BELFAST - The Fun Continues!

11 May 2012

528

R. Linda:

So once we had the flat iron, we were prepared to carry on. At 9:30 a.m. sharp, we all booked out of The Westbury ready for the adventure to Belfast. Our driver was the same one who picked us up from airport (poor soul) and he was prepared to give it another go. We stuck everyone's baggage in the boot of the Mercedes, then argued about who was sitting where. The van had four rows of seats, and I suggested we alternate each day starting with the Abdullahs behind the driver, then Mam and Da and Ton and meself. BUT Da insisted he wanted to sit up front with the driver so he could tell him where to go.

I was gobsmacked by this, I was. The driver was Irish, he'd been doing this tour thing for years and I did not think he needed a shotgun rider acting the backseat driver. We had one of those already in the form of Dragon, who had no clue where in Ireland she was, but well . . . that didn't stop her from telling the man how to drive. No one objected to this seating arrangement, including our driver (he was being nice), so Da got himself settled in shotgun with a camera ready. He looked the right tourist he did as if he'd never been to Ireland in his life, I tell ya. The rest of us got in, and Tonya told me to sit with me Mam. That was not what I had in mind. I would sit next to her and be treated like (again) I was 10 years old. "No," said I, "I be sitting back here with the love of me life." Tonya tsked at me and I shouted as we pulled away, "So where to first, Joseph?"

"Oh we be goin' first to Monasterboice up dare da Pope held his outdoor mass because of da vision of da Virgin Mary wuz seen in County Mayo at Cnoc Mhuire dat means 'hill of da Virgin Mary', den up ta Belfist City and we'll hit Stormont Estate on the way to yer 'otel we will."

"Wait a minute," Dragon interrupts, "what vision and what open-air mass? I haven't heard anything of that."

Me either, I was like what did I miss? But I had heard, I just didn't pay attention to the story because I be not very religious and it all came back to me as me Mam reminded me she had told it me why back when.

But Joseph was THERE he was!

"Well, it wuz quite a number of years ago it wuz, back in 1879 dat da vision appeared an' den da Pope came over in 1979 to commemorate da ting dere, but because of da troobles, he didn't go to Mayo to Cnoc, but went to just down the road from da ruins fer an open-air mass. I wuz dere I wuz, an dey put oop a shrine where it wuz held dey did."

"And we want to see this why?" Dragon, her Proddy self muttered.

1879 and 1979 a hundredth anniversary I thought to meself. Well, OK then. But this was 2012, and I was assuming nothing be left to see in the open field and Cnoc Mhuire was as he said in County Mayo and we weren't in County Mayo. I was confused. I looked at me tour guide itinerary and nowhere did it mention either event. Hum. 

It dawned on me the driver thought we were all a bunch of 'good' Catholics, and well, four of us were Catholic ('good' in varying degrees) including Joseph, but the Abdullahs (including my wife and excluding Big Tony's wife), are Lebanese Christians, and they are not considered Catholic but some orthodox religion (I believe Greek) that I still be not educated on. The only Proddy in the car was DRAGON, she's a Baptist. So this stuff about the Pope did not have the glorious effect Joseph was hoping for. Even me little apple-cheeked, grey-haired Mam didn't really care to see a field where the faithful HAD been. If they were still there, well then yeah she'd be all about it. Oi! As to me Da, he be the most non-religious man I know. He sleeps on Sundays, hasn't seen the inside of a church since he was five, and practices "his faith" in his heart (so he says when he isn't busy doing something that requires his undivided attention, which is all the time). He more recently deems himself a "retired Catholic."

So while me mind was stuck on Cnoc, we were on our way north. I noticed something rather bizarre, me Da and Big Tony, along with Tonya were snapping pictures as we went. One of them would see something, and point, saying, "Oh look at that!" hoping Joseph would slow down, but he seemed to step on the gas pedal and speed up so I was quite certain their pictures were blurred. I was thinking to meself that Joseph had come to the conclusion he was driving a bunch of Presbyterians around and he wasn't exactly happy about that.

While all this was going on, the Dragon started sneezing up a storm. She did not know what be wrong with her, she did not have a cold, so . . . I look out the window and all I see is yellow gorse up and down the highway and the fields. It is in bloom everywhere from April to October. She had an allergy kicking in big time. Oh, she was in for a good time of it, and I didn't tell her what it was that was causing the sneezing fits. I couldn't bring meself to do it. No, I sat there rubbing me hands together in glee and at the thought of a sneezing, wheezing Dragon, when suddenly she noticed the yellow blooms.

