Titanic

Beyond the Troubles: Belfast

As a teenager in the 1970’s, my knowledge of Belfast was of terrorist bombings, violence largely between Protestants and Catholics and the hunger strike and eventual death of Bobby Sands in Her Majesty’s Prison Maze. Northern Ireland was the economic basket case of Europe; no one wanted to invest there, it wasn’t on any tourist’s agenda, industries and services were hampered by its violent reputation. Saved only by influxes of funds and soldiers (some would argue this was the problem) from the motherland, aka, Great Britain, she limped along until all sides, tired of 30 years of mayhem, signed the Good Friday peace treaty in 1998.

Northern Ireland has blossomed in the 20 years since, becoming a major drawing card for tourists, the service industry and cinematographers. More movies are shot in Ireland than anywhere else in Europe, including Braveheart (set in Scotland), Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince and Star Wars (a few of them) along with the Netflix favourite Game of Thrones. The timeless topography (i.e. no overhead wires, fences or street signs) lends itself to period shoots and the tax breaks provided are enticing. Game of Thrones tours to its famous filming sites abound, but as I have never seen a single episode of the show, it would be lost on me. Other advertised sights were of far more interest.

The Giant’s Causeway:

I took a bus tour to the most visited and only Unesco heritage sight in Northern Ireland, the Giant’s Causeway. Just 12 miles from Scotland, its name derives from the tale of an Irish giant, Finn McCool, who built a roadway to Scotland across the Irish Sea. The Scottish giant, Benandonner, walked across intending to battle McCool. Hoping to avoid the conflict, McCool’s wife disguised McCool in baby clothing When Benandonner saw the size of the “baby”, he became so fearful of the size of its father that he raced back to Scotland, destroying the path as he fled. What is left, either by the giant or the more scientific version, is the Giant’s Causeway, a shoreline furnished with giant lava boulders and 40,000 columns along the Atrim coastline.

Since it was November and overcast, the site was comparatively deserted of the 1.2 million visitors who make it Northern Ireland’s most popular attraction. I passed through the Visitor Center, grabbed the audio guide available in 6 languages including English and walked down the path to the causeway (there is a shuttle bus as well) to gaze at the strange rock formations. The more foolhardy jumped across the rocks to the sea, but it was rainy, the rocks slippery and I was satisfied by merely looking, listening to the audio as it described different formations and recited the legends associated with each.

The Titanic Museum:

Back in Belfast, the newest and most significant museum to have opened in decades is the Titanic Museum, dedicated to all things Titanic. Embracing the current trend of single subject, highly interactive, grandiose museums, the Titanic Museum is housed in a sail shaped edifice next to the dry dock where it was built, with floor to ceiling windows providing views of the dock. The museum begins by showing Belfast at the turn of the 20th century, then focuses on its importance as a shipyard. It discusses the builders, Harland and Wolff, and the decision by the White Star Line to commission the Titanic. Blueprints and building techniques are on display, followed by the challenges of kitting the Titanic out including reproductions of 1st, 2nd and 3rd class bedrooms. Memorabilia similar to those on the ship – dishes, the chandelier, instruments, a shuffleboard game – transport you back to experience what life would have been like on board.

Exhibits follow the timeline of the tragedy. The iceberg hit, memorialized at the museum by panicked transcripts from its telegraph operators, the arrival of the ship Carpathia two hours after the ship sank rescuing those in the lifeboats, next tributes to those who lost their lives. A video documents some of the attempts to locate the sunken ship, culminating in its eventual discovery in 1985. A film shot by a robotic submersible shows what the Titanic looks like in its water grave. The final exhibit displays how the Titanic has been portrayed in popular culture and especially the movies.

The entire museum is well done, but I was less than overwhelmed. Perhaps it was because I had seen the equally informative, but more intimate Cobh Heritage Museum just a few days before which told the same story (except for the discovery in 1985), but I felt that the Belfast Museum was “a made for the tourist” monument rather than a museum which explored, examined or challenged me any meaningful way.

