We had Tom Tom queued up and ready to guide us to our hotel but as been the case on other occasions, it wasn't that easy. We could see our hotel but couldn't get to it and so around and around we went, at one point finding ourselves in the service entrance area where we got some guidance. Finally we got to the Hilton where he had reserved a one night stay. We save our points, reminds me of the old Green stamp days, and it makes these trips a bit more affordable. They treat us very well and we were thrilled when we got to our room to find we had been given a corner room with ceiling to floor windows just above the river offering not only a water view but that of the hillsides and the city of Belfast!
Our mission on this visit if nothing else was to take the well known Back Cab tour of Dublin. We were literally in the old London style black cab and our driver was our tour guide. This company specializes in tours of the city telling both about the history of the Troubles while showing the scars that remain.
It was shocking. Absolutely shocking to us and I found myself quite embarrassed that I was not more familiar with this history. It did take place in my life time and as an adult. I remember the bombing, I remember that you didn't want to go to Belfast, or perhaps even Ireland, at one point in time but I really didn't understand much more beyond that.
Our driver, Pat, looked really to young to remember this time but he was not. He did remember it very well. And so we went first to the Protestant area driving through the neighborhoods. There were Union Jacks flying around most houses as well as banners giving the appearance of a festival. We later learned that July 11th is the beginning of the 'silly season', it is the time that the Protestants are involved in a lot of patriotic marching and showing of loyalty to the Crown. Pat also referred to the 'marching season' (same as silly season) and as a matter of fact there was marching in the background as we cruised through the neighborhood. And so this time of year,even today in 2013, is a more volatile time where residents can be tense and tempers can flare causing serious ramifications.
As we rounded one corner in this neighborhood we saw a large
‘structure’, a circle built with hundreds of pallets. It was likely 30 feet high and 40 feet in
diameter and was open at the top. There
were 3 men at the top working on the structure and a couple of Union Jacks flew
at their side. There were a lot of
pallets scattered around this ring and we weren't sure what was going to be
done with them. We learned this was
preparation for an annual ‘bonfire’ hosted by the Protestants every year on the
evening of July 11th. During
the evening Irish flags and effigy’s of Irish politicians will be burned in
this bonfire. A few blocks away we saw
another bonfire being built and our guide told us there will be many in the
city and other cities in Northern Ireland on that evening.
From the time we entered this 'side' of Belfast we saw huge murals painted on building and homes. These included one celebrating the notorious Oliver Cromwell who massacred thousands of Irish Catholics in an effort to conquer the island hundreds of years ago. Probably the most haunting, and one later included in this journal, was what is sometimes termed the Belfast Mona Lisa with eyes following you. In this case it is a man in a ski mask pointing a machine gun at the street and I stood to the left, right, below and directly in front of this mural and in fact that gun pointed at me in every case. Haunting!
When I refer to sides I am talking about either side of the 'Peace wall' which of course is a silly name because nothing about this wall has to do with peace. As a matter of the fact the original wall, dividing the Protestants from the Catholics was concrete and about 12' high. Sadly that didn't stop the over fence rocks and bombs and so another 12' of steel was added and finally another 16' of chain link fencing was added. This wall goes for miles and there are actually gates allowing crossing between the two sections that are closed at a certain hour in the evening and on weekends. And more astonishing is that these walls exist in many or all cities in the North of Ireland.
We learned so much more than we can possibly put in this journal and found it so sad to even think about living in all of this hatred. Most often these tour guides remain anonymous about their 'side' of the issue but in our case Pat let us know he was a Catholic. When we mentioned that there were no flags flying on the Catholic side he simply smiled and said "We don't need to fly the flags we know we are Irish....."
To demonstrate to us how very divided they are, he told us he had never even met a Protestant until he was 18 years old. We asked Pat if he thought things would ever change and he responded much as Moses, our driver in County Kerry, that perhaps in another 50 years. They both explained there is still to many people that have experienced the hatred in person and they pass it on to their children and so it goes.
One of the memorial walls quoted those who have been influential for peace in Ireland. There was a quote by Bill Clinton and when we asked about this Pat reiterated what Moses in the south had told us. Bill Clinton is highly reverred here for how he helped them reach peace. Pat said with a lot of emotion, "If it were not for Bill Clinton we would still be shooting each other!"
Prior to our taking leave, and after hearing all this talk about Protestants and Catholic, we asked the obvious question....do you and most people you know attend the Catholic church? Pat answered very quickly that he did not and has not for over 15 years. He said even for his Gram's funeral he only stood outside, "I believe in God but not in the church". He continued that he felt let down by the church in so many ways as do his peers and he used the sexual abuse of children and the cover up as an example.
And so Pat took us to the heart of Belfast, not to far from our hotel, and dropped us on a corner where there was one pub after another all with that old familiar Irish music floating out of their doors. You couldn't help but notice the contrast between this and the hatred and separation we had just observed.
We walked around the city center area and stumbled onto a place called the Cafe Vaudeville. Very strange name for Belfast but we loved the music we were hearing which was more Bruce Springsteen and Van Morrison than Irish. Nevertheless it was a very eclectic spot hearkening to the infamous Cafe en Seine in Dublin on a little smaller scale. We enjoyed some shared yet uneventful food and enjoyed the people watching and the music. Yes, once again there were Hen parties going on, reinforcing my theory that the Irish ladies know how to have a good time.
My favorite was a couple sitting just a few feet away who were obviously local and a bit older than us. I happened to be facing them and couldn't help but think about how very different our lives had probably been and yet in so many ways very similar. We were of the same age group, likely having had a lot of the same experiences.....happiness, sadness, anxiety, love, loss and now at this particular moment we were sharing wine, good music, and simple joy...not all that different at all. Funny, she must have been reading my mind because shortly before we called it a night she made eye contact with me and while tapping her fingers to the music gave me a thumbs up and I responded.
My favorite things about travel......the people!
A post script tonight.... to anyone thinking of traveling to Ireland in the future...don't skip the North as so many do.
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