Belfast, Northern Ireland

The very first time I went travelling, it all started with a starry-eyed stroll in Manhattan at midnight. The second time began in a rickety taxi rattling through misty, mountainous Ecuadorian suburbs. And the third time found me stumbling around in a jet-lagged haze amid the pink sea of Tokyo’s fallen cherry-blossom leaves...

Trip number nine has been ushered in with a rain-soaked visit to Tesco, for eggs & Bran Flakes. It’s not that my travelling aspirations have narrowed. But one has to start somewhere. Anyway it’s nice to begin with such a short flight, and without any language barrier, although some of the accents here are mind-blowing. Already I have learned several new vowels.

I’m lodged in the back bedroom of a snug little two-up-two-down near the very top of the Shankill Road. The street outside is festooned from end to end with Union Jack bunting. I was tempted to be mischievous and ask ‘are you all celebrating something?’ My AirBnB host wouldn’t have been bothered, though. He’s Polish. He’s lived here long enough that he describes things as ‘grand’ with a conspicuously long ‘a’. It’s rather like when I used to hear French students in Glasgow adopting the universal Scottish application of the adjective ‘wee’.

Staying in a Loyalist area isn’t a deliberate choice on my part, it’s simply the chance outcome of my AirBnB filters: cheapness, privacy, and a desk on which to rest my laptop so that I can write all this bullsh*t. Anyway there’s nothing particularly ropey about the area, although I certainly wouldn’t wander around here in a Celtic shirt. In a non-sectarian spirit, I have walked the whole of the Falls Road as well. It’s got a nice big Sainsburys at the end of it.

The Loyalist and Nationalist areas are of course divided by the Peace Wall, which is a depressing oxymoron, because if there really was Peace then there wouldn’t be any need for a Wall. Tourist coaches trundle along it; inane graffiti (“It’s Nice To Be Important, But It’s Important To Be Nice”) is scrawled over it; and, inevitably, stupid smiling selfies are taken in front of it. I will refrain from further comment.

Setting aside the ghoulish disaster tourism (and I haven’t even mentioned the Titanic), Belfast is a really nice place and I’d be more than happy to come back here for a stag do. Somebody propose to somebody, pronto.

Murals, flags, etc...

Cave Hill Country Park

Belfast Castle, overlooking the bay

City Hall

Lord Carson (1854-1935), standing firm outside Stormont

Edd vs Food #75
Causeway Cafe, Donegall Road, Belfast
See below for the name & provenance of this particular delicacy.

Sunderland, England

Malta

I searched for somewhere with a) cheap flights from Crete and b) cheap flights to Newcastle. Malta leapt out at me and so here I am. Nice place, lovely weather, a bit crowded, etc. Over the years I've spent a lot of time in hostels full of younger people, but here, I really think I'm the youngest guest in my hotel. They have bingo in the afternoons.

Anyway, in the absence of anything interesting to report from Malta, it's time for a brief summary of my trip in retrospect...

MOST FAVOURED PLACE
I'm going to make this a tie between Kosovo and Tirana. From now on I count myself a particular friend of the Albanian people and I will applaud Liverpool winger Xherdan Shaqiri every time he makes that eagle gesture.

LEAST FAVOURED PLACE
Again a tie, and with all due respect to both places and their residents...Dubrovnik (polluted, touristy) and Belgrade (grim, sinister). Not going back.

BEST MEAL
Falafels and sundries at The Chickpea in Crete (see previous blog)

MOST INCOMPREHENSIBLE LANGUAGE
A crowded field, with many strong contenders, but Maltese wins by a nose. I didn't manage to pick up a single word.

TOE UPDATE
Three weeks after I banged it, it's gone back to its normal colour, but not its normal shape. Hmm. Possibly I may go to the doctor when I'm home.

NEXT TRIP
Hard to say. If the pound sinks any lower then it might have to be Whitley Bay. And what happens if a hard Brexit means I'd get interned at Calais anyway? I'm afraid I shall have to just keep you all in suspense for another year. Though it may be a bit less than that.

Happy Xmas everybody.

Fort St Angelo, seen from Valletta 

Msida Yacht Marina 

The east end of Republic St, Valletta.
They like their colourful balconies in Malta.

Sliema
This is where I'm staying.
It's nice, but I wish that cat would stop staring at me.

Marsaskala

St Paul's Cathedral, Mdina
Clearly Mdina is a place where they like a prayer, ha ha.