Getting to Belfast

Okay, so I spoke too soon! Remember that awesome First Class Train ride? Well, I deserve this for getting too pompous! Not long after I was done writing my last blog I noticed that there was a lot of chatter from behind me. The ride was peaceful until this point. A bunch of old women were standing in the hallway of the train and they were complaining about having to stand. Well, the First Class cabin was pretty empty. I had a whole table to myself with three empty seats around me. The guy on the other side of the train was seating by himself as well and was dressed very nicely. You could tell he wasn't up for chatting and just wanted to read his paper. Well, I almost started to get annoyed with these ladies who were all Irish, loud, and a headache to listen to. As I listened I overhead them complain about how their seats were double-booked and they couldn't sit in their pre-paid reserved seats. They made them stand in the hallway of the First Class cabin!! I guess they didn't want them in First Class because they would disturb the other passengers....who probably paid a lot of money to be there. Well they finally let them in the First Class cabin. I was torn. I felt bad for my business friend who wanted his quiet and I sure was enjoying it too. However, you can't expect these little old ladies to stand for 2-hours to Dublin. Well, I'm glad they let them on, but the ladies would still not stop complaining and they were loud the entire way to Dublin. My only thought is be grateful and be respectful. Anyway!

We got to Dublin early so I was able to grab some lunch and catch the early train to Belfast. The bus ride ended up being 3-hours long and I sat next to a guy who was coughing the entire way. I did pull my beanie over my eyes and got some good sleep though. Oh, and there was a little girl who was crying the ENTIRE time.....and not just crying, but screeching crying! It hurt my ears.

So, my bus ride to Belfast was far from enjoyable. I felt that maybe this would be a foreshadow of what was to come. Belfast does not have the best reputation and it has some radical groups who still fight with Ireland. I don't know a whole lot about it, but my plan was just to not talk about Ireland with anyone. There was a little side of me that was hesitant about going to Northern Ireland for this reason. Well, I got there and I must say.....it was pretty nice. I grabbed a cab to the hostel and asked the driver, "Is it pretty safe to walk around at night in Belfast?" and he said, "Safe? Belfast has got to be one of the safest cities in Europe!" I'm sure that was the half truth.

Once I got everything situated at the hostel I took advantage of my one evening there. I walked the several blocks to the City Center and found a cool looking pub called, "The Crown" where I had a beer called, "Grolsh". I asked the bartender, "Grolsh? I've never heard of it so I'll have to try it." He said in his thick Irish voice, "Oh Grolsh, they call it the Bang-Me Beer because when your done all you want to do is go home and bang the wife." I thought to myself, "Thanks, thanks, I didn't need to hear the last part." But, I will say that when he said it, it was kind of funny with the accent and all. I just love accents!

The Crown

The Crown was a pretty cool bar. It's almost entirely made out of carved wood. They have these little rooms that are semi-private for small groups of people to eat and drink. Pretty Classy! It felt like an upscale western saloon. However, there was no one really to talk to, the bartenders were odd, and it was kind of touristy. So, I moved on.

I took a good long walk around the city. It's dark by this point. I'm thinking to myself, "I'm walking around Belfast at night. This is crazy!" The more I walked the more I felt comfortable with Belfast. It's a fricken awesome city! Pretty clean, safe, and very beautiful. Their City Hall building was pretty sweet I thought.

City Hall

City Hall

I was beginning to like Belfast. In fact, I was really starting to like it. The kicker is when I stopped for a bite to eat at Laverty's. The football (soccer) game was on so it was full of young people cheering. A little loud, but it didn't seem touristy to me. This place was big! I headed to the back to order some food from the bar. I got chatting with one of the bartenders who was one of these people who I could really connect with me. He was from Belfast, but he worked for a while in Chicago until his visa expired. We chit chatted about all sorts of different things. I knew he liked talking with me because he was the manager and was busy running around, but every time he had a break he'd come back and we'd talk more. We talked about our favorite American beers good German beers. We agreed on a lot. As we were talking I noticed a jar behind him that looked like it had some odd puffy white balls in it. I asked, "What are those?" He says, "Oh, those are pickled eggs." I thought, "I've heard of these, but I have never seen them. In fact, the only time I ever head of the them was a reference from an episode of the Simpsons." I said, "I think I need to try one". He pulls out a plate, a knife, a napkin, and the scoops out one egg on the plate. He says, "To some people this is a very disgusting thing to eat. It's purely mental. The thought of an egg in a jar for a very long time just sitting there is hard for some people. For others this is a delicacy." So here I am just staring this thing in the face. I'm partly grossed out, but intrigued at the same time. I pick up the knife and slowly cut into it. By this time the bartender had walked away, but I could see him watching my reaction to the taste from across the bar. I take a bite. Its....its....its...not bad. Not great! But, not horrible either. He comes back, "How was it?" and I say, "Not bad, but I probably won't be eating another one tomorrow". He says, "Yep, I understand". The bartender and I talked some more and then he asked me, "What do you think of Belfast?" I said, "To be honest, I love it. The people are nice, the street are pretty clean, and I feel safe." I felt comfortable continuing, "You know, Belfast has kind of a bad rap in the US". He says, "I know. It's a great city if you stay away from the wrong parts, but even those aren't too bad. Just like any other big city." He paused and then continued, "To be blunt, as long as you stay away from certain topics of conversation you will be safe in Belfast." We laugh and he walks away again. When he comes back he says, "You know you should stick around because in another hour we have a band coming in that is going to play some traditional Irish music and all the football people are going to leave". I look around the busy and loud bar and say, "I'd like that much better." He looks at me, smiles, and says, "I agree".

While I was waiting for the music to start I got talking with these two guys from Belfast named, Michael and Steven. They were about my age and pretty typical Irishmen. Very great to talk with. They really wanted to to know my thoughts on Belfest, but I kept it pretty basic. They were extremely funny and very laid-back. I don't feel I connect very well with many guys. These guys were the type of guys that I can get along with. Just relaxed and funny! We talked for a good hour and then they had to leave. Michael asked if I wanted to join them at another bar, but I declined since I had to wake up early and I was already out later then I wanted to be. I was waiting for the music to start. I would have joined them if it was on the way to the hostel or if I didn't need to be up early in the morning. Plus, my hostel was less than a block away.

The music started and it was extremely good. They played one of my favorite Irish songs too, "The Wild Rover" and I could sing along because I knew the words. There is also this part when you hit your beer glass on the bar. It was fun! I felt Irish! The cool, but weak part of the music was this group of young teenagers. About 25 of them. All from Australia, all loud, and all drunk. When the music played they would get out and dance jigs. It was an odd balance of disrespectful and enjoyable. It sucked because some were getting way too into it and were treating the music like a mosh pit. Yet, it was pretty cool to see a big group of kids who seemed pretty close and could just get out and dance and have fun. I liked that! It reminded me of the old DeMolay days when we'd go out and have a good time. I was never a great dancer, but I did enjoy getting out there with my friends.

Well, by the time the kids started multiplying so I decided that it was my bed time. I had to be up at 4am to grab a cab and then catch that plane to Scotland.

My final thoughts are that I wish I could have spent more time in Belfast. I liked it! I'd also like to come back and see the more of the northern parts of Northern Ireland along the coast. Oh, and one other funny thing. There is a guy who was staying in my room. I never met him because he was sleeping when I arrived and sleeping when I left in the morning. He reminded me of Steven Wright from the movie "Half Baked" as the gy on the couch. Just a funny thought!

Grand Opera House