Tuesday, May 06, 2008

Northern Ireland

I've been away from the computer for four days. Here's what happened. On Thursday, I voted for Mayor of London. By the time I left London on Friday afternoon, counting had barely started, and the final results were still a few days off. Now I can spin the story to go like this: I leave London for just a few days, and all hell breaks loose. Rational thought is being suspended and a retired circus clown, bent on banning bendy busses, elected mayor. For all my feigned interest over the weekend, I don't really care. If London is well-run and remains an attractive city, I'll stay. If not, I can leave any time I want. The world is big.

Somehow fitting then that I spent the weekend in a corner of the world that was new to me. I went to Belfast. According to the unvarying reaction I got when I told them, the violence between Catholics and Protestants, between Republicans and Unionists, between those cheering for the Irish and those cheering for the British is still very much on people's minds. It was certainly on my mind. I wasn't quite sure what to expect.

Well, Belfast is like any old boring city. It has a shiny new downtown mall and plenty of redevelopment, cafes and restaurants aplenty, a university with an impressive facade, and a lovely botanical garden. It could make much better use of its waterfront and do with more nightlife, but these are about the only complaints I have after two evenings' worth of strolling through its streets.

From articles I've read I remember a concrete wall sneaking through some neighborhoods. The wall was intended, as similar constructions are in other parts of the world, to bring happiness and prosperity to those living to either side of its drab grey face. Reality, not much surprisingly, is different, and this wall, as all others, mostly underscores hopelessness and defeat.

I didn't see the wall. The closest I came to seeing any traces of conflict was in Londonderry. There, the Unionist minority lived nicely around the historic center of town, whereas the Republican majority lived in a dilapidated neighborhood called Bogside. Between 1969 and 1972, major insurrections broke out in what called proudly itself Free Derry, with barricades being erected and police prevented from entering. Eventually, the army was called in and tanks tore down the hopes of thousands – with little concern for the damage caused. Today, eleven stark murals stand tall to tell the story.

Oh, and I must not forget to mention police stations. Being highly visible and symbolic signs of the presence of the occupying force (as the British were seen by many), they were natural targets for the Republican rebellion. To withstand potential attacks and demonstrate strength, even small police outpost, often just cabins with three rooms and a cell, would be surrounded by gigantic black fences equipped with motion detectors, night-vision cameras and the like. And around it, sheep were grazing.

Yes, Northern Ireland is relaxed and scenic, a place of great natural beauty and mostly unspoiled by mass tourism. The North Coast is stunning succession of high cliffs, sandy beaches and quiet towns. The water is as clear as the air. Just a few miles inland stretch green hills with forests, glens, creeks, and waterfalls. And, as suggested earlier, everywhere are sheep.

The Irish have a reputation of being genial and warmhearted. They also have a way of speaking English that is beyond me. My localized friend had to interpret more than once. All problems dissipated in the pub. Our vocal cords properly lubricated with Guinness we had no problem communicating.


I got to Belfast on the most viciously cut-throat airline in the world. Ryanair is famous for its low prices and infamous for its total lack of service, friendliness or flexibility – and for its hidden fees. Airport check-in costs four pounds each. The first piece of checked luggage costs eight pounds each way, the second 16. Priority boarding adds three pounds and paying by credit cards another five. Traveling the traditional way will cost you a fortune. On the other hand, if you play the system, your fare won't be beaten. My direct flight cost 12 pounds. Round trip. Final cost with all taxes and fees included. And for the first time, I don't find a word to complain about Ryanair.

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