The lap of Ireland, the Reid’s world tour of Ireland ends tonight when we leave for Berlin – ” Don’t mention the war!” I say to my fellow travellers, any of the wars I , II, and the Cold one.

Breakfast in the hotel is great, I go smaller with baked eggs and chorizo, Genelle and Mark go for the waffle, all are good and the fresh orange juice (probably Spanish) is delicious. The Pembroke is very modern by the standards and age of the establishments we’ve been staying in, a bit of modern is nice for a little while.

Kilkenny Castle is next, beautiful building and gardens, the day looks grey and by the time we’ve got around half of the castle it’s raining. Cats and dogs raining, feckin falling out of the feckin sky as an Irishman would say.

If you’ve seen one castle you’ve seen them all, sound familiar? Soon we’re at the Kilkenny arts and crafts local place in the old stables of the castle over the road, I buy a cap, Genelle buys nothing, is their anything wrong with this story, I’ll let you be the judge.

We walk to St Candice’s Cathedral, built in the 9th century, it’s spectacular, and agin the church yard full of graves old and new.

Checkout of the hotel, the sun comes out for 30 seconds and tea and scones and we’re on our way to Dublin, I’m the pilot for the last leg.

All goes well until we get toDublin airport, and trying to find the rental car drop off is a nightmare, the gps takes us to Departures, so we call on Dr Google maps and after 3 laps of the airport we find it. The air in the car is a little blue and full of Irish f…. words, one corner right at the end of our driving nearly results in my co navigator suffering from whiplash, and I did hear a few words of advice that I won’t repeat.

We can’t check in with the machines, useless f….g things, we have to go to a human as they at least recognise that Mark and I aren’t female and have the same name as the co navigator. Finally in, through the tunnel of no return and as usual my knees set all the bells off, so again I get frisked, and metal detectored, by a mildly funny Irishman, I’m past seeing the humour in it, so I grin and look towards the roof.

The flight is good, and then we land and it turns to shite, we get our passports stamped, head out past the uniformed former Stasi guards looking for our driver. He’s nowhere to be seen, Genelle rings the people, they say his name is Greg and he should be there and we have his number, after a lot of calls and a long wait, Genelle nails him near the Easyjet counter, he’s in. T shirt, jeans also wearing a sour look on his face. The cranky prick wanted us to walk about 500 metres to his car and expected us to find him, he’s obviously done no customer skills training. We make him drive to pick us up, and when he gets there he doesn’t even put the bags in the car, I do, then all the way into our Berlin hotel in Haekerscher Markt he says nothing, then when we arrives he says “this is it”, stays in the car while we unload which Mark does slowly, then I walk slowly in front of the car hoping he might get cranky or at least give me the bird, but no, he sulkily looks at his mobile phone. I feel a very negative TripAdviser report coming on.

The Adina Apartment Hotel Haeckescsher Markt is very nice, the room lovely, and the staff very friendly, a nice change after the cranky Kraut who drove us in.

We explore, very late by now, the market area, cafes still open but now closing, so we find a little super market, buy some goodies for breakfast and hit the sack.

Tomorrow we’re doing an Intrepid Urban Adventures Day walk of Berlin starting at 10 at the Reichstag building.

Ciao for another day from Berlin

Paul

It’s 10.30pm, I’m just finishing a Jameson’s, neat – no ice no water, nuthin !

So today, unlike yesterday when it seems I backtracked and cover something twice, blame Guinness or Jameson’s, it wasn’t my fault! Sorry, there I go again, today was the topic, we started with the breakfast bit, the second B in B&B, it was delicious, large and washed down with really nice strong tea. I couldn’t finish mine the meal was that big.

Fuelled up we’re back down into Dingle shopping, some purchases made by Genelle and Mark, he has inherited some of his mother’s genes it seems.

On the road to Blarney, it’s a lovely drive, Tom tries his best to throw us out into the boondocks and backlanes but we’re better than him today.

Blarney for me is the pub to pass an hour or so, Genelle and Mark do the castle thing. None of that kissing the filthy rock thing for me. The Guinness at the pub was very tasty though.

