So here I am...

A few weeks ago I was taking with a friend and the subject of whiskey came up. Somewhere in the conversation I said, “I should go to Ireland and visit a lot of distilleries.” He replied, “That’s a good idea.”

So here I am in Belfast.

I’m not here to drink, I’m here to revisit the two adjoining neighborhoods that personify The Troubles: Shankill Road for the Protestants, Falls Road for the Roman Catholics. The last time I was here was 25 years ago, before the Good Friday Accord, and I wanted to see how the neighborhoods might have changed since that treaty went into effect. And I wanted to see how the prospect of Brexit is affecting this city.

I’m only here for two days; going to Dublin for another five, where I do plan to visit a distillery. Or two. But any more than that would just be ludicrous.

Look—once you’ve seen how one company distills its product, you’ve pretty much got the workings down.

So far, it’s been an…interesting trip. Aer Lingus was more than two hours late taking off; I heard some people talking about how they knew that they’d miss their connections on to elsewhere in Europe. I don’t understand people who book international multi-leg flights with less than two hours of layover. My own plans were to take a bus into Dublin to catch the 0930 train to Belfast, which was about a four hour gap from the original ETA. I’d decided that trying for the 0730 train would be just asking for trouble, and turns out I was right. As it was, I made it to the Connolly Street Station with about 40 minutes to spare.

I have to say I was disappointed in Aer Lingus—not just because of the delay; stuff happens. But their overall effort was just lackadaisical. Their amenity kit consisted of: socks, an eye mask, earplugs and mints. This is the first time I’ve had an overnight international flight where you didn’t get a teeny toothbrush and toothpaste, and maybe some moisturizer. Trust me, when you haul your butt out of your seat after a six-hour flight, you want to brush your teeth.

And then there was the catering. Here’s a picture of the worst champagne I have ever had in my life:

Allegedly “Jean Pernet Tradition Brut NV”, whatever that is. This is how bad it was: I didn’t finish it.

The meal was 1980s-era airplane food: steak tasteless, haricots verts incinerated; “Chocolate Nemesis” cake was more like chocolate pudding; and the croutons in the salad were stale.

Well, but because we were late taking off, I was treated to this sight out my window:

That was nice.

I chose my hotel here in Belfast for its central location. I think it’s supposed to have either four or five stars. I’d booked an “Executive” room, which turns out to be their bog standard, and which does not include a bath tub. For that you need to have at least a “Deluxe” room, and pay £20 extra per night.

Yes, I did. When I’ve been out exploring all day, I want a hot bubble bath. End of.

And looky what was perched on the taps:

Interestingly, there was one of them in the bathroom of the first room I was given; the one without a tub. The sea serpent seems to be a symbol of this hotel, for reasons I do not know. Here he is without his wrapping:

And—also interestingly—when you put him in the water, he keels over on his side. Every single time.

I’m calling him Cecil.

UPDATE: Apparently, this guy is a seahorse, not a sea serpent. I still don't know the connection. And I'm still calling him Cecil.

But another interesting thing: my bathroom here has a sink, a tub and a shower (which includes a rain shower option). I was given two bathrobes, two pairs of slippers, two sets of very nice towels, two shower caps and two "grooming kits". They left a single bar of soap.

Also: four or five stars and the closet has those "anti-theft" clothes hangers with a single pin stem that fits into a ring around the closet rod. The ones you can only hang on the rod and therefore can't hang them over the shower rod to let your clothes that have got a soaking dry out. I didn't even know these are still a thing. 

The only thing I did yesterday was walk the labyrinth at the Cathedral Church of St. Anne. Its design is unlike any I’ve seen before; technically I wouldn’t even call it a labyrinth because you exit by a different way than you entered. But I walked it.

That’ll be the light part of this visit. Today I’ve booked a black taxi tour of Falls and Shankill. We’ll see how light or dark that is.