Last week, while in Belfast I took a walk from Yorkgate station to Carlisle Circus then, after the exhibition, from Carlisle Circus to the Linenhall Library. I was most comfortably shod in my new Blundstone boots so the walking was a pleasure despite my achey hip and knee.
The first part of the walk took me past the memorial to the McGurk's Bar bombing in 1971. The pub was blown to pieces and fifteen people died. That was one of the many atrocities that took years and years to get through to me.*
I passed near Gresham Street and thought of all the times I hitched to Belfast when I should have been at school, making my way to Smithfield Market and Harry Hall’s second-hand bookshop. Ages were spent in there choosing Penguins and Pans some of which are still on my bookshelves today. Pocket money gone, I’d begin the trek from Smithfield to the Antrim Road where I’d thumb a lift just in time to catch the school bus from Antrim, back home and the parents never had a notion. Imagine taking rides with strangers in the 21st Century, now that we are led to believe that every other person is a predator. Although, I do think that most of the people who gave me lifts back then were probably protecting me from the bad actors.
Sixteen-year-old me would have been lugging a satchel stuffed full of Steinbecks from Harry Hall's. Nowadays me bought one solitary book - May the Lord in His Mercy be Kind to Belfast, by Tony Parker. I had a copy years ago and wanted to read it again.
*During the early years of the conflict there would be times when I would not be fully aware of what was going on. In 1971 the violence escalated and it peaked in 1972. The ‘News’ became unbearable and truth was in short supply.
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