The Black Taxi Cab Tour, Part I:

For that, I embarked on the best way to see and learn about Belfast, with a Black Taxi Tour. All over Ireland, I had been impressed with the knowledge, recommendations and willingness to talk about the city or country of every single taxi driver I encountered. Apparently I was not alone in this respect. A number of cabdrivers in Belfast started offering tours of the city, getting paid for their commentary on the history of the Troubles, the politics and the current environment, all for the price of an hour and a half cab ride.

Historical Context:

A brief history lesson, much of it from David, my cab driver/tour guide in Belfast. Back in the 16th century, King Henry VIII split from the Roman Catholic Church. He, and later his daughter Queen Elizabeth, were not thrilled to have a Roman Catholic stronghold on England’s back doorstep, so they moved a lot of Protestants, mostly Scottish, to Ireland, settling them in the north. They also enacted discriminatory laws against the Catholics, not allowing them to own land, to have equal representation, to access government jobs etc. This situation prevailed until the 20th century where, after a bloody civil war in 1920-1924, most of the south voted for independence. Six counties voted to stay in the United Kingdom, including most of Ulster which encompasses Belfast. These 6 counties became Northern Ireland and were governed from London.

The Troubles, as it is generally referred to, began in 1968 when predominantly Catholic Nationalists (Nationalists wanting to reunite with the nation of Ireland to the south) began demonstrating against the discriminatory policies against them. Protest marches turned violent, riots grew increasingly militaristic. No single event can be said to have sparked the Troubles, but generally the burning of the Catholic houses on Bombay Street in 1969 is regarded as one of the trigger points. Violence between Nationalists and largely Protestant Unionists (wanting to remain in the United Kingdom union) escalated. Politicians with their own agendas were eager to stoke the fires on both sides and adopted policies of promoting hatred and differences rather than reconciliation.

The UK reacted by sending in troops to calm the situation in August, 1969. Initially, they were regarded as peacekeepers, but their presence soon evolved to that of oppressors. Small, paramilitary organizations from both the Nationalist and Unionist camps orchestrated terror attacks on soldiers and citizens alike. Flag flying and painting the curbs in your colours (red, white and blue for Unionists, green and orange for Nationalists) marked the territories. Walls totaling 57 miles were constructed across Belfast to segregate the warring sides. They still stand today.

Bobby Sands was a Unionist, jailed in 1977 for his participation in bombing a furniture factory. Britain had recently eliminated the category of political prisoners, meaning all prisoners were treated like criminals and forced to work daily in the jails. Sands and his fellow Unionist prisoners rejected the moniker “criminal” and went on hunger strikes to protest in 1981. 66 days later he died; the others soon followed, all becoming martyrs to their cause. While in jail and on hunger strike, Bobby Sands was elected to the House of Commons, prompting Britain to pass a law prohibiting anyone who was serving a jail sentence of more than one year from standing for election.

For 30 years, Belfast endured the Troubles. The walls prevented some violence, but not all. Lord Mountbatten was assassinated by an IRA planted bomb on his boat. Bloody Sunday, where British soldiers shot at unarmed, peaceful protesters, killing 14, shocked the world. People lived in fear of terrorist attacks. Tourists did not visit. Check stops – official or not- were an everyday fact of life.

Then it changed. There had been numerous peace initiatives; none had succeeded. But in 1998, it was as if everyone finally grew tired of the war. The IRA agreed to put down their weapons. The British withdrew their army. Local government, with guarantees of representation of both Unionist and Nationalist forces, was implemented. The Good Friday Agreement ended the Troubles and brought peace and stability to Northern Ireland.

