Belfast, Northern Ireland

This is another non-crochet post, but one very much worth sharing.

My in-laws graciously treated Alasdair and I to a wee holiday to Belfast. I have never been, and was super excited. Alasdair's father is technically retired, but works part-time with the ferry at the nearby port, so our travel across the sea was free.

The weather was dreary and I did a bit of crochet. Nothing major. We had access to the first-class area with unlimited snacks and drinks. Luxurious! The in-laws had some wine and I detoxed on peppermint tea.

After a few missed turns here and there, we arrived at our apartment. This was our view, without any filters or alterations:

The next morning, we grabbed a black cab for a one-on-one tour of the troubled areas. 

Please note that since I will be bringing-up religion, I was raised Catholic and the black cab driver was Catholic. However, my husband and his family are Protestants. I am aiming to make this post as unbiased as possible.

Belfast has experienced violence over a period of around 30 years. Streets have been divided by religious and cultural identity. The divide is Protestants, identifying as British, who strive to remain loyal to the Monarchy vs. Catholics, identifying as Irish, who strive for a united Ireland. It is a sensitive topic, even today. The black cab tour was able to bring me places that both my own religion, and nationality, would have previously denied me access, even just 15 years ago.

Shankill Road is Protestant territory. Here we saw Union flags, Scottish Saltires, Rangers Football Club flags, as well as an Israeli flag (Catholics tend to support Palestine, here in NI). Murals here depicted great war heros/legands, who had killed for their fight.

If anyone wants the full and original images before, please let me know. I will happily share.

Maybe it was hearing that the poppy circle on the top left symbolized the Catholics killed by the man in the middle, or maybe it was the gun in the center photo that follows you no matter what you angle you turn, or perhaps it was the bullet-proof glass in the windows. Regardless what it was, as I stood there, there was a pressure on my chest that made it hard to breath. I'm personally in a group photo that I will not post, because trust me, I am not a happy camper.

The tention was alleviated when we reached the wall separating the two war zones. It has been named a 'Peace Wall', decorated with graffiti and petrol-bomb stains.

I left a piece of myself in the history. Can you find me?

The tour guide told us that since the walls are so high, the Protestant side has, on occasion, hit golf balls over to shatter windows. The houses on the Catholic side of Bombay Road are very close to the wall. To get there, you must cross through a gate. The gate closes at 7pm every night, to this day. It is monitored by cameras and is electronic. When the gate has been left open, violence has occurred. 

This is what I found on the other side:

As with the other photo grid, if anyone would like to see the original photos, feel free to reach out to me.

There were no flags, but I did see Celtic Football Club shamrocks in an iron gate. Here, there were a lot of murals with images of important leaders from around the world, who have faught injustices. Martyrs. There was a marble wall with names, like what you would find in a grave yard. The black cab driver showed me rubber bullets used to kill, not stun. The faces who had been killed were on a banner. Here, those who had died were celebrated. It was easy to forget that their hands are not clean, either.

The black cab driver then brought us to the Titanic Museum. It is the boat-looking building in the middle of the photo.

See the yellow cranes?

Honestly, we were unimpressed with the museum. Over-priced and underwhelming. However, here are some highlights:

Where it was built.

I am not sure if we are related, but his poor soul perished.

We headed back to the apartment and walked over to Ryan's for dinner. 

I had a chicken boxty, a traditional dish. Chicken and bacon in a white wine sauce, wrapped in a leek and potato pancake.

The next day, we were off! Goodbye, Belfast. You're a beaut, but there is an underlying energy that isn't my cup of tea.

Ailsa Craig aka Paddy's Milestone, seen from the ferry.

Ready to jump into a new project!

Weekend in Glasgow, Scotland

Warning: This post has nothing to do with crochet!

Friday, I headed into town to meet Jenny. I have known Jenny since 2009, back when she was my flatmate on Arlington Street. I used to live in Glasgow and I had attended Glasgow Uni. Jenny remains a best friend of mine, who knows my faults and loves me despite them.

Due to the overcrowded pubs and pouring rain, we nipped into a wee pub near St. Enoch's station. We started the night with a bottle of Prosecco. She spoils me!

Meanwhile, we caught a man being disorderly and rude, to a police woman on a horse, right outside the pub. The horse booty-bumped him into a car, and they sent the man on his way! It was awesome.

We jumped on the subway, by my request, to head over to the West End. For a bit of nostalgia, we got off at Hillhead. I used to live nearby in both North Kelvinside and Partick. Hillhead station is located inbetween those two sections of the city. I stopped and soaked it all in. It felt like home. We walked down Byres Road, so that Jenny and I could grab a drink at the Partick Tavern.

Another bottle down, and a bit of home-grown Glasgow music. 

(Edit: 07/30, Partick Tavern may have experienced a face-lift, but I still remember where not the sit due to the dodgy dripping roof!)

We kept it moving, and went to a different pub across the road. I cannot recall the name, but if you are ever out and about on Dumbarton Road, it is across from the Tesco Metro. We grabbed another wee bottle of vino. 

