The first time I visited Belfast in February 1997 it was cold, dark, and raining. When I arrived at the hostel,
Arnie's Backpackers, I was welcomed with a hot drink and a fire in the fireplace and made to feel at home. I spent a few days there and, besides wandering around Belfast, I went on the 'Troubles Tour' in a Black Taxi, which gave quite an interesting perspective on the Northern Ireland problem. In wandering around the city, I encountered many military patrols, on foot and in armoured cars, with weapons at the ready. These made me feel a little uneasy, but I felt safe - in an authoritarian sort of way. When I arrived in Belfast this time, seven years later, I thought I'd take a look around to see how things had changed.
I arrived by rail from Derry, where I had spent a few days exploring the Bogside, the area where Bloody Sunday took place, and the city walls. Emerging from the train station at the Europa Hotel in Belfast, I saw the
Crown Liquor Saloon across the street, where I'd had lunch when I was here last time. The Crown dates back to 1826 and has quite an ostentatious facade and interior of wood and marble. With the Europa Hotel the most bombed hotel in Europe, I couldn't help but think of the reaction of the patrons having a pint in the Crown when the bombs went off. "Oh, there goes another one." Pause. "Another Guinness please."
Turning right out of the station, I walked down The Golden Mile towards Queen's University. I knew of two hostels in Belfast - Arnie's and the Belfast International Youth Hostel. I decided to go back to Arnie's because it's a nice little townhouse located in a neighbourhood near Queen's University. The International Youth Hostel looks like a detention centre. I arrived at Arnie's and booked a bed for a few nights. Unfortunately, Arnie was off on vacation, and I didn't get the same friendly feeling about the place I experienced before. After a couple of days I was feeling a bit disappointed because I hadn't met anyone at the hostel to explore Belfast with. Then Australian Paul walked in. We'd met briefly on Inishmore and again in Derry. He was going to be here a few days before heading off to Scotland. Finally, someone to wander with!
Later on that day, Paul and I met some other newcomers at the hostel - two brothers from Australia. That night we corralled another few people from the hostel and went to a student pub around the corner called The Parlour for a pint or two. Paul and I were keen to take the Black Taxi Tour, and we convinced the Brothers Oz to join us. The next morning, we added another to our ranks, an American woman, and booked the tour.
Much to my surprise, when the taxi showed up at the door and our guide got out, it was Walter - the same guy who had given me the tour seven years ago. This tour, however, was quite a bit different from the last one. We spent the first part of it on the architecture downtown and Titanic history, stopping at the dry dock where it was built and driving past the school the designer had attended. I guess since the movie, which I'm happy to say I haven't seen, the whole Titanic thing is big business for Belfast. For some unknown reason, the people of Belfast are quite proud that the Titanic was designed and built there. It was clear that the tour now had more emphasis on Belfast as a city, rather than just The Troubles, and it was no longer billed as 'The Troubles Tour', but rather 'The Black Taxi Tour of Belfast'.
After the Titanic Tour, we drove through the city to see some of the murals around Falls Road and Shankill Road, the hard-core Republican and Loyalist areas of the city. Some of the murals were quite striking, not only because of the subject matter, but because they are quite artistic and well done. It's very interesting to see what kind of message these present to the viewers. Based on the murals I've seen, on this tour, the previous one, and in walking around myself, it seems that a lot of the Republican ones are based around themes of freedom, justice, and the hunger strikes, whereas the majority of the Loyalist ones depict masked men with rifles and slogans such as 'Conflict not Compromise'. Another thing that really struck me this time was the number of murals by groups such as the Ulster Young Militants [UYM] and the Young Citizen Volunteers [YCV]. I suppose it's the responsibility of a parent to pass your beliefs and values, or lack thereof, on to your children.
Nearing the end of our tour, we stopped at 'The Peace Wall' which separates the two communities and wrote messages on the wall. I mentioned to Walter that we'd been down this road before and we talked about the changes around Belfast in the past few years. He asked me what we had seen on the previous tour. We'd had a more varied and in-depth Troubles Tour, stopping at a cemetary where some of the hunger strikers were buried, RPG Alley, and a strongly Republican neighbourhood where we'd encountered a British military patrol. As the tour came to an end, he dropped us off at the Crown Liquor Saloon, where we popped in for a quick pint before walking back to the hostel.
