Saturday, December 6, 2008
London-Belfast
After what was an ordeal at Stanstead airport, I was finally airborne. The light was shining at the end of the tunnel for I actually got the bulkhead seat, right in the front by the main door of the aircraft–a seat that offers a window and unrestricted leg room. Ah, thank God for small mercies, I thought, as I belted myself in and settled down to enjoy the flight.
As the shores of England receded, we flew over the Irish Sea. It wasn’t long before we were flying directly over an island which I could not identify. I made a mental note to look it up in an atlas (I discovered later through Ivy Ridge, my friend in Ballymena, that it is the Isle of Mann). A few minutes later, the hazy contours of Eastern Ireland came into view and we lost height as touch down began. We made it earlier than scheduled, much to Ryanair’s pride, and then I was hurrying out of the George Best Belfast City Airport to the Tourist Information Desk to buy a ticket for Bus 600 (1. 50 pounds) to take me to the City Center and the Europa Bus Depot. We were there in just fifteen minutes (unbelievably, Ryanair’s airport, for the first time since I can remember, was actually in the city center itself and not in some minor town dozens of miles away!)
The Youth Hostel was only a ten minute walk away along a rather deserted main road which was treacherously slippery as a few vestiges of an earlier snowfall were still evident. Walking gingerly, I took almost twenty minutes to arrive there, only to discover that check-in time was 1. 30 pm. I stashed my backpack in the luggage storeroom and decided to go out to meet Belfast.
Since it was cold, it made sense to do some indoor sightseeing. My first port of call was St. George’s Market which comes alive on Saturday mornings. This is a massive Victorian covered market, among the best preserved of its kind in the UK, that attracts a wide range of customers–serious buyers and browsers alike crowded the aisles as mothers struggled with babies in strollers. There were food offerings at the front and arts and crafts at the back as a Holiday Market was on when I arrived.
Almost as soon as I entered, a vendor offered me a sample of carrot cake. “Not yet”, I said to her. “Dessert later. I’m looking for lunch right now!” I soon discovered that I would not have to purchase lunch for the samples were thrown as me faster than I could say “Irish Stew”! In the course of the next hour, I sampled my way through cheese and crackers, olives, salsas and tapenades, jams. marmalade and chutneys, granola, curries, pies and tarts, candies, chocolate fudge, fruit cake as well as teas, wines and Irish coffee!!! It was just unbelievable! Though I was tempted to buy a few goodies myself, I had to keep in mind Ryanair’s severe luggage restrictions and overcame the temptation.
Lunch all done, I made my way towards the great Wheel of Belfast, a ferris wheel, similar to the London Eye, that gives rides to tourists to enable them to achieve bird’s eye views of the city. This is located right outside the grand City Hall building which is reminiscent of London’s St. Paul’s Cathedral. Since it was a Saturday, I was unable to enter the building, but a Continental Christmas Market was in progress in the vast grounds that are peppered with memorial statues of all kinds: Queen Victoria, Harland of Harland and Woolf (shipping magnates) and a memorial to those lost in the tragedy of the Titanic as the liner was built in the shipyards of Belfast and counted among its crew many city dwellers.
The Market was packed to capacity as people shopped for Christmas presents or bought exotic lunches–paella and crepes, gaufres dipped in chocolate sauce, marzipan, chocolates. There was lots of hot mulled wine and other goodies and everyone was hugely happy as they circulated, kids in tow, despite the frigid weather.
When I couldn’t take anymore of the cold, I escaped into the Tourist Center to make inquiries about day trips to the Giant’s Causeway and found the assistants there very helpful. They suggested Paddywagon, a company that takes tourists not just to the Causeway but to
London(derry) as well. I figured that this would make a better day trip as I did want to see more of Northern Ireland than just Belfast. I booked a ticket for 18 pounds and also found out about the Hop On Hop Off bus tour that cost me another 12 pounds. This would take me around Belfast and show me some of the far flung reaches of the city that would be impossible to reach without a car.
With my tickets safely in my bag, I crossed the busy shopping street of Donegal Square and made my way to the calmness of the Marks and Spencer tearoom where I relaxed with a warm mince pie and a pot of ginger and ginseng tea. Ah bliss!!! As always happens, because I am alone, I got into conversation with a couple of ladies, a mother-daughter team out on a shopping spree, who helped me pass the time. I loved the sound of the Irish brogue on their tongues and the peculiar intonation that is decidedly Irish. I have now traveled extensively enough in the UK to be able to distinguish the Scots from the Irish accents and they are always fun to overhear.
Then, I headed home and found that my 6-bed female dorm was empty. I chose a bed on a lower bunk and decided to take a shower, only to find the water hopelessly tepid. Disappointed, I settled down to read Mary Beard’s The Parthenon that my colleague Karen lent me. I found in fascinating. After having visited Athens, both Llew and I were keen to read more about Elgin and his vandalizing spree and this book provided all the answers in an extremely readable style and with an ironic tone throughout.
About a half hour later, the door opened and Jaime entered–a Malaysian who is spending a year in London on what she described as a “work-holiday visa”. I had never heard of such a thing and she went on to explain to me that the UK government allows young folk between the ages of 18 and 28 to arrive in Great Britain to travel for a year while keeping a job. Later on, Jo and Lisa from New Zealand would also join us. They were on the same visa. In the course of the next few days, I came across several Australians traveling around the UK on these visas. How marvelous, I thought, for these young people to take advantage of such opportunities and to travel through Europe while earning a living. How adventurous! For folks like these, Ryanair and Easyjet and other budget airlines are a boon, not to mention the economy offered by the Youth Hostels. This one, for instance, came en suite, with a separate toilet and shower room and wash basins in the room that allowed multiple residents to use the facilities at the same time. I love an en suite hostel room and find it so much better than the ones that require you to use common bathrooms in the hall outside. Of all the Youth Hostels I have stayed in, the one in Barcelona (at Las Ramblas) was the pits (it neither had separate male and female dorms nor en suite rooms) ,but Jaime told me that a newer one in Barcelona is far better.
It was Jaime who offered to go outside and buy us a pizza to share. She returned with a Chicken and Barbecue Sauce Pizza that was delicious. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I began to tuck into the pizza and at 3. 50 pounds each, it was a steal.
My first day in Belfast had been spent fruitfully and I looked forward to the arrival of Ivy Ridge who had promised to arrive from Ballymena to show me the Antrim Coast and glens.