Lots of change in eight years
26th June 2011
As today is the Twelfth I thought it would be fitting to post the photos I took whilst I was back in Ulster a few weeks ago.
As I have to pass Beauvais airport to get to CDG it is a lot easier for me to fly Ryanair into Dublin than take EasyJet direct into Aldergrove. Dublin also worked out a lot cheaper than Belfast despite having to catch the coach up.
I drove down to Beauvais at the crack of dawn in a fairly heavy fog, which delayed all the morning flights, but only by half an hour or so. Arriving into Dublin I thought we had overshot the country because I could see the ground: it wasn’t raining. Dublin was warm and sunny.
Arriving late offered one advantage; I did not have so long to wait on the Bus Éireann Belfast Express. There was my first hint that things have changed. The Irish motorway now runs right up the coast and into Northern Ireland making the drive a doddle, and the coach was pretty much as fast as you would drive it yourself. There were only about three roundabouts between the airport and Glengall Street Bus Station.
Click on the thumbnail for a larger version
The drive was a trip down memory lane as I came up past places that I recognised. I can remember trying to get past the Carrickdale Inn the night that Ulster won at Croke Park (it was that long ago) thousands of jubilant supporters beeping horns and just generally getting in the way as they partied all night.
The hills around Newry that used to bristle with lookout points, the wee dry stone walls and everything so very green. We have huge fields in Picardie but much of it is for crops so it can be a bit brown or dust coloured, you have to get into Normandie to really start seeing green fields.
You know you have crossed the border because the road signs change and everything goes from metric to imperial, kilometres to miles. Up the A1 past Banbridge to the Sprucefield roundabout. Marks and Spencer ! And there is a Sainsbury’s there as well now. Buying computer stuff at PC World, it all comes back to me now.
Down the M1 and into Belfast. At the Westlink they have a new, well, balloon looking thingy that may be modern art or possibly just an eye-sore and then the coach came off and went down into Glengall Street depot via a new bus lane.
I had arranged to meet my mate Sam at the Bus Station and at last there was something that I recognised that hadn’t changed. Same old Sam, are we any greyer than all those years ago, I probably am but I don’t think he was.
The sun was out and I was forced to ditch my jacket as we went for a dander around Belfast. For a Sunday the place was buzzing and there were lots of people out on City Hall’s lawn trying to learn how to juggle or just make an eejiot of themselves. It was rather like a village fête.
The main street, Royal Avenue has recently been renovated and looks well apart from the fact that the big plastic bollards were still there from the works which meant trying to take photos was difficult. Being the UK, everything was open on a Sunday afternoon and for once I wasn’t complaining. I like the idea that France closes but it has to be a pain for tourists (Who find that everything is still closed Monday morning).
Thus the phrase : More faces than the Albert clock
We walked down to the Lagan via the Albert clock, which gave us the phrase of mistrust: See him ! Got more faces than the Albert clock so he has. The Lagan bank has been cleaned up and I wondered how many of the flash condominiums that were being built when I left are now lying empty. From near the Waterfront Hall you can see Samson and Goliath the city’s equivalent to Big Ben.
The two cranes are part of the Harland and Wolff yard and are amongst the largest in the world. Goliath stands 96 metres tall, while Samson is the taller at 106 metres. Each can lift up to 840 tonnes 70 metres into the air. The yard is famous for having constructed the Titanic and its dry dock is still the largest in the world (556 × 93 metres).
Enough walking, lets find beer. I did remark to Sam that in the city centre things felt a lot more open as though you could walk into any bar without worrying too much as to what you were wearing (colour-wise). Elsewhere though it would appear that traditions die hard. You would be seen dead wearing green and gold up the Cregah Road.
So there we were having a pint when we noticed lots of flashing blue lights and Police bikes. Then came the drums. Hardly in the town a couple of hours and there was my first Orange Parade in eight years. It brought it home that I was lucky that I hadn’t had to go back two weeks later as the season really got under way. It was already bad enough that there had been serious rioting in the town for a couple of nights.
What you don’t realise when you are away from it all is that much in the Province seems to have remained the same. The bombings, shootings and murders continue, but they don’t get press coverage or are put down to dissidents (Whom I suspect were the official terrorists until we had an outbreak of peace and paying (ex-)criminals to govern us).
That rant aside, I was rather surprised to find that I enjoyed my 48 hours in Belfast. The weather was kind and I managed to potter about taking photos as I went. It was great to catch up with Sam and some of my other friends, though it was a shame that others just couldn’t fit into my pre-arranged timetable. Not my fault !
Despite all my misgivings about going back to Norn Iron I’ll do so again sometime in the future if I can get cheap flights. But to bring me back to earth I was advised when organising my return coach fare — leave plenty of time because they have to close off the border at Newry from time to time because of bomb scares.
Posted : 12 July 2011
