The Shark Tank: Encountering the Locals

As I may have mentioned, I had a great time on my holiday to Northern Ireland & Ireland. I took a ridiculous amount of photos and I wish I could blather on and on without all of you getting bored or their computers crashing from too many photos loading. Alas, I'll have to give you the condensed travelogue to save us all time and friendships. ;-)

BTW, thanks for the nice comments under my previous post. Due to my unfortunate inconsistency in posting I sometimes wonder if there is anyone even out there. Appreciate seeing there are still a few of you popping in from time to time!

So since Northern Ireland is where I first landed on the Island, Belfast seems the perfect spot to start. In a moment of pure brilliance or complete insanity (both perhaps?), in my pre-trip itinerary planning I decided that the right way to get about was by automobile. I was aware prior to my departure that unlike here in the US, vehicles travel on the left side of the road (I have seen National Lampoon's European Vacation, after all) and so I fretted about it for days before we left. Nonetheless, I hopped off the plane, passed through immigration/customs and then confidently sidled up to the Hertz counter to get this beautiful specimen of motor vehicle engineering and technology:

Our wee blue Ka

Yes, it's a tiny Ford Ka "Edge" complete with 4 wheels, 2 seats, half of a backseat and a trunk that fit 2 (count 'em - two) carry on bags. I splurged, though, and paid extra for the SatNav package to keep my one-grade-up-from-a-pony cart going in the right direction. Although we say "GPS" in America, I'll forever now call it a SatNav. Much sexier - especially when drivin' a wee blue Ka. :-)

But I digress. So my fears were completely founded and since we were too terrified to actually scream (not sure whether that is a commentary on the roads there or my general driving skills, however), I slowly and quietly made my way out of the airport parking lot to the main road. I happened to have placed my video camera in the dashboard and have a lovely recording of the first 3.3 miles of my successful navigation of the motorway without hitting a single pedestrian or sheep. I would actually share it with you but at 3.3 miles we encountered our first local (while the tape was still rolling):

Hello Mr. Poli!

Out of respect for Mr. Garda Officer I won't post the tape in case there is any personally identifying information he may have revealed, but I will say that he was invaringly polite and professional. Turns out that the Garda has this neat trick where they can scan your license plate and see if you have the mandatory insurance or not! Apparently the dear lady at Hertz hadn't yet gotten around to typing into the system that we had indeed paid out an arm, a leg and a promise of my first-born for the "meets basic requirements" insurance package. I realized only after-the-fact that in addition to the SatNav package I should have also splurged on some adult diapers. ;-)

After we bid farewells to our welcoming committee (no ticket since I had a receipt from Hertz) we headed into the city rather uneventfully (other than jumping 3-5 left-side curbs, but who has left-side curbs on a highway anyway!?!?). We finally arrived at The Europa, our hotel in the Great Victoria Street. Now I, who admittedly knows nothing about anything, paid a premium stay at this fine and "historic" institution (as described by Expedia).

Turns out I didn't take a photo of the Europa so here'sthe Spires Shopping and Conference Centrefor your enjoyment as it was located just down the street.As you may have guessed, it used to be a church. :-)

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the history behind my premium glitzy hotel is that it known as the "most bombed hotel in the world" after suffering 28 attacks during the Troubles. Apparently, the journalists in those times stayed here and what better way to get yourself on the news than to make a spectacle right in front of the cameras? Fortunately things have changed and I didn't see any journalists and nobody was bombed except for a few "sons of Bushmills" wearing tuxedos in the piano bar who seemed to be there for a wedding reception or something. The hotel and its staff were lovely and I would stay there again for sure!

Wow, I just realized how long this post is. The rest of the day was your usual touristy fare: siesta time, wandering around the city's centre and shops, and soaking up the sun from the heat wave that was hitting the area. Then I enjoyed a yummy green Thai curry and a Harp at the Basement Bistro Bar & Grill on Donegall Square across from the City Hall while my mother had the freshest salmon I may have ever tasted. I'll try to post more this weekend; in the meantime go have a pint and enjoy these photos I took:

The sun makes an unexpected and prolonged visit

Victoria Square Mall
(c'mon - you KNOW I went shopping straightaway
after I parked the wee blue Ka)

"The Spirit of Belfast" on Cornmarket that symbolises how N.I.'s history and future are woven together as delicately as linen and as strong as steel