Day 27: Sunday November 6th, 2011
The night before Mary Anne and Paul and I kind of had our goodbyes, resolving to keep in touch. Paul was off on a merry tour of Ireland and all over the place afterwards, and Mary Anne was visiting a friend somewhere else in Northern Ireland. I only hung out with them for a day, but they’ve proven to be two of the better friends I’ve met thus far, and it wasn’t the last I saw of at least one of them.
Before they left, they told me they each had bed bugs and had gotten it from our hostel. To this point, bed bugs had only been an evil rumor of hostels, and usually, because bed bugs are death to a hostel’s business, they’re taken care of. But this was my (first) bed bug scare.
At the awesome breakfast, I saw Turner again, and met Shane, a New Zealander. They both wanted to go on the Black Taxi tours of Belfast, where an educated driver (they have to go through some sort of testing or even get a degree I think to be able to drive a black taxi) takes you around the famous murals of the city (paintings on the walls of buildings displaying artistic renditions of events with historical significance) and explains the cultural and historical background of the religious troubles the city has suffered. Our driver was Bobby, who was a cool guy with awful teeth. I could’ve gone all day with him, but sadly, it wasn’t more than a couple hours, but we saw a good amount of murals, and the peace wall, where we got to sign our names on it. We learned a ton about the conflict between the IRA (Irish catholic nationalists) and the English and protestants.
Afterwards, Shane and I went to the Ulster Museum, in the botanic gardens in Belfast, an absolutely free museum that was basically the Science Center times 4 with a lot of good info on the Troubles. The Troubles lasted from the riots of the 60s until 1998, and there are still instances of violence, even though many people mentioned how far Belfast has come in recent years. There was a lot of hands on stuff and good exhibits. Compared to others I would see, it’s quaint, but that doesn’t diminish it. I had a great couple hours there, even if I was asleep standing up for parts of it.
The Ulster museum took its name from the red hand of Ulster, one of the provinces of Ireland, and the one with the best story. I actually heard it on the Isle of Skye tour as well. There are many versions and tweaks, but essentially the king of Ulster had two sons and couldn’t decide which was the rightful heir to his throne, so he arranged a boat race, and announced that the first person to touch land would win the throne. The youngest son saw that he was losing, so desperately, he cut off his hand and threw it to land, technically becoming the first person to touch the land and winning the throne. So basically one of Ireland’s provinces’ symbol is a bloody dismembered hand, though it has other connotations today.
Shane was leaving that day, so after the museum we grabbed some food at Maggie Mays cafe, another Belfastian institution. I had a pretty good jam and cream scone, and Shane got me a Bounty milkshake (basically a chocolate coconut candy bar like Mounds). Milkshakes in Europe? No ice cream, not thick. Basically milk and whatever you mix with it. Still refreshing, but not close to the real thing. It was quite cool of Shane to buy me it, and we swapped info, and he was off, and I went exploring Belfast until dark. I had in mind to get to where the Titanic was built and left port (the saying is that the Irish built the Titanic and the English sunk it), but with the EMA’s and the auditorium around the same area, it would be a zoo and a pain in the ass to get there. I saw the Albert Clock, which leans (ooohhh) and St. Anna’s cathedral, two of the major sights of Belfast, but both pretty boring. I hung around a couple of Biebs hordes, feeding on their hunger to see their idol, then stumbled off before being assimilated and conquered.
I returned back to the hostel, where Lucia, because of her odd fascination with Asian food, brought us all to China China, a Chinese buffet. It was fucking awful, and I’m still mad I got talked into going, but that’s where Lucia, Janina and my fellow Americans were going. Then we ambled down to the open stage in the city center and listened to Voice Avenue, a shit opening act, and Snow Plow/Snow Patrol, who while Irish, just weren’t that great live. Basically, without alcohol and not in the actual stadium for the awards, it was boring, so we all went back early. This may have been the first day on my journey where I didn’t have a single alcoholic drink. Yay me!
By this time I did have evidence of bed bug bites, or bites of some kind. I was pretty worried, and unsure what to do without a legit washing machine. So I basically just ignored them as best as I could, leaving Future Andy to figure it out.
I met Sylvia (from Australia of course) and promptly warned her about the bed bugs and went to sleep, probably terrifying her.
Next: DUBLIN.