Black cab tours and a drink with a local

It was an incredibly interesting tour, we learnt so much and it was great to go with a local who could tell you information that you otherwise wouldn’t be able to learn by doing the tour yourself. Our guide Steve was once a soldier here in Belfast so his history and knowledge on the violence and ‘ring leaders’ was quite impressive.

Here in Belfast they seem to idolize the criminals and murderers, leaving plaques and murals in their dedication. Steve was telling us of a criminal called who was a Protestant, and if he heard that one of the Catholics had shot one of his own, he’d not think twice about it, pick up a gun and go shoot an innocent by stander on the catholic side of the street. If someone had their legs broken, he’d go and break an innocent mans, an eye for an eye and all that I guess… The guy eventually got picked up by the police who had some evidence on him but after a high speed chase he ended up in hospital recovering under guard, when the guards changed over he escaped out the window and returned to his beloved loyalist area and knowing that they would just catch him in the end and put him in H block* for life he found some cocaine and on top of the morphine he already had in his system, overdosed. They found him sitting in his lounge room not long after. So, for this the locals on his “side” deemed him worthy of a huge mural and pay tribute to his family every year, taking up offerings and given the proceeds to them. Daft, I know.

There are all sorts of violence that go on here: breaking of arms and legs, shootings and dumping of bodies, ‘jar bombs’ (apparently they make them out of Nescafe jars, are very easy to make and as Steve so calmly pointed out, if were thrown at our cab would blow us all to bits… charming, thanks Steve… I was well on the look out for Nescafe fiends then…) There were hunger strikes for years which saw 10 men die for their cause (that being that the UK government treated them badly…) they stayed in their cell for SIX years, huddled under a blanket and smearing their feces’ all over the walls… Yeah, that was sure showing the government… Not surprisingly they all died in H block. H block for the record is the prison here. It is shaped like a huge letter H, the Catholics are in lock up on one side, the protasents are on the other and the wardens are in the middle to TRY and keep peace. The two rival religious groups once lived across the road from one another, just like you and I, but as the “war” got worse they used to set fire to the houses closest and when they were ruins, scrap it all away, leaving a bigger distance between the two communities, then the other side, not able to let this lie, would do the same, and so on and so on, until now there is more than a km between them. There is a road called “No mans land” which divides the two communities, and NO ONE walks these of a night as you’re picked up, bundled into a car and… well, the rest is left to your imagination. There are actually gates there now that get closed as of 9.30pm, preventing any cars driving down the road. Scary stuff, glad we saw it in day time and with a nice, ex soldier cabbie!
There are murals, there are ‘peace walls’ and there is hope that the world of Belfast will change, and for their sake I hope so too, but I’m not sure when or how this will happen.

Oh, and there was also this really large apartment block, which Steve told us is full of normal every day citizens, it has 20 levels, but the elevator only goes to floor 18 or something (I’d hate to be living on the top floor!) Why only an elevator to the 18th floor I hear you ask, WELL, that’s because on top of this block is an army base, only accessible by helicopter. Soldiers sit up there for 3 weeks or so (if I remember correctly!) and watch the goings on between the two communities; it has a great view for this. When they go off shift, the helicopter comes in once more, picks up, drops off etc. They purposely don’t have any stairs up as if they did so, bombs would be placed up there and set to kill the soldiers, and no one wants to kill a block full of every day citizens apparently and for this reason, haven’t done so yet.

There used to be an Army base

Our tour was very informative and interesting, and for all its violent past, surprisingly fun.

After this bombardment of history we thought we’d best head to the centre of town and do something mindless, like buy a new jumper for Chris who has been foolishly freezing the past few days (he keeps forgetting his jumper or misinterpreting the weather) and after this went to “The crown liquor saloon” which is the oldest pub in Belfast and has survived all the bombings of the past, which is quite amazing as the hotel RIGHT opposite it, is actually in the Guinness book of records as “the most bombed hotel” in the world. There’s a title to be proud of huh?! More surprising then all of that is people actually CONTINUE to stay here, thinking it’s a laugh. Uh uh, not for me! There was an unexploded bomb found in a car here just 6 weeks ago, who knows when the next one will go off, and who knows who or when the hotel might add to its already “impressive” title?! At this bar we met a nice enough local called Sean. He was alright, a proud Belfastian through and through who declared Dublin to be a “shite city” to which, I had to agree to a degree, but then he started to tell us of how he sees the sense in worshiping the sun, and then I tuned out, he lost me there. Still, he was pleasant enough and we had a good long chat to him before parting our ways.

We plan to pick up our hire van tomorrow and head off on our own for a bit and this I’m looking forward too, it’s tiring living with strangers in small rooms. This morning saw an awkward moment between other male room mate (who doesn’t snore) and I. It was early A.M and that sort of dark where you can’t really see that well. I woke up and realized that he and I were facing each other in our beds across the room, my eyes were bleary and I was looking at him thinking “I wonder if non snoring room mate is awake yet?” and then, as if he were a mind reader, he gave me that little “nod” that you give to strangers when you’re saying hello, then I didn’t know if I should give him a nod or say morning, and then I didn’t want him to think I was a giant perv, so I fanged sleep and closed my eyes once more, hoping he believed I was truly asleep. But then I thought “well, what was he doing looking at me?” and then I thought that HE in fact was a big perv, and now tonight I vow to face the wall all night.

Anyhow, washing should almost be done now so best go collect it before someone claims our once dirty now clean clothing as their own. More later!

written by  Chris and Emily on May 26, 2009 from Belfast, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: Europe 2009
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