(Edit: 07/30 I found the pub! We were at the Lismore.)

Three bottles down. Time for some Monster Munch and a diet Iron Bru. We wandered down the road, hoping to find my husband, who was also out in the area at the time, but instead found ourselves in a new pub with a large glass of wine. My train was on its way, and it was time to say goodbye.

I jumped into a taxi and started to cry. Trying to keep myself together, I explained that I just said goodbye to my best friend. I lived in this city for 3.5 years. The jobs, the flats; my life. I ended the trip stating that Americans aren't so bad, and I was on my way. I soon found my husband on the train. May have been the wine. May have been the city. However, tomorrow was a new day and I was coming back.

I overslept a little on Saturday, and pulled myself together. It was Jenn's 30th birthday! Don't get Jenny and Jenn confused. I met Jenn when I worked for a bank in 2012, and she soon propelled herself into a strong pillar in my life. She was my shouldar, my strength; my feisty little weigie. 

I met her at Glasgow Central and we had a glass of champagne. Do I not have the best friends in the whole wide world?!?

I'm still a little fazed from the night before, but luckily not hungover. I must have a liver of steel!

We met her friend Tammy from London (who soon became a friend of mine as well) and we headed to her parents to get ready for a 80s/90s themed bash. After the makeup was completed and the pizza was consumed, we hit the road for Merchant City, a section of Glasgow.

The party was amazing, and her parents were beyond generous. After ending the night with 'Bonnie banks of Loch Lommond' and '500 miles', we hit the town.

It gets a bit hazy at the point, but I did hug a nun after she gave me flip flops. No, I was not barefoot, my new ginger Geordie friend was, but my heels had to go! This of course caused me to cry AGAIN. I was overcome with emotion at how amazing Glasgow is, and how thoughtful the people are. Or maybe it was the bottles of wine Jenny and I had continued to split, on top of a couple of gin and tonics. I'm a hot mess.

I woke up the next morning next to Jenny (mind out of the gutter, it was a girly sleepover). I gave her my best old man highland wink and stated, 'you and I together are trouble.'

(Edit: 07/30 I need to showcase the amazing Scottish breakfast 'fry-up' that Jenn's mom treated us to. Spoiled!)

Obviously I'm experiencing some strong emotions being here in Glasgow. I'm in pergitory. It isn't about right or wrong, but finding which side I belong.

Isle of Arran, Scotland

Yesterday, we took the ferry to the Isle of Arran. I expected to get some crochet done on the ferry, but I was too distracted by the beauty all around me.

Our ferry left from Ardrossan en route to Brodick.

We went to the brewery and to Brodick Castle. To my surprise, Brodick's castle grounds were covered in knitted/crocheted flowers and caterpillars! 

Thistle!

Look, it is the same castle as on the £20 note!

It's like they knew I was coming :)

Arran is indeed 'Scotland in minature'. I feel so blessed to have experienced such beauty in my lifetime.

I'm in Scotland!

I wanted to look my best before seeing my friends and family abroad, so of course that meant that is was time for a haircut. I was well overdue. I was scared that something would go wrong and I would look awful in all my photos. However, since a year had passed since my last cut, it was a risk that I had to take!

I had an extended goodbye at work on Friday (I felt the love) and left at a decent time (5:00 haha). Ally and I started the night right with a yummy, over-indulgent meal.

This is my husband giving me a 'nice smile'. Thanks, Ally.

We arrived in Glasgow on Saturday. Everything ran smoothly until we found our luggage was missing. It was a bit awkward, especially since I had to wear my mother-in-law's clothes. Luckily, the luggage was delivered to us on Sunday, just in time for a fun night out with Ally's pals, Nicola & Dave.

The night ended at 3:30am. Jet-lag, be damned!

On Monday, we headed into Glasgow, to have a wander in the shops, and get our jewelry fixed. It felt so good to be back on the train, heading into the city. A route both Ally and I have taken on many occasions. Very nostalgic. 

Look at the wee face!

My engagement ring was always snug, but in America, where the weather is hotter, I found on bloated days that I have to leave it at home. I also needed my watch fixed. I am missing a small crystal and the battery had died. Ally was debating on decreasing the size of his ring. He also needed to swap out his watch band. All easy fixes. It was important to us to go to the same jeweler where the purchases had been made.

Ahh Buchanan Street, how I missed thee! Of course, I picked-up some gifts for colleagues and myself! Ally wants to come back later this week, and have lunch where we had our first date, 3 years ago. Glasgow will always be our second home and a part of our lives.

Today, I'm back in Troon. 

This is the view from Ally's childhood home. Isn't it dreamy? There is something so ancient and mysterious about those hills. They pull you in. Old-worldly.

Today, Ally has an eye doctor appointment. I'm at the house alone, writing this entry. Soon, I will be whipping-out the crochet hook. I can't wait to see what I accomplish, with my crochet, on this vacation.