We then make our way up the M8 with a €1.90 toll, towards Castel and the Rock of Castel, once the throne of the Munster kings of Ireland then a church. The place is being restored, it’s very old, but there is a lot of Ireland’s history around here.

We then take a quick trip to Coolmore Ireland and leave some of Tim’s ashes at their stud, we didn’t tell them as it’s probably not kosher to do that, the place was busy and there was lots of security about. Then it’s the back lanes to Kilkenny, Ireland nearly minus one truck that Mark nearly collected one one very tight corner.

Kilkenny arrives in time, it’s been a long day on the road. The Pembroke Kilkenny is pretty swish, and rigs in the centre of the town. We wander the streets, have dinner at a small pub called The Playwright, buskers beside us – a banjo, a violin, a double bass, and a guitar player, all singing. It’s pleasant sitting outside eating and listing to Irish folk music and hillbilly music combined.

Early to bed tonight, tomorrow is our last day in Ireland

Ciao from Kilkenny

Paul

Currently we’re in the village of Listowel, having tea and scones in John R’s Foodhall. The tea is strong, the scones are very tasty, it’s a local place, only Irish accents can be heard, the bill is hand written, the service oh so friendly and helpful. There is a poster congratulating “our Limerick neighbours” on winning the All Ireland Hurling final on Sunday. They also offer luxury accomodation, what a versatile place.

So what did today look like? Now, the day is done and I’m reflecting back on the whole day as I sit in our B&B in Dingle, overlooking the Dingle Bay, sipping a Jameson’s Crested Whiskey, fecking tough life it to be sure to be sure.

Galway, breakfast at the Skeffington Arms or the Skeff as it’s revered to is included in the price and it’s a sumptuous affair on level 1. The first thing you notice is the ornate wood panels of the carved ceiling, the stained glass, the little stairs up and down, lots of things. It was built in the 1600’s and a fair while later turned into a hotel. The breakfast is good, and large, the usual affair over here, we leave we’ll sated, ready for the long day ahead.

Today’s newspaper, The Irish Independent, gives us the issues of the day in Ireland;

• The Pope saying “we showed no care for little ones….” – no shit Your Holiness!
• Limerick beating Galway in the All Ireland Hurling Championship at Croke Park last Sunday for the first time in 35 years – they are loving it down this way, up Galway way they are crying into their Guinness.
• There is a measles outbreak in Europe – suggest travellers to the continent get the jab before they go
• Pilgrims going to see the Pope in Dublin this weekend told to pack for showers and cool weather – there’d be no hell and damnation for these good leftfooters making the pilgrimage would there.

We check out, walk down the hill to the shopping centre where the car is parked and get lost in the shopping centre. We hope the rest of the day is going to look better than this bit, ironically, the directionally challenged co traveller, she shall remain nameless, works out where the car is. Whoda thought!

To make up for it I manage to get out of Galway without problems and we head south towards The Cliffs of Mohr. It’s a pretty drive along the coast.

The Cliffs of Moher are a seething mass of people, buses and cars, it’s like everyone in Ireland is here. We check the Cliffs out, as the deputy navigator says ” you’ve seen one cliff you’ve seen them all” , and that’s it, we’re outta there. I’m not convinced she is motivated to do a lot of site seeing, but I do notice that she is a lot more excited when we approach what constitutes shops, I’m sayin no more, for I feel I might be copping a bit of a backlash now.

We cross the Shannon on the ferry, €18 it cost for us and the car for a crossing that takes about 20 minutes, we were lucky, just arriving on time after Tom had taken across country through the backlanes of Kerry.

The Villages of wild Atlantic coast are quaint, and the slow drive through them is very enjoyable, I reckon they would be a hoot at night.

Tom, our trust gps, decides to take a track through the scrub, a one lane goat track over hills and dales, I’m tense, leaning over the wheel watching for tractors, dogs, cows, cyclists, if a cyclist is coming the other way they’d have to dismount, it was scary, meanwhile the co-driver and navigator are laughing. If Tom does this again, I’ll pelt his feckin plastic and computer chipped gps self out the feckin window never to be seen again- the scheming bastard it is.