"Oh my, look at all those beautiful yellow bushes, reminds me of forsythia back home. I'd love to have a bouquet." She said wistfully and I tried not to snicker, but Joseph went and gave her a why not on picking them and spoiled me image of her among the gorse bloody and sneezing.

                                                                                  

Gorse from our speeding van

"Madame, those are called gorse they grow wild all over but ye rarely see dem on da west coast. Dey have torns in dem and ye'd rip yer skin off ya would. Dey tried to eradicate dem some years ago but dere wuz an outcry by da naturalists to let em' grow so dey have coom back wid a vengeance." Said the informative Joseph.

I made a note to self: Tell Wolfie not to come back to Ireland the bane of his allergies be back in full BLOOM. Anyway, here be a few pics of the lovely thorny yellow bushes.

      

Up close gorse -- on the Antrim coast

As we drove on past Drogheda in County Louth, we turned off for Monasterboice (Mainistir Bhuithe) which be a place where the tallest Celtic crosses in all of Ireland are to be found. It be the ruins of an old monastery but mostly it be a cemetery plain and simple. The rain had left us and the day was glorious as you can see from the gorse pictures, so at least we weren't going to be creeped out with dark crosses against a stormy sky. But first, we drove on down the road to "the shrine" which I guessed Joseph thought was a try at religious redemption for the carload of Protestants in the backseat. And, when we stopped in front of it, none of us could believe an open-air mass for hundreds was given on that spot. It was right next to the road it was, and someone had erected a monstrosity of a steel structure ending in a cross way up in the air and there were flowers and cards still left at the base. We opted not to get out (at the chagrin of Joseph) and none of us took a single picture. It was WHY? So he saw this was not going well and turned around and we headed for Monasterboice. He must have been thinking us the worst Protestants he ever had to haul around. But that wasn't it, unless you were a fan of the papacy or a religious fanatic, you wouldn't be impressed.

Though Mam vaguely remembered something about this from long ago and Joseph was hopeful, but then she wasn't sure. Oh well.

Upon arriving at Monasterboice, as soon as we got out the rooks started their screeching. I want to know why it is those big black birds seem to live in cemeteries? With the screeching of the birds we walked down the old gravel path to the crosses and the round tower or ruins. I was waiting for Tonya to quip, "See one cross you've seen em' all," but instead she had the camera going and took some very good shots. I will put a few here for you. But the highlight was the faery well where a stone table had pebbles written out that said, "Come to me." I immediately grabbed Dragon and told her someone had left her a message in the small courtyard. She was not amused (I have a photo of THAT too that I'll add).

                                                                                    

A little info on the place for you   

                                                                                     

The spell table

                                                         

One of the tall crosses

                                                                                         

Round Tower

 
                                                                                    

The Shamrock Cross

So now that I shared the cemetery with you, we were coming out of the place when what should have pulled up but a bus load of tourists from Dublin. I had to laugh I did, the bus was not only insulting, but it was what most foreign visitors expect to find and well here it is!
  

                                                                                 

Yes indeed!

In the States, especially on St. Patrick's Day, the police in Lowell/Lawrence, Massachusetts, have been known to roll out another kind of paddy wagon to collect the drunken populace.

Anyway, we were rolling on toward Belfast when we got near to me hometown of Newry. I could see Mam was thinking about having us stop at the abode for a cup of tea, but she was too much enjoying the "tour" to suggest it and instead came out with this: "Ye noo dey found a bomb in Newry bigger den da one wuz set off in Enniskillen all dose years back." And if that wasn't enough, she continued, "An' dey found two smaller ones in Nort Belfist too."

Oh goody, I thought sarcastically, this will not go over well with the Abdullah family. And sure enough, the Dragon shifted in her seat and Tonya's forehead creased as she looked at me Mam hard. I was trying to think how to fix this, but then Joseph piped up.

"Well, ye noo it be da fault of dem hooligans da Real IRA dey call demselves. Dey haf nuthin' better ta do but cause trooble and sell droogs."

"An' make bombs." Mam helped it along.

"Yeh dat too. We finally got dat peace initiative goin' and dey are tryin' ta take us back to da old times."