Black TaxiCab Tour Part 2:

David is a full time cabdriver in Belfast who provided much of the narrative above. He likes to give the tours once per day; when he does so he can finish work by 5. It was obvious he enjoyed talking about the history of the Troubles and adding his views. He didn’t dislike the British, but he loathed both Margaret Thatcher and Theresa May for how they conducted negotiations with the Irish. He echoed what many cab drivers in Ireland had said “the politicians are all idiots.” He denied that the Troubles were religiously motivated or based and tried hard to point out Catholic Unionists or Protestants killed by the Unionists. He was also fearful of Brexit – as was every Irish person I spoke to – they do not want a return to a hard border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland. When I took the train from Dublin to Belfast, and vice versa on the bus, not once was I asked for my passport. A hard border would change all that.

Our tour’s first stop was in the Catholic area and Shankill street. The Troubles, for both sides, is best illustrated by the murals that decorate the sides of houses and the walls and the different memorial sites, In Shankill, a mural of a quilt pays homage to the many contributions made by women to the peace process.

On Bombay Street is a memorial to the burning of that street in April, 1969 and other victims of the violence.

We drove along the walls, looking at the art that disguises its ugliness. Famous people have put wishes of peace on the wall, including Bill Clinton and the Dahli Llama.

From there, we drove through one of the many gates along the walls, -they are open and unmanned- during the day but still close late each night – to one of the Protestant areas and to the mural honouring Bobby Sands

We ended our tour at a section of the wall known as the Peace Wall, where murals proposing peace at different war torn areas around the world are added as events unfold:

End Thoughts:

Belfast was a likeable city. Easy to get around, safe, vibrant. I stayed near the main university of Queen’s, bustling with students preparing for exams. The X-Mas market had just opened at the City Hall, lined with wooden shacks showcasing foods from different countries (Mexico, Finland, Greece, but nothing from Canada or the USA). Neon signs flashed advertisements for the Titanic Museum and storefronts hawked day bus tours to nearby attractions. It seems like the Troubles are a thing of the past, remembered only in the murals, the memorials, by the taxi cab drivers on their tours. But I could not gauge whether this appearance of peace and co-operation between the Unionists and the Nationalists is genuine or not. Clearly, nobody wanted a return to the Troubles, but equally obvious was that the underlying problems that gave rise to the Troubles in the first place still simmer just beneath the surface. Everyone in Northern Ireland is hoping fervently that the Brexit mess will not cause those differences to rise to the top again and boil over.

Clockwise around Ireland

Following another day in Dublin, I embarked on a clockwise tour around Ireland, stopping in Waterford, Cork and Cobh and Galway.

Dublin:

Having completed my Dublin To Do list in a single day, I had a full day to explore the less touristy sights. A plethora of museums awaited – The Emigration Museum, The Writer’s Museum, An Art Museum which had the added benefit of being free, and the tantalizing Leprechaun Museum, focusing on Irish folklore and storytelling. I am sure they would all be worth a visit, but I wanted to do something local and there is nothing more local in Dublin than pubs. A pub crawl it would be.

With a choice of 751 pubs currently operating in Dublin, I needed a plan of attack. Lists abound of the best, oldest, most authentic ambience, greatest music pubs etc. I picked a list highlighting iconic Irish pubs and headed out, into the rain and wind, towards O’Neills, established in 1713. Crossing the Liffey river, I spied the O’Neills pub. I entered, anxiously anticipating a full Irish breakfast. It was not to be – there are two O’Neill pubs in Dublin and Google maps had taken me to the one which did not serve breakfast. The bartender must have been used to this as he gave me walking directions to the proper one, an 8 minute walk away.

But on the way, I spotted another pub on the list, O’Donoghues, and ducked in there for breakfast. The full Irish breakfast is huge: sausage, bacon, eggs, black pudding, hash browns, tomatoes, beans and toast. I ordered it, ate about half and left a large amount to waste.

The other O’Neill pub was across the road so I dashed across, ordered a glass of wine, sipped it slowly and left. The pub was fairly empty, just a few students from the nearby Trinity College enjoying an after lunch pint.