We stop at Listowel, a village heading towards Dingle for a bite to eat and a tea. Scones are great, tea is strong and lots of flavour, the bill is handed to us hand written, old style. This looks like an interesting town, maybe a bit more than a village?

We reach Dingle about 4.30pm, straight to the shops, some stuff bought, some to think about. The streets are busy, but we find out later most are probably day trippers and by evening they are gone. Our B&b is Dunlavin House, on the start of the Dingle peninsular, a beautiful place looking over the water. We then head out to the Beehive huts, Stone huts built and used by free farmers in the early Christian period but they would have been lived in from ancient times till about 1200AD.

back to Dingle for dinner at a pub, some more shopping and then back to the B&B. A long day, so I sit, I write, I sip my whiskey and try and recap the day. You’d think there would be better things to do wouldn’t you!

Ciao from Dingle

Breakfast, clean up and we get ready to leave our beautiful residence of the last few days. Riverview Fishing Lodge is a spacious well equipped 3 bedroom cottage with fantastic views over the river. We check our hosts Boom trike out, 2 litre fuel injected Peugeot motor, all sparkly chrome, very comfortable to sit in, a funny gear change but apparently you get used to it.

The day is grey grey grey, drizzling rain, a quick fill up with fuel from old mate at the servo, personal service, Genelle has him organised, then drop a scarf at the B&B for Jane, just after Mark misses a bear change turning a sharp corner and nearly has a opportunity to collect part of his inheritance early. I did see a blue car coming at me with pace and I had no where to go except pray he found the gear and accelerated.

We drive west to the pottery place / village called Belleek, renowned for its pottery. I hear Genelle say”I could have spent a fortune in there” , when in fact she only spent a small fortune. Such restraint!

We drive on south down the Irish west coast, through beautiful Sligo and the mountains, the rain still just drizzling. We stop for lunch at the Yeats County Inn at Curry. The food is great. It the meals enormous, we leave bulging. Onwards to Galway and we get into the correct car park, Google Maps makes us walk a whole block to the Skeffington Arms Hotel, we do find a shorter way, we check in and then it’s shopping time for Genelle and Mark. Galway is the home of Cladgh rings, so him and Genelle check out Dillons, “the place ” for claddagh rings. I’m free to roam, and I roam back to the bar at the pub.

The Guinness is good and feel good as well after a few. Genelle and Mark find me and we have dinner T the bar, food is excellent.a short walk and then bed, ready for another day on the road.

Probably sounds like a boring day?

Cheers

Paul

Well folks, what you do is listen to whoever is in charge, don’t complain, because whoever is in charge is going to be tired from having to organise everyone around them on the day of the wedding, bearing in mind that she has no official duties and aren’t a parent of the bride or groom,

Decision made – we’re breakfasted and off to Derry for the day. Lovely drive to the beautiful old walled city of Londonderry – but please call it Derry. Derry has along history that involves being a strategic port on the Foyle River which is linked to Lough Foyle on the north Ireland coast. A militarily strategic location, not just now but for hundred of years.

We arrive in Derry, and the traffic is very light, a car park is found right near the Guildhalla d we walk up to the old walled area and explore a full lap of the wall, reading of the siege of Derry by William of Orange. We then do a Hop on Hop off bus tour of Derry, the violent bistros is all so very recent, the Sunday Bloody Sunday slaughter of 28 unarmed peaceful protesters in 1972 in the Bog area made the world stand up and take notice and inspired the U2 song “Sunday Bloody Sunday”. A lunch at the Guildhall near the Foyle River, then we drop some of Tim’s ashes into the river.

Time for home via a stop at the Beaghmore Stone Circles, a series of large stones arranged in circles some 2500- 3000 years ago.

Back at Coagh we have visitors, Marie, Jane, Pauline, Phamy, Ken, Dale and Mudge so dinner is organised at Hanover House, our hosts restaurant. Food is great, in large quantities.

We retire to get ready to leave here tomorrow and head for Galway.