Well, the Dragon awoke from her bomb shock to ask a barrage of questions that got into a discussion on the fact we were on our way to a city with a history. Not the kind of history you want to take pictures of either. After trying to explain the differences that a heated population fought over for longer than anyone can remember, Joseph says this:

"I don't have ye doon for the political tour but I'll take ye dere anyway. Show yas da Falls area and den we'll go inta da Shankill."

Political tour? SHANKILL? Are you shitting me? I have not been in Belfast since the Peace Accord started in earnest, so I still was thinking barbwire and barricades. Gates to one part of the city and to the other. I was wondering how welcoming a van with Republican plates would be slowly tooling around the Shankill. Me eyes must have been bugging out of me head because Tonya was looking at me with curiosity trying to read me face.

And into the city, we went. First, we stopped off to stretch our legs and bathroom breaks at the Belfast City Hall. We all separated for lunch. Me Da and Mam went on down to Kelley's Cellars for what I joked was probably a liquid lunch, and Dragon and Big Tony disappeared into the mall and found Nandos. Tonya and I came across McCrackens Cafe and had a lovely lunch of fish and chips. I had to wonder why it was we never ate a meal together so far. Not that I was complaining mind you.

So an hour later with no time to look around, we were packed back in the Mercedes and off we went. I had been hoping the political tour was a joke, but as we drove further into Belfast I saw exactly where we were going. We were in the Falls (Catholic) area and Joseph was all about Bobby Sands, a martyr for the cause. I knew there was a famous mural of him and pointed it out and suddenly they were shouting "STOP THE CAR!" They all got out to take pictures of it. I was stunned. OK. When they got back in, I told them there was another one if they cared and yes they did, and we stopped at the next one and everyone out, click, click, click, get back in, look at me like where next? I was thinking to myself, "People how can ya not SEE them!" Look out your windows.

I tell ya! So here be the two IRA murals plus one more Joseph pointed out.

Joseph liked this one

Falls area of Belfast

Bobby Sands

What disturbed me more than anything about the Falls, is the amount of businesses that be closed down, including a few locals. I didn't see many people out and about and it was sad to me as it is evident not a whole lot has changed.

We drove up to the Royal Hospital where Joseph told of people being shot and hurt from the battles being brought there and then over to St. Annes to see the biggest Celtic Cross ever on the front of a church. It is a Protestant church of which Dragon argued that the Church of Ireland was Catholic. Oi! But she was taken with that cross and couldn't stop talking about it. So here it is so you can see why she was fascinated.

                                                                                  

St Annes AKA Belfast Cathedral

Then we turned toward the Shankill where many a Catholic's nightmares are to be found. At the first turn, we came down just above the wall that separates the Catholic side from the Proddy. There be a tall iron fence on top of the wall and then wire on top of that. If that doesn't make you feel unsettled, I don't know what will. We got to the checkpoint and of course, the British soldiers were gone and the gates were gone, but the guard booths were still there. Here have a look.

                                                                                   

Entering the Shankill area of Belfast

 

Low fence with wire on top still

 

Driving down the wall, notice barrier and fencing on top

If you get out and look closely at some of the "graffiti" you will notice they aren't just designs on the wall.

The wall continued

At one point in our bloody history, there was a group of individuals who would pick up Catholics and butcher them in the wee hours. They were called the Shankill Butchers and were known to use black cabs for their nefarious and murderous acts. The photographers in the car wished to get out and take pictures of the Proddy side of the wall and as they did (our van pulled over with our southern plates) what should come up the street but a black taxi. The man came up close enough that he stopped. Was a strange moment, he let us take his picture and then proceeded on. Odd that was. 

                                                                                   

Black cab -- just the sight of one brings back bad memories of the Troubles

So after that, we all piled back in the Mercedes and headed down the road. On the way, the contrast from Falls to Shankill was quite apparent. While on the Falls side, we saw a few (not a lot) of the tricolour flags of the Republic, on the Shankill side, Union Jacks and lots of them, so you knew what area you were in for sure. The street was full of shoppers, shops open, and very prosperous on that side.

But in case you weren't sure where you might be, all you need do be look around and you'll see this and this, to know you are in Unionist/Loyalist territory.
  

                                                                               

UVF (Ulster Volunteer Force) mural

                                                                                 

The 36th Ulster Division the red hand of Ulster

And that concluded our part of the political tour and gratefully we headed out of Belfast proper to where the Titanic was built. Of course, I was looking at the Titanic in the shape of Dragon the entire time. I was thinking how nice it would be to be able to launch her . . . well one can dream!

Gabe

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