Perhaps it was the whiskey.

Saturday, March 19^th, 2016.

Belfast, Northern Ireland, UK

It’s about 11am GMT and I am finally waking up. Cate said that we could sleep in, but when I finally shuffle down 2 flights of steps to her living room, she looks like she’s been awake for at least a few hours. Oh well, it’s time to start our day!

Cate makes me a cup of coffee, using her awesome European kettle (seriously it takes like 1.5 minutes to brew coffee in this thing!) We have a long conversation about the existence of half and half outside of the US and she eventually convinces me to give up on the idea. I begrudgingly drink American coffee with whole milk.

There are 2 main options for the day – the black cab tour, which explains the history behind the Troubles or the Game of Thrones tour. The black cab tour comes highly recommended, but I am totally obsessed with Game of Thrones. I start to explain to Cate that I want to choose history over pop culture but... Before I can finish my thought, she has booked the black cab tour. Internal conflict settled.

We have a few hours before the tour starts, so we walk over to the market. It’s a great open-air market complete with crafts and food. I really want to buy some stuff, but it all looks like decorations in my Mom’s house. I can’t find anything that I want to buy, so I restrain myself and buy nothing. I ask Cate what food I should try and she suggests the Belfast bap. Since Cate is vegetarian and I am ordering a sandwich with every animal on the farm, we have to split up to order brunch. I have to fight my way through a small crowd to order my sandwich. A very friendly lady takes my order but I can not understand a word of what she is saying (I swear I speak English?!). I just keep saying “yes” to all of her questions. Ultimately I end up with a sandwich that is taller than it is wide.

Cate and I eventually find each other and she politely gazes around the market while I make the biggest mess of all time trying to eat my sandwich. After brunch we have about an hour to kill, so we walk over to the main town square. We browse through City Hall, which is pleasantly empty. There is an exhibit about World War 2, which is terribly sad. We also walk over to a look out point attached to the main mall, where we can see the ship building yards where the Titanic was built (Belfast is certainly riddled with tragedy.) 

Soon we meet our driver for our black cab tour. He (like everyone in Northern Ireland) is larger than life and is full of jokes and rhetorical questions. He takes us through the Protestant and Catholic neighborhoods and gives a great show of explaining the ethno nationalist conflict between Ireland and Northern Ireland that is only barely resolved (after the tour Cate explains to me that a car bomb went off in her neighborhood only 2 weeks before I arrived.) As the tour comes to an end I feel sad but also very engaged in recent Irish history. I am surprised by my interest and simultaneously disappointed in my disengagement in other ethno nationalist conflicts. 

After our tour is complete, we take the long way back to Cate’s, cutting through Queens University, where she is currently working as a Professor of Sociology. It is now 2 days past St. Patrick’s Day and the campus is an absolute mess of broken bottles, cigarette butts, pants (yes, multiple pairs), shoes, and other assorted relics of total and utter debauchery. Oh, college life.

It’s now approaching 5pm and we decide that it’s an appropriate time to start drinking again (when in Rome…).

We start out at Europa Hotel, which is Europe’s most bombed hotel (my sadness for Belfast has returned full force). I am surprised that it is a very nice hotel. I am even more surprised that they will not accept Cate’s credit card. Apparently it’s a common for bars to accept debit cards but not credit cards. This is irritating to us, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s probably best for a country with a major drinking problem to discourage the purchase of alcohol on credit. Oh well, we pay with cash and are on to the next pub. We go to a traditional Irish pub in the City Center but end up surrounded by non-Irish drinkers. It’s okay though; the Guinness tastes just as good.

Next we go to dinner at Cate’s favorite restaurant. I order the mussels and they are literally the best mussels that I have ever had. Damn, Belfast, you continue to surprise me. 

Next we meet her friend, Eoin, for a few rounds of whiskey. Eventually it hits midnight and I am strangely not drunk, but am definitely tired. We take a cab back to Cate's and I force myself to shower and pack as I have a very early flight tomorrow.

My time is Belfast has come to an end and I feel very accomplished. The whole experience felt more fulfilling than fun. I can’t quiet articulate my feelings, but I know that I am somehow wiser than I was 2 days ago. Perhaps it was the whiskey.