Happy birthday today for Alison and tomorrow for Simone

Ciao from Coagh in Northern Ireland for the last time

Cheers

Paul

So, what kept you busy today?

Me, well I had a wedding to go to in Northern Ireland, a big Catholic church in a small Irish village, out of town in skinny hedge lined roads just barely wide enough two small cars.

We arrive early, not by accident but let’s not say what causes this. It’s now Sunday evening and after 3 Jamesons and a Guinness I don’t feel like I need to tell the truth, for some of you it may be obvious why!

We’re about reasonably early for a Saturday, especially for me anyway, then w short drive down to the shores of Lough (Lake) Neagh at a small village called Ballyronan. It’s all of 10 minutes drive, Mark is driver today and has to deal with a direction awareness deficit disorder suffered by one of our fellow travellers, she shall remain nameless. Your Honour, the evidence is irrefutable, and damning, I rest my case.

Lough Neagh is a large freshwater lake that lies west of Belfast, near Belfast International Airport. The lake was once a major way of transporting goods to Belfast but that changed early last century and now Ballyronan is a tourist village, quite pretty, and pretty quiet.

Back to Coagh, get dressed and one traveller is struggling with the time constraint, I did tell her the time for the Church was 12 midday, but I did know that it was 12.30, this was so she got organised in time. It worked until she hopped breathlessly out of the car when we got to the church and said to Robyn, Mother of the Groom, “sorry we’re late, where is everyone?” . The response is ” don’t panic you’re early it’s doesn’t kick off until 12.30?” I stay very low.

We catch up with most of the Cobar clan at the church, the Irish backdrop of rolling green hills, emerald green hedge rowed paddocks, and a grey foreboding sky as a backdrop, a fantastic opportunity to experience something different in another country in another culture.

The church service is long, a Nuptial Mass, but the time passes quite quickly. The Groom and groomsmen are decked out in green suits ( looked blue to me but I’m colour blind); with RM Williams boots, looked very cosmopolitan but Australian, there’s no mistaking RM’s for Aussies. The girls were in cream coloured dresses, all pretty stunning looking young women and the bride in a pretty spectacular dress with a long train. How’s that for fashion reporting you lot!

It’s warm and humid, the weather is dripping but not quite raining, hopefully something we’ll experience when we get home if it hasn’t happened before that.

The drive to the reception at Larchfield Estate is over an hour down the M2, we’re the first to arrive and as I’m MCing the show I need to get organised and meet the team at Larchfield anyway. We’re first to arrive and the first to get a drink. The place is stunning, beautiful gardens, beautiful old buildings, the reception area is the old stables of a sort of Manor House working farm set up. The crowd arrive in cribs and drabs, the event gets underway a little late but we pull it back into order and on time, even though the crowd are very irresponsible to my requests to move inside and sit down. All they want to do is talk and drink, don’t they understand that I’m trying to look like I’m running the f….g show and am nervous for things to start which means I’m closer to the end when I can relax a bit, hopefully without somebody hitting me or abusing me.

The speeches go well, the 2 fathers speak briefly but well, from the heart, the Groom has a lovely from the heart speech prepared and delivers with passion, the Best Man despite not having anything prepared at the church is prepared by the time of the reception and does a great job, the Chief Bridesmaid adds some lovely words and the groomsmen run the Chair Game which is a lot of fun. Well done to everyone. My job is done on time and hopefully the Carrieann and Jim and the guests enjoyed the reception and what we did, fingers crossed.

It’s a fantastic evening but by 11 I’m feeling pretty weary and by 11.30 or so we leave in the solid rain to drive back to Coagh. Mark pilots us home efficiently and quickly, one drop off of Cherie Martin in Magherafelt.

I think we’re all pretty busted by the time we got bed about 1 in the morning.

A great day, great fun.