A quick 5 minute walk brought me to the Long Hall, opening originally in 1860. Another glass of wine, but this one wasn’t going down too well. I still had 3 more pubs on my list, but the giant breakfast was weighing heavily, the wind was now officially gale force according to the weather alerts and the rain coming down hard. I abandoned both my glass of wine and my pub quest and retreated to my hotel.

I snuggled under the covers of my warm, dry bed and partook in my guilty Irish pleasure – binge watching The Great British Bake Off (as it is called here) on Netflix. One of my weirder delights in Europe is checking out the different offerings in each country on Netflix. Great Irish Castles is available in France, but not Ireland. Jeopardy (from 1984) is available in Ireland, but not France. Welcome to Sweden is available in Sweden, but nowhere else. I have become a recent convert to The Great British Baking Show, but only the last 2 seasons are available in the USA on Netflix and PBS and none in Canada. To say I was thrilled to find that Ireland had the first 7 series on Netflix is an understatement. I was in Bake Off heaven.

Waterford:

Most people enjoy Ireland by hiring a car and driving, taking in the rugged countryside and quaint towns. This wasn’t an option for me since, when my wallet was stolen in Riga, my driver’s license was also taken. I had applied for a replacement on-line with Service Ontario, but between its idiotic web service which requires both an on-line application and the mailing of a credit card authorization and its total bureaucratic incompetence, 6 weeks after completing the application, I still had no proof I could drive. Thus I was limited to travelling around by train and bus. It turned out to be a relaxing and inexpensive way to travel in Ireland.

A pleasant 2 hour train ride took me south from Dublin to the city of Waterford. Built on the banks of the Suir River, its harbour was a popular refuge for Vikings who established the first city in Ireland in 914 AD. The city celebrates its long history with The Viking’s Triangle, an area with 3 museums. Reginald’s Tower is the only Viking monument dedicated to a person (King Reginald) and houses the Viking museum. The Medieval Museum covers the city’s history during the medieval period from the 11th century to the 18th, and the Bishop’s Palace (the former Bishop’s residence), includes a time line of events in the 20th and 21st century Ireland and Waterford. Each is well presented and informative, despite the lack of imagination in names.

Reginald’s Tower in the middle of Waterford

Waterford is most famous for its finely cut crystal originally made in the, not surprisingly named, Waterford Factory. Hour long tours through the factory are offered. Being mesmerized by glassblowing, I could not resist the opportunity to watch a display. The tour did not disappoint, beginning with a short video about the crystal, then proceeding directly to the factory floor where craftsmen demonstrated each stage of the process, from heating and blowing, to polishing, quality control and cutting. The workers were quite happy to chat with the tourists – indeed, while the factory does make about 70,000 pieces a year, its bread and butter are the tours. Shifts are scheduled according to the tour schedules; when there are no tours, no work is scheduled.

Although originally begun by an Irishman, the Waterford factory has endured various owners over the centuries. In the mid-20th century, Czechs took over and employed mostly Central European craftsmen. More recently, it was bought by the Finnish Fiskars corporation, a company with which I am familiar as it also makes scrapbooking supplies-scissors and cutters. Small world.

In addition to walking us through the factory, examples of specially commissioned works are on exhibit:

Cork:

A 2 hour bus ride to Cork followed, with views of the rolling Irish countryside lined by stone fences enclosing grazing sheep, through tiny villages where the shops edged the roadways, pubs proudly displayed their original dates and the streets only wide enough for a single vehicle. It was the Ireland of my imagination.

Cork is Ireland’s second largest city, but at only 125,000 people, it is relatively small. Built on the river Lee, it is the nearest major center to the Ring of Kerry. How the Ring of Kerry got its name is unknown, but it is a 180 square kilometer area on the southwestern coast with striking Atlantic seascapes, beaches, lots of pastureland, Ireland’s only fjords and pretty towns like Killarney, marked by limestone churches and cobblestone streets lined with pubs, wool stores selling Aran sweaters and all manner of candies. Doughnuts, spelled donuts here, seemed to be the vice of choice, stuffed and topped with all manner of goodies.

