Jonola14

HE IS THE BOY IN BELFAST CITY

I spent Monday night and all of Tuesday in Belfast, Northern Ireland.

Fascinated by the taxi driver’s commentary on the way into town on Monday night, my work colleagues and I learned a few things.

1) On one of the main roads, one side is Catholic and the other is Protestant.
2) You can tell religion by name.
3) If a car bomb explodes and destroys part of a building, they build a wall in front of the building. If another car bomb goes off and destroys the wall, they build a bigger wall until “they get bigger bombs”.

After withdrawing Northern Irish Monopoly money from the cashpoint outside the “most frequently bombed hotel in the world”, we ambled round the corner to Fibber McGee’s where we found some live twiddley dee music and the opportunity to experience an authentic Irish bar. Many laughs later and we were back at the hotel, me clutching a taxi-cab receipt with Roy Walker’s phone number on the back. I dialled it, but the operator answered, saying it was the wrong number. “I’m trying to call Roy Walker on 0280 123 456″ I said. “Thas nart da roit numburr” the operator replied, “it’s good but it’s nart roit”.

Anyway, we landed on one wheel with an almighty bang in the middle of rain and gales back in Luton but got home safe and sound.