Below are 2 poems I wrote and read at the wedding ;

“Secrets – North and South”

Wedding bells were ringing in the northern Ireland town

18th August 18, place is full of Aussies letting their hair down,

On the other side of the world Saturday has passed

Sunday in Cobar, cool morning and sunshine that will last

Today we hear no secrets

And the time will go by pretty fast

She was from the North, he from the South

From opposite places, same words sound different from their mouths

She knew it was good and he knew it was too

It was real, and in the hot Cobar sun it grew

You were each others secret

Until somebody picked up a clue.

Island of rain, villages and fields of green

Fun people, past troubles, Guiness, it is what it seems

Large island of deserts, jungle, fire and soaking rain

Snakes, spiders, sharks, things that give pain

Were you really each others secret?

Not in Cobar, some things we need to explain

Old house that needs money and paint

Moved in together, hope the leftfooters and do gooders don’t faint

Shared breakfasts, rules and front door key

Keep the curtains closed don’t let the locals see

Don’t let everyone know your secrets,

Even when they tell you “it’s safe with me”

Two minds, two halves of the same

That’s marriage, sort of like a like a ball and chain

A shared future should hold no fears

Be ready for the whirlwind of life condensed over years

And don’t let your secrets see daylight

Keep them away from dangerous ears

Live life fully, lessons from family passed and two Tim’s

Follow your own dreams, and not others whims,

Jim & Carrieann, work hard on being best friends

For the trip of life has many bumps and more than a few bends,

Trusting each other with your secrets

Is just one thing on which the future depends

“I Rely On You”

I rely on you like a sports car needs suspension,

like the aged need a pension,

Like a trampoline needs tension,

like a bungee jumper needs a little apprehension

I rely on you like a camera needs a shutter

like a punter needs a little flutter,

Like a golfer needs a putter

And like a buttered scone really does need butter.

I rely on you like an acrobat needs a cool nerve,

like a hairpin corner needs a really drastic bloody curve,

Like a rugby centre needs to run, pass and swerve

Like a flasher really does want you to perv,

I rely on you like a handyman needs pliers,

Like an auctioneer needs buyers,

Like a Laundromat needs dryers,

like Air Lingus wants pilots who are reasonable flyers.

I rely on you like Bears farm needs water,

Like Eamon and Teenie’s brick house needs mortar,

Like Robyns heart really needs an aorta,

Like Jim ain’t married, without the O’Hagen’s daughter.

I rely on you

Cheers from Coagh in Northern Ireland

Well it’s 9.45pm in Ireland and my MC duties have finished. Nobody threatened me, nobody punched me, and I think it went off really well. The church was in the country, down little lanes, a real Catholic Irish weddding, nuptial mass, the works. The band is playing, the crowd is drinking, and after a warm humid day it’s drizzling rain outside. A second Jameson’s is easing me into relaxation, but not relaxed enough to dance. There will be some photos and a more detailed blog tomorrow.

Cheers

Paul

Not f….ing much really! The week has gone quickly, that means that travelling has been fruitful and enjoyable , mostly anyway. So what have I learned;

• Chinese food in a Ireland ain’t that flash
• It’s easy to drive, but modern technology is a big help ie a gps can prevent major conflict, even divorce.
• Guinness is the national drink, no exception.
• People are friendly, maybe the odd exception, but I reckon Aussies get a pretty fair crack
• Get off the main roads, and explore the villages and pubs. It’s fun, the pubs are friendly, and you don’t get beaten up
• The “troubles” are over but just be careful talking about politics, religion, the British etc to anyone over 50.
• Run over foreign tourists who park where they aren’t supposed to.

So today, just to get that out of the way, was pretty boring travel/ tourism stuff, we got up and got away at about 8.30am, too late for Genelle, too early for me, but I don’t count, apparently. But I’m big enough to let that one blow over my shoulder, or am I ? Therapy might help me resolve these issues I have!

My turn to pilot the Peugeot, so we’re off to Giant Causeway, the drive is uneventful, we’ve been there yesterday, but when we get there I miss the turn, much glaring and vitriolic words result in my humble u turn and drive into the car park. It’s freezing, the rain is blowing sideways, and there are tourists everywhere and it’s only going to get worse.

