Day 25: Friday November 4th, 2011
In the morning, I had a tearful goodbye to Jess and Jordan and was off to Belfast. I had two trains, a ferry and hopefully another train once at the port of Belfast.
I bought a five pack of bagels that got me to Stanraer, a small port town on the west coast of Scotland. The train trip was pretty, and once on the ferry, I had a great view of the water. The ferry itself was super nice, like a family cruise boat with a movie theatre, restaurants, bars and wi-fi. The movie was something stupid for kids, so I chatted with Mom on the phone and had more writing and internet time.
Once I got to the port of Belfast, I realized my ticket didn’t get me into Belfast central, which was where my directions to the hostel were oriented towards. Oops. So I took a bus into the city centre, having no idea where to get off. But I asked a woman on the bus, and as luck would have it, she used to live in Issaquah and promised to give me directions with the help of her Mom when we got off the bus. People are that nice in Europe. She also let me know I was in Belfast at the perfect time: the MTV EMA awards were this weekend and in Belfast, hosted by Selena Gomez. Justin Bieber and horde of other musicians were in the city to play and accept awards. I had no idea.
Off the bus the woman and her Mom gave me directions, but I got lost anyways and made it to Belfast central and took directions from the official, which included getting on the train. Once I had a map and knew my way around, I knew this was pointless and I could’ve walked it, but my hostel, as always, proved well outside the city centre. Once at Lagan Backpackers (which happened to be a place that Kimpossible used to work at, cooking the breakfasts), I was my usual sweaty and stressed self.
Due to the EMA’s happening on Sunday, I booked an extra night upon my arrival. Good move. In my room, I met a few New Yorkers/Pennsylvanians that were studying in London but go on random weekend trips throughout the school year. I didn’t see them that night, but they reappear later that weekend. I also met two Aussies, Paul and Mary Anne. They invited me out for a drink later, after I got my dinner.
As recommended by the hot lady at the front desk, I went to Chalco’s, a place with legitimate Mexican food. I had a steak fajita with salsa, pico de gallo, guacamole, rice, beans, cheese. Heaven. Hadn’t had anything like that for awhile, and I needed it.
Then I returned to the hostel and met up with Paul and Mary Anne. The two were bickering like an old married couple and figured they had been travelling together for awhile and I was the awkward third wheel, but nope, they had met that day on the Giant’s Causeway tour yet basically knew everything about each other’s lives.
They’ve been very excited to see how I describe them and our time in Belfast on the blog, and now that I’ve come to it, I’m getting performance anxiety, unlike Justin Bieber and the chick he got pregnant after 30 seconds. I heard about this anecdote from Paul (who reckoned most men would consider 30 seconds and a pregnancy “pretty good,” which still makes me laugh). Paul is a married middle aged man with two kids who, while on business, prefers to stay at hostels to meet people and get a better feel of the city he’s staying in. I have to say, at first, I was wary, but Paul was hilarious, nice, smart and he has it right. When I’m his age, I hope I’m doing the same thing. You get to save money for the important stuff (food and beer and sightseeing) and get to meet delightful young people like Mary Anne and myself.
Mary Anne is a bit older than me, and has had sex while skydiving. She was dating a German guy for a long time who broke up with her because she was Plan B, worked on the Isle of Man in Scotland and has been travelling awhile, and has a sister who’s published a couple novels while stealing scenes from Mary Anne’s own life (sounds like something I do). She’s no slouch herself: she’s savvy and looks at ladies vaginas all day in some medical capacity (I blame the Guinness; I know she’s in physio or related to the physical therapy field, but not sure how that relates to vaginas. Maybe she can enlighten us in the comments).
What made me knew they were alright was when Mary Anne related a story from earlier, and while it might not be funny, I have to mention it. Due to the hysteria surrounding the EMA’s, the Bieber-mania and hordes of preteen girls roaming around, it was the talk of the town, and when asked what they were doing tonight, Paul smugly answered that they were going to see “Snow Plow.” He meant Snow Patrol.
So off we went to try and see Snow Plow or someone rehearse or try and catch a sight of Bieber’s luscious locks. There was no rehearsal that night, so instead we went to the oldest pub in town, The Crown, which retained all of its old style architecture and feel. I have my first Guinness of Ireland there, and it starts a sordid love affair. I never really liked Guinness back home, in fact, I kind of despised it, but I really can’t believe how wrong I was. You always hear that Guiness is so much better in Ireland, and in particular Dublin (more on that later), and you kind of roll your eyes, but it’s fucking true. It’s smooth, creamy and delicious, and at least for me, doesn’t seem as filling. So I drank a lot of it. I’m interested to try it back home, but may prefer to leave it be and save it as an Ireland thing, unlike what I did with Brahma and Five Alive.
At The Crown, Paul ended up chatting with two Irish people at the bar for a long fucking time. Soon we were joined by them. Paul said he was trying to lose them, but that didn’t happen. They were Liam and Fiona. Liam loved me, Fiona hated me. When Paul met them, he was ordering drinks, and was ordering a coke for himself. Fiona pompously asked who the coke was for, and Paul lied and pointed to me and explained I was “American” as if that explained everything. She responded vehemently, “fucking Americans.” It probably didn’t help that I had my Superman shirt on, as always. This forced Paul to have to order another Guinness for himself.
Liam was a Belfast native who was now working in London and making a visit back home. It may have been his super thick glasses but it seemed that he became teary eyed when I asked him if he wanted to move back home (he did). He also apparently has the hots for Fiona and has known her all his life and never gone in. Talk about blue balls. Fiona was drunk off her ass, so he should’ve gone for it that night. All drinks go out to Liam tonight.
After a couple drinks we returned to the hostel, new friends and travel buddies. It was a great night.
Next: Another tick off the UNESCO checklist, the Giant’s Causeway