Northern Ireland Confidential

snail mail call

I got two real letters today, a very special treat for a mundane Thursday. I resisted the urge to open them until I was seated at dinner at a restaurant on the Lisburn Road.

What a nice way to spend an evening, to catch up with cherished friends and to see some familiar handwriting, last glimpsed on inter-office memos or Post-It notes. I really enjoy Facebook (who would have thought?) but there is no substitute for pen on paper and addresses with postal codes.

Writing letters is a nice pastime too, something I tend to reserve for an afternoon stop in a pub. It makes my visit there seem more purposeful, and less solitary. Plus I have loads of stationery that I need to use.

Thank you, correspondents!

syrup optional

This made me laugh out loud. Paraphrased from this morning's "Thought for the Day" on BBC Radio 4:

"Today in New Orleans, revellers will walk down Bourbon Street and drink and carouse. In Rio de Janiero, lavish costumed partiers will watch elaborate floats and drag queens. In England, we will eat pancakes."

then again, so is love

I sat at the gate, waiting for the plane back to Belfast and watching a man at the far end of the lounge read to his girlfriend.

Ah. So sweet and tender. I think being read to is one of the nicest things possible. I once told a friend that my idea of romance was to be shut up in a cottage on Cape Cod while Ira Glass read poetry to me. This was a number of years ago, before I moved here, and while the proper nouns have changed, the general scenario is much the same.

So I tried not to stare at the guy who appeared to be reading aloud items from the newspaper. Ironically, at this touching airport moment, I was deleting all the text messages I'd collected from the only glimmer of romantic possibility I'd had in Northern Ireland. I erased the little library -- not out of pique, but out of boredom and resignation -- and wondered why I'm always attracted to people who are

(a) supremely talented
(b) charmingly quirky
(c) arguably gay

As I chose my seat on the plane, I noticed that this man was extremely attentive to his travel companion. They were many rows behind me, but I saw him place her bag in the overhead compartment. At journey's end, yard down the footpath, I watched him light a cigarette for her -- old-time-movie style, both in his mouth.

Finally I indulged my curiosity. I walked to the smoking area so I could get a good look at this paragon of gallantry and the woman who inspired him.

She is blind. 

mackintosh pilgrimage

GLASGOW -- I walked on Sauchiehall Street for a whopping six blocks when a couple stopped me for directions. I could help them get where they were going, but I couldn't seem to find my own destination.

I was on the wrong end of Sauchiehall, where I observed a storefront sign for NICENSLEAZY conveniently located near The Kama Sutra (an Indian restaurant). Eventually I righted myself, found the Glasgow School of Art and continued my Charles Rennie Mackintosh pilgrimage at the Willow Tea Rooms.

 

diver down

One of the great pleasures of life is discovering a talented writer.

I picked up a new literary journal called Irish Pages and within a few paragraphs knew it was a wise choice. But once I sat down at dinner, and progressed to page 43, I fell head-over-heels in envy with Aidan Carl Mathews.

Tumbling into his essay is what I imagine deep sea diving would be:  descending to a completely different world, absorbed by other creatures, dumbstruck by new thoughts and sights and sounds. Time and place fall away. Eventually, you have to come up for air. 

So when I resurfaced I was in Glasgow, Scotland, on a Friday night, finishing a gorgeous meal.

Now these three things remain: new city, fantastic food, wonderful writing. But the greatest of these is the writing.

glasgow kiss for valentine's day

GLASGOW -- Reading about this Scottish city, I've recognised so much similarity with Belfast. Both were industrial giants who saw their shipbuilding and manufacturing fortunes fade, both have rough-and-tumble** reputations, both are experiencing a renaissance in respect, economics and culture.

I've come for a weekend getaway city break and I'm very excited. Choosing a boutique hotel on Valentine's Day probably wasn't the natural choice for a solo traveler, but a good weekend rate and a calendar that matched my Edinburgh friends' were powerful lures. And the architecture, and the museums, and, well, who could resist?

If safety in this city centre is a concern, may I recommend a hotel room with this view? Just outside my window: 

 

** Well, downright violent ... a "Glasgow kiss" is actually a euphemism for a head-butt

a thought for valentine's day

As you know I love the show "Poetry Please," heard every Sunday on BBC Radio 4.  Today's show theme was love. I really am not in the mood to hear love poetry. But I didn't get up to change the station.

And they read this poem by Sophie Hannah. And I said, "I love that."

the white stuff

Apologies to the folks back home, and to my colleagues in England, who are so sick of snow they could scream, but I was delighted to wake up this morning to see flakes falling here.

Fortunately for me, I was already scheduled to work out of the Belfast office, usually a 10-minute drive from my home. Well, it took 45 minutes. But I still thought it was beautiful. And it was lovely to see a light dusting over the mountains.

Best of all, by evening, the roads in town were clear again.

I'd love to see a big old snowfall this weekend -- one like the fairytale flakes that happened a year ago. Just as long as I'm home and the car's parked when it happens!

it's boss time

Actually, it's way past bedtime, but I couldn't wait to watch Bruce's Super Bowl halftime spectacle on YouTube. He was fabulous, as expected. I crouched over my computer to watch it on BBC's iPlayer.

Did I mention he's coming here to Ireland? Oh yeah, I'll be on home leave in the States while he's touring in my backyard. But at least I got to see the fireworks and all that hoopla. That's pretty much how it feels when you see him in concert.

PS to Clarence: More cowbell.