TIP – don’t park in the Giants Causeway car park, or if you do drop your passengers before the car park, pay £11.50 for 1 x car park and walk in through the tunnel. The entrance is a rip off at £11.50 per person, the local Irish are up in arms about it big time, it’s chasing people away. Look to park outside the car park and walk in through the tunnel beside the car park for free. That aside the rock formations are spectacular and worth the walk in.

Just to make this longer and more boring, there is a story to Giants Causeway, the reality is that it’s a World Heritage site, a 60 million year old result of cooling and shrinking lava flows that result in over 40,000 interlocking basalt columns. The legend though is based on a mighty Irish giant called Finn McCool, who carved out this coast line after a battle with a giant from Scotland. This is the Northern most point of Ireland and pretty much the closest point to Scotland.

We leave, frozen to the core, and head for the Dark Hedges area from Crown of Thrones fame. It’s great for photos but only if all the tourists would f… off and the selfish pricks who park in the road where they are told not to would f… off and park where they are meant to so we can get better access and nicer photos. Today I detect a lot of the recalcitrant parkers have German accents, may I don’t have enough mongrel in me!

We drive back via Antrim, through Belfast to the wedding reception area ” Larchfield Estate” – google it – to meet the bride and groom and check out the plans and venue for the wedding seeing I’ve got a little job to do at the reception.

Hanover House Restaurant at Coagh for dinner, we’re listening to American country music in an Irish restaurant, drinking Guinness ( at least I am), the potato crops failed, the farmer kicks the dog and his daughter is leaving for Australia and meets a bloke in the outback working in a mine with a dog you don’t need to kick. Is there a song in that? Check with me when I’ve have less Jameson’s and Guinness!

Just sayin’ but Irish food doesn’t rate as a culinary style, it’s solid food, the specialty being taties, but it really isn’t that special. Tonight Mark had a pasta bake, Genelle a chicken dish and I had a pork dish with Champs ( spud chives garlic). My pork is dry, the seasoning ok but the champs is very nice – with butter. The Guinness is iron in my diet, very nutritious.

let’s leave it at that for the day, tomorrow is a wedding and it’s going to be fantastic, 47 people I think from Australia

Ciao from Paul in Coagh, Northern Ireland

At 6am I hear rattling, a light comes on and swearing starts. Genelle thinks our Irish Mobiles have chewed up all our data by updating BUT when I check it out it’s a false alarm, so much angst!!! Sleep doesn’t really return.

Breakfast is an all in job at the hotel, £6 each for a full hot breakfast, pretty good value really. We get Hop On Hop Off bus tickets and head down the street. It’s a great tour around Belfast, covers stuff we saw yesterday but a lot of new stuff and we really get our bearings. There is a lot of development going on, a lot more money being spent than 10 years ago.

We’re back at the hotel, bags packed, checked out, Mark has the keys and is piloting the Peugeot with today’s navigator Genelle. The competition for today is Genelle v Tom Tom GPS, one has logic the other doesn’t, one has emotion the other doesn’t so when Tom wins he really losses. Good luck Mark.

Mark gets us safely out of Belfast, the rain pissing down, we’re heading North on the M2 for Ballycastle

We walk back to the Ibis Hotel, pack up and get the car out of the parking over the road. Marks the driver today and the gps is set and off out of Belfast heading for Ballycastle, Giants Causeway and a few other things before heading back down to Cookstown for our lodgings for the next few days.

The drive north to Ballycastle at the very top of Ireland is pretty quick, Genelle wants to see the countryside rather than the motorway, she finally gets to see it.

We have a look at Carrick-a-Rede, the swinging bridge on the Antrim coast, then around to Giants Causeway and then back through the middle down to Coagh where we are booked into a house for the next few days. It’s a lovely house, gardens run down to the river, 2 storeys, 3bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, well fitted out.

A short walk to the shops and then a Chinese feed in Magrafelt with all the rest of the family here for the wedding. Crappy food really, fancy that a crook Chines in Ireland.

Tomorrow we’re off to Giants Causeway, tonight we rest. I think I have to resurrect yesterday’s blog as it’s gone missing from my draft documents, bit of a bugger that, especially after delaying it because I was pretty tired.

