of the murals, so stopped at Queen's University and the Royal Botanical Gardens to get a dose of scenery. While Kevin was taking pictures at the gardens, he was stopped by a wild-haired old man on a mountain bike, asking where he was from. Turns out this guy is like Ireland's John Nash (A Beautiful Mind) or something-- brilliant and totally crazy. Kevin got to hear a long lecture about Lord Kelvin and other famous Irish scientists, and the high % of Nobel Prize winners from Belfast. Ten minutes later, Erin eventually found them talking and came to help out... but also got sucked into his lecture. After another ten minutes -- don't ask us how -- we escaped (though he did give us his address so we can send him a postcard from LA) and went downtown to City Hall, a fine example of Victorian architecture. Given Belfast's history, it really does feel more English here than
Bill
They love their Clinton here in Belfast. Irish." It's a great city to walk in, and is more touristy than we expected... it seems like it's finally getting over "The Troubles."
We met our cab driver for our guided black taxi tour of Belfast. His name was Martin, and we really wish we had gotten his picture, because he was fantastic. We had yet to meet a ridiculously stereotypical Irishman on our trip... well, here he was. He had that great Scotch-Irish accent (that everyone in Northern Ireland seems to have), and spoke a mile a minute. He also had a slew of stock phrases that he'd repeat often: "'Dya get it? 'Dya get it?" and "This isn't like those other tours -- you're learning something, see, you're learning something. You're learning something!!" and "ARSEHOLE!" (screamed whenever someone cut him off in traffic). But he knew plenty about the Belfast Murals. The Murals ended up being fascinating -- well, more the Catholic ones than the Protestant ones. They've been painted by each side of the conflict to express everything from deep-seeded hatred to deep-seated sadness... though there are a few positive ones here and there. In any case, they're all meaningful and well-done. It was easy
Queen's University
The beautiful Queen's campus. to see what side our driver was on -- the Protestant murals were full of errors, which he was always eager to point out in great detail. Our funniest moment with Martin: as we were parked on a curb listening to him, some kids came up and looked in our tinted windows. They couldn't have been older then 8 years, tops. Anyway, Martin saw them and opened the door. "Whaddya want, kids?" They looked a little confused by this man, then mumbled something. (They were actually kinda adorable.) Martin answered him -- with the accent, it was impossible to tell just what he said -- and after the kids looked even more confused, he started yelling at them, and yelling hard. The kids just stood there, trying to figure out what this odd little man was screaming at them about. Finally they started laughing and ran away. Martin shut the door. "These days, people get the wrong idea when a man talks to children... so it's best just to send them on their way." Priceless. (Though it was also great when Martin noticed a friend driving a truck next to him in traffic and rolled down the window to yell
Botanical Gardens
(Unfortunately, you can't see our friend on his mountain bike in the photo...) at him at the stoplight. "I got two Americans in the back!!")
Since Erin already knows quite a bit about Northern Irish politics and the history of the murals, she was hoping for a more intellectual and less obviously partisan tour of the area... but Kevin was so highly amused by the entire adventure that it was all worth it.
After the tour, we did some more walking around downtown, then got back in our car and drove up to Belfast Castle. It's up on Cave Hill, overlooking the city, and provides great views of the area. The gardens were nice as well... bonus points for the cat mosaics! We thought about having dinner there, but since Erin was still feeling under the weather, opted to "take away" (i.e., take out) a pizza and eat back in our B&B room. The next day was going to be a lot of driving, so we finished off dinner and got an early night's sleep...
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