St. Patrick's Day in Belfast

Trip Date: 17 March 2012

A year ago, I was updating my blog from my friend's, Ruth, apartment in Singapore after flying in on St. Patrick's Day from Sydney! I can't believe that I've been able to keep up this blog for so long (a posting rate of 1 entry every 5.2 days!).

Well, back in Belfast, Rebecca and I woke up in the late morning and I grabbed us some coffee and muffins from Starbucks before we headed off to meet with her friend, Amy, and Amy's friend Katie for a day of St. Paddy's Day food, drinks, and festivities. Amy and Rebecca went to secondary school (that's high school, for you American folks) and now lives in Belfast, so she was our primary tour guide for the day. Since we were running a little late, we took a cab to the City Center and kicked off our morning right by wandering around the St. George's Market. The history of marketplaces in Belfast goes back to the mid 1600s, but the current St. George's Market's history goes back to the early industrial 1800s Belfast. This part of town had all sorts of marketplaces where merchants and farmers would come to sell their items. The May family started the modern marketplace, and after acquiring land next to their open-air market, they decided to build the current sandstone, iron, and glass structure you see today. The structure, completed in 1890, was built because farmers "are submitted to sufficient hardships already, without being compelled to stand in the open air in torrents of rain before they can sell their goods." It didn't take long for St. George's Market to become the place to buy your butter and eggs, as the market's motto goes.

Things changed a wee bit during the second World War. The marketplace was still the best place to do your shopping because everything you needed was found, somewhat bountifully, and in close proximity, whereas folks who lived outside of town a bit would have to wait in lines for limited items at their local grocers. It wasn't long though before the Irish were struck by the Germans during the Belfast Blitz of 1941 (Easter Tuesday). After parts of the city were decimated, St. George's Market was turned into a makeshift mortuary for 255 bodies that were brought there for identification. More recently, however, the Market remained open throughout the Troubles which wreaked havoc on other parts of Belfast and has been renovated and restored such that producers of all sorts - farmers, artists, fishermen, and more - still utilize the space a few days each week to see their merchandise.

The four of us wandered around the market for a good while, sampling local cheeses, salsas, curries, vegetables, and even got ourselves some Guinness-soaked Irish Sausages on a bun with egg (called a bap). Super super delicious! It was just after noon when we left the market and headed closer to the City Center to get a good spot along the street to watch Belfast's St. Paddy's Day Parade pass by. The parade was fantastic: not too long, but lots of people were out and those who were in it definitely were having a good time. Belfast has a lot to celebrate this year. All over town there were posters touting that 2012 is "Belfast's Year" as the world remembers the fate of the Titanic on its centennial anniversary (Titanic was built in Belfast - and it was fine when it left the docks, they say!) and they are celebrating the United Kingdom's opportunity to host the 2012 Summer Olympics. Even though they are in London, all UK cities are opening their arms to any visitors that may be coming their way as part of the Olympics. Belfast is even opening up a brand new Titanic Museum in the harbor this year to commemorate the ship-building history of Belfast and the history of that ill-fated voyage.

The tail end of the parade passed by and we followed it a little bit, back past Bittles, the pub Rebecca and I started at the night before, and down to the Albert Memorial Clock. The clock tower was built as a memorial to Prince Albert, Queen Victoria's husband, and was finished in 1869. Like so many other famous towers, the tower was built on swampy ground and has taken on a generous lean (4 feet) to one side! But the tower is stunning and the city is paying millions of pounds to try and halt the continuing lean.

While the throngs of people hustled into Custom House Square for some free live music, we meandered through some back alleyways until we got to a little pub called The Duke of York, a pub our restaurant server the night before suggested to us but apparently could not give us directions to. And so it started, the drinking that is. The pub was decked out with any and all sorts of vintage posters of Irish beers and whiskeys, advertisement trays, stickers, and tins. And in true Irish pub fashion, the tables were what looked like refurbished church pews and other benches and stools, and the table were hand crafted out of wood or recycled sewing machine benches.

We had a drink or two and watched as people from the US, Australia, Europe, and Ireland came in and out of the pub, but then it was time to move on because rugby was going to be starting soon, so we marched over to another bar, 21 Social (not a pub as it was much trendier). They had a big screen with rugby on (Scotland v. Italy - Scotland lost...again) but were not playing the commentary and few people were there, so we left our front seat table to find a better setting to watch the Wales v. France and England v. Ireland games.

First we went across the street to a pub, The Cloth Ear, where young Irish dancers were prancing about throughout the pub and you literally had to watch where you were walking or else you'd get a foot in your face. These girls were not joking around. If you were in their way, they were not going to stop for you, but you wouldn't realize it until you came to, sprawled out on the floor - a direct K-O from their dancing shoes. Needless to say, we moved on. It seemed like none of the other pubs people were suggesting worked out. We tried The Garrick, which looked great and they had the game on, but it was small and way too packed for us. And then we tried McCrackens and The Morning Star before finally going back to The Cloth Ear where the dancing had stopped and the Wales-France game was back on in full swing with commentary and everything. Everything but seats. We stood around and shared some stools and drinks for a little while, before I was sent on a reconnaissance mission back to 21 Social to see if our table was still open.

Our table had been taken by a group of guys we saw waiting around before we left that bar earlier in the day, but decided to head back there anyway since their screen was much bigger and the crowd was much more into the game. Drinks were passed and laughs were shared as Wales beat France to win the Six Nations tourney. We didn't have too long to figure out a game plan to find seats to watch the game (as we were standing behind the crowded table of guys). But then one of them suggested two empty stools they had open, so Katie and Amy took those, while Rebecca and I parked it on the floor. So much roomier and right in front of the action. Unfortunately, the action was all England, and they beat Ireland pretty well. And unfortunately for Katie, from England, she was unable to cheer for England as she was totally surrounded by rowdy, drunken, Irish folk. But she'd smile a bit when England did something good or Ireland messed up.



By this time it was quite late in the day, or actually, well into the evening...it's hard to remember at this point, but we needed food. The only open place was McDonald's (eyes are rolling, I know) but it was what we needed, something greasy and salty. When we were finished, we headed toward Filthy McNasty's, the pub that Rebecca and I ended at the night before. We were rendezvousing with another of Rebecca's friends from secondary school, Lydia, her husband, Daniel (a SoCal guy), and some of their friends. It was a bit chilly out, but Filthy's back courtyard was jam packed full of people and had lots of little alcoves where small fires were lit (which is a thing here in lots of pubs - real open fires!). The music was playing, the drinks were flowing, and flowing, and flowing. We met some locals by one of the fires and ended up chatting the rest of the night with them and eventually moved to one of the inside rooms where we could enjoy our drinks without worrying about the cold.

Suffice it to say that we closed out the pub and before we knew it, Rebecca and I walked to a taxi stand with Amy and Katie to see them back home, but we kept walking back to our place, only stopping to pick up a pizza. Once back at Rebecca's aunt's flat, we ate our pizza, enjoyed another beer brewed in Rebecca's hometown, and watched YouTube videos for a while before calling it quits and going to bed. Even with its past history of St. Patrick's Day riots and considering their loss to England in rugby, it was a fun, friendly, and successful SPD - the only kind I assume you can have in Ireland :)

Now we just had to get through the next morning...