15 September 2008: Belfast, Ireland

I woke up to the noise of people coming in and out, which was expected and totally fine. Nothing like a little commotion to start your day. So I rolled off the couch in my pajamas and made breakfast in my pajamas. One of the perks of hosteling that I had missed out on so far.

And by breakfast, I mean pasta from the "free food" box that people had left behind. There was loads of pasta but no sauce, though, so I threw a chicken broth cube into the pot and then added cajun spice, chili peppers, and another spice that begins with T. The result was pretty good and entirely edible.

Today I decided to go to West Belfast, the main neighborhood that was affected by The Troubles-- the conflict between Protestants and Catholics. There is a big business in Belfast of "black taxis," which basically take you around to all the important points, but it costs £25. Plus, I felt like my two feet could do just as well as a seat.

Knowing only the "main street" to see in West Belfast, I headed over there to see what I could find. I didn't know much more about the Troubles than just the basics and was hoping to see a little bit of history.

I have to say, though, that I was a little bit underwhelmed. I went to the main street in the Catholic area, where there are the famous murals that I had heard illustrated the history of the Troubles. What I saw, though, were about 95% murals showing current events. You know, Iraq and Palestine and lots and lots of George Bush. These were fine and dandy, to be sure, but not what I was interested in.

Although I suppose it's good I saw these now, since in January about half the murals are going to have to be repainted. Unless Bush gets elected to a third term.

There was a memorial garden recognizing the fight against Great Britain, and part of the original wall dividing the Catholic and Protestant sections of town still stands, but it only stands-- there's no marker, it just exists.

There were a few plaques in honor of specific individuals who died at the hands of the British, but none about the Troubles, and the "points of interest" on a map of West Belfast included sections for community arts, environment, culture, and recreation and sport, but only five that were related to the Troubles. And even then they were only cemetaries or churches.

I asked someone on the street why the murals were so current and there were few visible markers of the Troubles, and he said "you're twenty years to late." That didn't really answer my question, and the next person said "it's not a theme park."

So maybe that's it. It just seems like Belfast is trying to put the whole thing behind it. I mean, you could spend a week in town and if you never left City Centre you wouldn't have a clue that there was anything important historically about the place. There's absolutely nothing in City Centre even hinting at Belfast's Troubles, and the Catholic neighborhood didn't do any better. Maybe it's just the the Catholic side is ashamed of the dirty history of the IRA. Who knows. Whatever it is, they just seem to be trying to put it in their past. For good.

Not that I can blame them.

But what I don't get, though, is why Belfast is trying to put the Troubles in the past but won't ever let you forget that the Titanic set sail from the port in Belfast. Doesn't that seem like an even bigger disaster than the Troubles? I mean, at least The Troubles is an interesting development in Belfast's history-- the Titanic thing is just an absolute and total failure of the Belfast ship-builders. But there are at least three different tours related to the Titanic and loads of restaurants/stores/etc. with Titanic themes. Doesn't that seem like Goodyear having a tour of the facilities that enabled the company to produce, and then recall, such a massive, unprecedented, incredible amount of exploding tires that were killing people and crashing cars? I just don't get it.

Anyway, after my self-guided tour I went back to the hostel and made another edition of Pasta Surprise. However, whereas the breakfast version had chicken broth and loads of spices, the dinner version had lentils and dried vegetables. And loads of spices. Boy did it look disgusting. But, again, was pretty good and entirely edible.

After dinner I went over to Colin's to get my camera since he had emailed me to say he was back in town, so sadly I now feel obligated to take pictures. I have some and will put them on here eventually, but it honestly just seems like too much work. I'll probably wait until I leave whatever country I've been in and do one gigantic picture post instead of including them in whichever post I talk about the place.

When I got back to the hostel Marissa was talking to this dude named Sam, and when I told him about how I had been underwhelmed by West Belfast, he asked where I had gone and I told him to the best of my knowledge. He said I hadn't really gone to the authentic, interesting parts, and then showed me on a map where I should have gone to get a real feel for the history of Belfast. So it looked like I was staying one more day in Belfast.

After Marissa got off work, she and Sam and I went to the bar. It was OK but I was exhausted and they were talking largely about romantic-type issues, for lack of a better description, and about things in New Zealand and Australia. Hardly a thrill-a-minute.

So, when we went back to the hostel and I crashed on the couch again, it looked like I was staying one more night in Belfast, too. Just for kicks.