Sunday, September 9
Northern Ireland part I: off the page in Belfast
I recently returned from a short trip to Northern Ireland to see my exhibition at the Clotworthy in Antrim. The exhibition looked good and everything went swimmingly. Well, apart from that fact that I developed a hideous sore throat and cold on the day I travelled out, and generally felt 100% ropey.
I then spent an interesting 24 hours in Belfast, made more interesting by the fact that I set a world record for getting lost. It's so long since I've been anywhere new that I forgot one of my own golden rules for travel; namely acquire a *good* map of the city before travelling.
I had a Rough Guide to Ireland, which had a map of Belfast city centre and a map of the University district. Which was fine until I came to the edge of one map, and the edge of another. Unfortunately there seemed to be zero overlap, so I spent a disproportionate amount of time lost in limbo between those pages. Mainly in the vicinity of the BBC building.
Thank you to the kind soul from a film crew who advised me that I was about to head into a red-light road and pointed me in the correct direction. It transpired that he was filming a piece about inner-city violence, which made me chuckle.