After a little rest, we walked around the corner to the Ulster Museum, which had an excellent exhibition on called Conflict: The Irish at War examining conflict on the island from prehistory to the modern day. The museum also has a big natural history collection, but to me once you've seen one dead, stuffed mammal you've seen them all [although I admit the quagga in the South Africa Museum in Cape Town is rather cool]. I skimmed the history of linen in Northern Ireland display and some of the Inuit artifacts, but skipped the pottery and porcelain.
That evening, most of the people staying at the hostel ended up at a pub called Fibber Magee's at the back of Robinson's Bar, right next door to the Crown. There was a local band playing and it was quite crowded, mostly tourists. Just when we thought we had a bit of space when a group left the pub, about twenty older Americans came in, all very drunk, and parked themselves right behind us. Almost everyone seemed to enjoy the music but me, though the band did a passable version of 'Farewell to Nova Scotia'. Maybe I just needed to get more pints into me. It was the fiddle player that got on my nerves. He was playing out of tune and constantly cramming in as many notes as he could to show off to the crowd - usually ignoring the melody. Then he did the same with the tin whistle. I left when he pulled out his bagpipes.
Music, though, was one of the reasons I'd come to Belfast on this trip. I was supposed to meet up with Ross Martin and Eilidh Shaw - members of the Scottish band Harem Scarem. I'd met them at McCarthy's Fiddle Fair in Baltimore, Ireland earlier in my adventure. Besides being a member of Harem Scarem, Ross is also in a band called Cliar, and Eilidh told me Cliar would be playing in Belfast. When I arrived in Belfast, though, I found that the show, which also featured the Irish band Altan, was sold out. I saw in a "What's On in Belfast" brochure that Cliar was playing an afternoon show at The Linen Hall Library, so I wandered over there, only to find that it too was sold out. Fortunately, I got to talk to Ross after the show and he told me to come that night anyways and he'd arrange something.
That evening, I decided to walk from the hostel to the show, which was being held at Cultúrlann MacAdam Ó Fiaich, the Irish language cultural centre on Republican Falls Road. I walked down Donegall Road towards Falls Road, and to make sure I hadn't missed the intersection, I asked a man on the street which way it was to Broadway.
"Upper or Lower Broadway?" he asked.
I paused and, just as I was about to respond, he said "You're in the Loyalist area now. Where are you going?"
"Oh," I thought, "is that why all the Union Jacks are flying around here then?"
"I'm going to the Irish culture centre on Falls Road," I responded a little sheepishly. I was slightly worried I might have picked a hard-core Loyalist to ask directions to the Irish language cultural centre in the heart of Republican territory.
"Oh, right," he said. "Just go down there to the right and go around the roundabout and you'll see the signs for Falls Road."
Thankfully, he didn't ask me to carry a parcel to the cultural centre 'for a friend'.
When I arrived at the centre, there was a ticket waiting for me, courtesy of Ross [thanks Ross!]. The show was great, even though all the songs and much of the banter was in Irish and Scottish Gaelic, neither of which I understand. Much to the delight of the crowd Máirtin O'Connor, a well-known traditional accordion player, joined Altan for a tune. After the show, Eilidh wanted to go to a session that was going on at a pub called John Hewitt's. So Ross, Eilidh, and I wandered along Falls Road, looking for a taxi. It was just after midnight, and there were no taxies to be found, so we decided to walk. I knew where Donegall Road was since that's the way I'd come earlier, and that's where we thought the pub was located. Unfortunately, it turned out the pub is actually located on Donegall Street, in a different part of the city. So after a 'refreshing' half-hour walk, we found a taxi and Eilidh phoned ahead to a friend with our drink order so we could have a pint when we arrived.
I spent the following day wandering the streets of central Belfast, people watching, and admiring the city's architecture. I was also considering how I was going to get to the Isle of Eigg, off the West coast of Scotland, for the party I'd been invited to by Eilidh. We had arranged to meet in Glasgow on Friday evening, where she would pick me up and drive me to the ferry at Mallaig. I decided to take the ferry from Belfast across to Stranraer, followed by a bus up to Glasgow. The next morning, I went to the bus terminal to get my tickets, and with the luck of the Irish on my side, I got the last seat.
As I boarded the ferry to Scotland, I thought a bit about Belfast and how it had changed since I was last there. I did not encounter one soldier on this trip. There was building going on everywhere, the streets were bustling with people, and the weather was fantastic. Belfast didn't feel subdued this time - it felt alive.
