Belfast — Jamie's Journeys

A few months have passed since I officially joined the ranks of the employed and it felt fantastic to be back out doing what I love most: exploring. In many ways, Belfast felt like a continuation of my travels in Asia, save for the bitingly cold winds, diet of sausage rolls and relentless soundtrack of 80s hits. I found myself wondering if Toto playing in my hotel lobby was some sort of theme tune for a city that feels incredibly retro. Yet unlike in Africa, there was no need to bless the rain here, which poured pitilessly for most of my stay.

Belfast strikes a curious balance. It has a proud but increasingly distant industrial heritage, which has necessitated a push for reinvention. The waterfront gleams with sleek, glass-fronted developments – a vision that would’ve been unimaginable at the height of the Troubles. And yet elsewhere, it feels like stepping into a time capsule, with HMV and Game stores that conjured up fond childhood memories of guilting my then recently-divorced dad into buying me and my brother wildly inappropriate video games.

Game of Thrones stained glass windows, Belfast waterfront

For any Thronies, there were some pretty cool stained glass windows scattered across the waterfront

Arriving on Good Friday felt auspicious, marking twenty-six years since the eponymous agreement was signed that helped put an end to sectarian strife here. For anyone unfamiliar with it, the Troubles (1968–1998) was at its simplest a conflict in Northern Ireland between predominantly Catholic nationalists, who sought unification with the Republic of Ireland, and predominantly Protestant unionists, who wanted to remain part of the United Kingdom.

My first port of call was Stormont, Northern Ireland’s glorious parliament building. It reminded me of Kenwood House, closer to home, with its stately façade and elegant grandeur. The grounds were perfect for a leisurely saunter and I was pleased to see many others doing the same – though unlike Kenwood, I didn’t spot any overexcited spaniels attempting to trip their owners into the nearest flowerbed.

My favourite discovery was a reconciliation statue that I recognised as part of a trio also located in Hiroshima and Berlin – a nice nod to shared struggles and unity

Not content with having only accumulated 5,000 steps for the morning, I remained on foot as I returned to Belfast for my “History of Terror” walking tour. It was a fantastic way to take in the city. The guide provided an excellent overview of the conflict and showed us what points of interest he could, yet I was struck by the conspicuous absence of statues or official memorials commemorating the Troubles. Its contentious legacy and enduring prominence in Northern Irish politics make such markers challenging to agree upon.

My subsequent black cab tour brought this history even more vividly to life, taking me through areas like Shankill and Falls Road, where murals punctuate the cityscape with striking imagery. Some were deeply local, while others drew parallels to conflicts farther afield, from Brexit to Israel-Palestine. The 45-foot Shankill Peace Wall in particular – erected in 1969 to separate Catholic and Protestant communities – serves as a towering reminder of the division that still looms large here.

No trip to Belfast would be complete without a visit to the Titanic Museum. Beginning with an overview of Belfast’s industrial rise, the museum unfolds like a love letter to the age of steam and steel. Harland & Wolff, once the largest shipyard in the world, dominated the city’s skyline then as it still does now – its giant yellow cranes serving as a symbol of both past glory and present resilience in spite of the company’s recent financial woes.

The museum, perched near the historic shipyard, transported me to a more glamorous era of travel. Walking through its grand displays, I couldn’t help but compare the splendour of the Titanic’s first-class cabins to my cramped and turbulent British Airways flight over – suffice to say not every evolution is an improvement. The exhibits were a perfect blend of interactive storytelling and poignant history, sharing tales of gallantry and heartbreak. Women and children were spared first, a stark reminder that in pressing times, chivalry still has a role to play. The museum was littered with evocative quotes and I noted down some of my favourites. For anyone keen to delve deeper, The Rest Is History podcast has an excellent series that truly brings the story to life.

“When the shipyard was closed on Sundays or holiday periods, the silence was ‘deafening’! We were so used to hearing the constant sounds of hammering, shipyard horns blaring, the workers steel-capped boots on cobbles and shouts of the workers trying to make themselves heard over the din.”

Charlotte Crothers née Gilpin, whose father John Gilpin worked on RMS Titanic’s construction as a joiner

“…as the smart ship grew
In stature, grace, and hue,

In shadowy silent distance grew the Iceberg too.”

Thomas Hardy, The Convergence of the Twain (Lines on the loss of the ‘Titanic’)

After all that sobering history, I needed a drink, so headed to the Old Bushmills Distillery. With a royal charter granted by James I in 1608, it proudly claims the title of the world’s oldest licensed distillery. Unfortunately, production stops over Easter, denying me the sweet aromas I’d so enjoyed at the Nikka Whisky Yoichi Distillery. Nevertheless, the bar was still open, so I sampled away, leaving my geriatric bladder woefully ill-prepared for the long journey back.

The whiskey lost to evaporation during the ageing process is known as the ‘angel’s share’

My mum will be pleased to know that I made at least one attempt to interact with the natural world at the Giant’s Causeway. The drive there offered beautiful vistas of bucolic British countryside and ample opportunities to stop off at lesser-known but worthy places of interest. Yet the causeway itself was indisputably the highlight. This otherworldly landscape of 40,000 interlocking basalt columns is every bit as impressive as advertised. The cherry on top was my guide’s diatribe against the self-dubbed “National Distrust.” Even here, away from Belfast, I was reminded of how deeply the people of Northern Ireland are imbued with a sense of politics and history.

Carrickfergus Castle

Keen Thronies will recognise this as ‘The Dark Hedges’

Belfast is a city that wears its past proudly while seeking to forge a new identity. It remains refreshingly patriotic, steeped in Victorian nostalgia, and deeply tied to Britain. For all the suffering Northern Ireland has endured, the true tragedy surely lies in the thought that we might ever consider relinquishing this corner of our world, especially when it remains more staunchly pro-British than much of Britain itself.

“Belfast has outrun, in the race of progress, many of the proudest cities of the Empire … aided by no physical advantages … fostered by no patronage of Cabinets or Parliaments, pampered by no doles from the treasury of the State, by its own inherent energy and determined purpose …”

Thomas O’Hagan, later Lord O’Hagan, Lord Chancellor, 1853