Belfast

I have been getting out and about recently and have used my rail card three times in nine days. 

My first outing was to Portrush with Bert, Hannah and the girls. That would be the annual trip to Barry's Amusements, which is now known as Curry's Amusements. As Martha and Evie are now taller than everyone except Bert they no longer go on the tamer rides. Instead, it is all the scary ones like The Beast and The Waltzer. They may have gone on The Beast five times. 

Of course, Bert and I refused to go on anything as we don't like having our bones shaken about. Instead, we strolled around Portrush like the oldsters we are and looked after the incredibly well-behaved Chico for Hannah. It was, while doing this, that we decided that it was time to lead-train Cleo so that she too could enjoy excursions to the Port. She is, after all, more than 15 months old.

The girls and Chico

My second train journey was a jaunt to Belfast with Vee. We went to the Botanic Gardens to visit the Palm House, the Tropical Ravine, the Medicine Garden and the Museum. It was an enjoyable outing, especially as Vee had never been there before. My favourite parts were the Medicinal Garden (which is new) and the Carravaggios, which are currently on display at the Museum.

Then today, Bert and I took the train to Belfast to visit Smithfield and St George's Market. I knew there was to be an anti-immigration (racist and anti-Islam) protest but did not really expect it to amount to much. But on our way back from Smithfield we found ourselves amid the protest. There were protestors flying  British, Irish and Israeli flags at the top of Royal Avenue. There didn't seem like that many people and most of them seemed to be onlookers. There was a long line of PSNI land-rovers parked bumper to bumper across the road, each with at least one officer in riot gear standing beside them. On the far side of the police vehicles were the counter-protestors. We went to that side.  Both sides were chanting at the other with the counter-protestors making the most noise. There were more of them. Yet, they seemed less threatening. Maybe that was because I agreed with their stance.  

After all that we headed in the direction of St George's Market. I re-upped my Cordyceps Tincture at Spore Shore and we had a coffee and a delicious (shared) brownie. We were joined at our table by a lovely woman who asked us what was happening in town. She was waiting for her daughter to collect her and was concerned that there would be disruptions. We chatted. Our companion was an artist, of Armenian descent and had been born in Haifa. Her family had suffered turmoil both in Israel and Cyprus. I wish we could have spoken to her longer but there was a train to catch. I could not help but think that if the Irish people who are so nationalistic and anti-immigration had any idea how lucky they are to live here at this time of relative stability we might have more compassion for those who have had to uproot their lives and go elsewhere.

Back home I heard that things had turned ugly in Belfast when the anti-immigration crowd headed to South Belfast to protest outside the Belfast Islamic Centre. On the way a Turkish Cafe was attacked, windows broken, outdoor furniture smashed to pieces. Vee and I had walked past both places on Wednesday. I was telling her how much I loved the diversity of the area never dreaming that a couple of days later both places would be attacked. At the time of writing I don't know what will have happened other than that the mosque is under police protection.

Anyone who visits this house in the coming weeks had better not utter one word of support for the racists or they might find the welcome mat pulled from right under their expensive trainers.