What became a common theme, but one that came with ample warning, was the intemperate weather. Ireland in November is rarely pleasant – cold, windy and rainy- and this November was no exception. The crowning glory of the Ring of Kerry is the Dingle Peninsula, 1 of 3 peninsulas that juts out into the Atlantic Ocean and, on a clear day, offers a spectacular sight of blue skies, sheer faced-cliffs dropping into deep blue waters topped with white frothy caps. I got hazy skies, rain and hurricane like winds.

Fortunately, there were enough abandoned houses, remains of pagan rock circles, former friaries, stately castles and a statue of Charlie Chaplin (who summered at Waterville for many years) to keep me entertained:

Cobh:

Twenty minutes by train from Cork lies Cobh (originally Queenstown), a former powerhouse port which boasts a long maritime history. The Cobh Heritage Museum focuses on the town’s maritime past. The Irish have been leaving Ireland from Cobh since the 17th century, first as indentured servants to the New World, then as convicts transported to Australia a century later. They emigrated in droves (nearly 2 million) during the Irish potato famine between 1845 and 1849. Most originally went to Canada as the passage cost only 50 shillings as opposed to 70 shillings to the USA. But once they realized they had exchanged one group of British oppressors in Ireland for another group in Canada, they headed to the USA, particularly Boston. A young Irish emigrant, Annie Moore, is honoured by a statue as the first person processed at Ellis Island. For persons wishing to learn about their Irish ancestors, a genealogy service is conveniently located in the museum.

But it is the ships that docked at Cobh to which it owes its fame. The first steam powered ocean going ship, the Sirius, set off from Cobh in 1838 and arrived in New York 16 days latter, drastically cutting the transit time from the previous 6 to 8 weeks. It was to Cobh that the survivors of the Lusitania in May, 1915 were brought. A German U-boat had torpedoed the passenger ship 11 miles off the coast, killing 1198 innocent passengers and crew and prompting the USA to enter WW1.

Cobh was the Titanic’s last port of call before it hit the infamous iceberg. Francis Browne, who had sailed aboard it from Southampton before disembarking at Cobh, took hundreds of photographs of the boat, the crew and the passengers, including the last known one of the ship. His photos are showcased, alongside Titanic memorabilia and tributes to some of its victims. A walking tour of the Titanic trail is on offer each day, but I was too late for it.

Ironically for a town with such a long and glorious history of ships departing for far off lands, its main source of revenue today is from hosting cruise ships, nearly 100 each year.

Galway

Midway up the wild Atlantic coast is the city of Galway. Like the other places I had visited in Ireland, it is a pretty town straddling a river. Century old pubs, limestone churches, and arches dating back to the Spanish Armada’s visit in the 16th century decorate the city, but the surrounding countryside – including the Connemara district – and the seascape are the main attractions. The Cliffs of Moher are 74 kilometers away. As one of the most popular tourist attractions in Ireland, upward of 120 buses will be in the cliff’s parking lot in the summer; but on a rainy, cloudy day in November, only 10 busloads of tourists braved the elements.

Photo of a photo of the Cliffs on a nice day (Visitor’s Center)

Despite the cliffs having a straight drop of 700 feet, a stone fence lines only 1/2 a kilometer of the 14 kilometers.. The asphalt path goes much further than the fence, leaving extensive areas of the path completely exposed to the drop. Each year, people die getting too close to the edge – last year 8 people went over. Some are base jumpers or parachutists, others are suicides and still others are posing for photos. It has the dubious honour of being #7 on the list of the most deadly tourist spots (Mont Blanc on the French/ Italy border is #1). Giving my fear of heights and dying and the strong outward wind, I limited my walks to the fenced area.

Next stop: Northern Ireland.