Escape to Dublin - Part I

People who have never flown to Wellington might have thought the flight to Dublin was bad, but I was fine! Arriving was pretty cool, as the main street was bustling with activity and all the Christmas lights were up in very tasteful blues and white. Having worked a really mad day I was keen to find my hostel bed and fall into it, and that only took another 40 minutes.

The next day I enjoyed an early Irish breakfast (don’t tell the locals, but it’s just like an English one!) before climbing on my tour coach to Belfast. Sadly, the PaddyWagon had no heating, so it was a cold collection of nine girlies who headed North. The first stop was a place called Drogheda, which is best known for holding the hung, drawn and quartered remains of St Oliver Plunkett – a martyred Catholic archbishop. After the rather unique bonding experience of seeing his head, most of the group started chatting to each other and it wasn’t long before the trip got more bearable.

We then stopped at Monasterboice – which is a monastic ruin from the 10th century. It was quite a solemn place, although the sun was coming up so it was breathtaking as well – beautiful paddocks and autumn trees amongst old, old, old rocks and moss:


There is a local legend that if a couple can touch fingers around one of the three scriptural crosses they will live happily ever after. I gave it a go, but something was missing…


(Never mind, she’ll be here in January…)

From there it was an uneventful drive across the border into Belfast. The van hadn’t got any warmer, but I found a quick stroll outside was enough to make the van thermal in comparison. Ireland is COLD!!!!

From the van we swapped to a Black Taxi tour around the divided Belfast neighbourhoods. I had been looking forward to this very much, and it was as interesting and sobering as I expected. The first stop was a Protestant estate, and the murals that come up so often in the news:


We spent some time reading the messages, and our guides gave some really good insights into the history of the conflict. I knew a bit from my reading, but saw for the first time that religion has really become an excuse for what is actually a fight about nationhood and class.

After 1690 William of Orange punished the disloyal Irish by confiscating their land and giving it to British loyalists, who immigrated especially to take up the cause. Of course, this put many Irish families into poverty and started the whole horrid cycle. It is plainly apparent to me that by making this about religion, the British government can avoid any connection to the conflict (i.e. how can a secular government be responsible for a religious squabble?). Not good enough.

Of course, the bad has been on both sides. Our tour stopped at a fifteen foot high wall built to protect the Catholic sector of Belfast:


People are invited to write their own peace messages on the wall (a la Berlin I suppose). Amongst the serious stuff, I liked this one (sorry Mum):


We then crossed into the other part of the city, past gates that are closed from 7pm to 7am every day, and all day during the religious marching season. Once inside we visited Sinn Fein headquarters and tried to keep warm walking around in the really pale sunshine.

We then had a three hour lunch break, so myself and my two tour buddies Lavinia (London) and Elza (Cape Town) decided to have a beer in the oldest pub in Belfast – the Crown. The National Trust runs this place – which keeps the prices down and the interior authentic. It was nice and warm inside, and we had a fantastic Irish stew that tasted like it had been simmering all day, and washed it down with the obligatory Guinness. Yum.

Somehow the outside air seemed less horrid after that, and exploring the European Food Market that had spring up around City Hall was a very pleasant experience. We drank German mulled wine and shared French waffle thingees before deciding we had better do a bit more ‘Irish’ stuff. So, the three of us visited the interior of the Hall and took photos of the staircase just because it was the model for the one in the Titanic (yawn!).

There was just enough time left to pose for a photo. Lavinia (on the left) and Elza in front of the market:


After that it was a cold three hour drive back to Dublin. I had a half hour shower to warm up, and then met up with Elza and her roommate Syliva (Hungary) for a stroll around Temple Bar. This is where all the tourists go, so was fairly boring. But we found another lovely pub and enjoyed a warm fire and good food before saying goodbye at 11pm.

To be continued….