Ciao until tomorrow

Paul

Breakfast at Keogh’s in Dublin, porridge, toast, coffee, we’re fuelled up ready to go.

A walk down the the Liffey to do the traditional spreading of Tim’s ashes off the old bridge, Genelle and Mark do the honours. We now travel with a little container of Tim’s ashes and when there is an opportunity and water, mostly water, we leave a little pinch of ashes so that he travels the world with us in spirit. It’s always part of our travels these days.

The quick walk through the Temple Bar back to Blooms, a quick Checkout and the cab we ordered has arrived. We’re ready to leave, head to the airport, pick up out rental car and head to Belfast. Not a bad jalopy, a Peugeot wagon is what we end up with, very comfy. WFirst stop is going to be Drogheda, site of the Battle of the Boyne and the ancient mound tomb of Newrange, it’s 5,000 years old and a World Heritage site. All up there are about 40 mounds that make up Bru’ Na Boinne. Not far away is the Battle field of The Battle of the Boyne in 1690 where William of Orange ( a Dutchman) who married Mary II and James II (deposed as King of England) had a serious scrap over who might have a chance for the English throne.

The stone hallway and central cavern of the burial mound are very interesting, but not enough to keep us so we move on towards Belfast, more stuff to do. The M1 motorway is a dual lane road with 115kph limit mostly, which the Peugeot does easily. The gps gets us into central Belfast but then the difficult part of trying to find the hotel and car park, lots of advice from the backseat – there’s a saying that fits this but I just can’t think of it – something about immovable objects, anyway the advice is not practical and not taken, we do find the car park and the hotel but it means a few laps around one building risking arrest for contravening “No Right Turn” signs and cutting across lanes in a major way. The IRA and the Provos’s don’t detect the illegal activity and we’re safely in the hotel.

We take a punt and get the hotel to get us a Black Top Cab, he turns up in no time, Stevie is his name, a slightly built, short grey hair, swarthy skinned, with an ear ring, a very Irish looking chap, he’s part of Cab Tours Belfast ( phone 07713 640 647 http://www.cabtoursbelfast.com) £15 per person for 1 1/2 hour political tour of Belfast. This turns out to be a well spent 15 quid, he’s fantastic, a real character and you really struggle to work out whether he’s Catholic or Protestant, we have to wait until the end to have a guess and see if we’re right. The Shankill is the Protestant and Loyallist area, it’s just after the marching season so there are Union Jacks and other flags everywhere. The mural have been updated and this time Genelle doesn’t get hit up by kids to hand her mobile phone over. It’s a poor working class area, council estates, small houses, it feels bleak. The Peace Wall is still the same, lots of murals, gates that still get shut at 6 at night, all to keep the Catholics and Protestants apart, even now there are still riots if the kids find a chance to burn or stone something. The Catholic side is similar but has a different feel, the murals are about the hunger strikers, Bobby Sands, the Bombay Street riots and its sort of sobering how recent it all is and still feels. Steve shows us the rubber bullets the British fired at rioters, they are the size of a small can of deodorant, hard as the rubber in a truck type, they are meant to be fired at nobody closer that 40 metres.

At the end Stevie asks us to guess what he is, I go Catholic and explain my reasons, Genelle goes Protestant, and Mark Catholic. He tells us he’s Catholic, the signs are his wedding ring with Celtic design and an emblem on a chain around his neck that says ” Ireland Forever”. But he was also part of “activities” he was shot with a rubber bullet when spearing a metal rod at a British Army tank – documented in a photograph in the press. These days he started the company that has 4 partners 2 Catholics, 2 Protestants , he lives in a non sectarian area, sends his kids to non segregated schools, he believes little bit by little bit things are getting better but it needs people to move on.

Dinner is at the hotel, a pizza, a drink and then a rest, ready for a new day. Our feet and ankles are swollen and despite a co traveller’s concerns that we aren’t doing enough I close my eyes, take a deep breath and say nothing, hoping that sleep will come quickly.

Ciao from Belfast

Paul