The Giants of Norn Iron
As we continued our tour around the idyllic and viridescent island of Ireland, we weren’t exactly sure what to expect upon reaching the northern border – or even if there was one. Growing up hearing about the crises faced here, now coupled with the gift of Brexit, meant we had little idea what would greet us upon arriving at the European Union’s final frontier. Turns out, not much at all. As we traversed the perforated line on Google Maps that separates County Donegal with Derry/Londonderry, thankfully, there was nothing to denote any change to the ‘soft border’ policy. Had I have wanted to sneak into the UK without any questions being asked at all, this is certainly the place to do it.
Nevertheless, despite the absence of border controls, there were plenty of signs that we had, indeed, entered a new nation. First, minor changes like road signage font, speed measurement units, and an abundance of Union Jacks took our attention. Then, as we continued towards the great Derry Walls, more profound differences started to emerge. The homogenised chain stores ubiquitous with every British retail park almost immediately returned, everything from Home Bargains to Sports Direct to Argos. In addition, whilst the Republic appeared to entirely shun characterless large-scale housing developments, our first foray into the North felt like we were cruising through a Barratt Homes showroom – not all that appealing.
However, upon exploring the city for the first time, the centre of Derry/Londonderry was legitimately pleasant – packed with historic bars whilst being a mural hunter’s paradise. Also, our arrival just so happened to coincide with the Derry City Jazz festival. What a glorious treat! Although, after watching the local community college attempt their third rendition of Take The A Train in a torrential city square, we almost wished we had arrived on any other weekend. Despite the typically British weather, we deemed it necessary to brave the elements and take a promenade atop the city’s famous walls and were glad we did so. We were rewarded with an impressive view of one of the finest examples of a walled city in Europe, so the brochure goes, as well as of every pub and bar within a three-mile radius, which we then went about visiting each in turn.
Following a brief detour to the northern seaside town of Portrush, we continued along the coast towards Northern Ireland’s most photographed object: no, not Liam Neeson, the Giant’s Causeway. Formed a little over fifty million years ago, the forty thousand or so visible basalt columns begin a geological path that continues under the North Sea towards the Inner Hebrides. Despite being the most visited tourist attraction in the country, the site is so vast that one can easily find a column or two to perch upon and listen to the legendary tale of Irish giant Finn MacCool and Scottish giant Benandonner who built the causeway in order to meet and have a scuffle. However they were formed, they are a quite astonishing sight whose rugged backdrop could easily be confused with somewhere far more remote, a Hawaiian island wouldn’t be too much of a stretch.
Just a sliver over an hour down the M2, for nothing is that far away in Northern Ireland, sits its capital: Belfast. As we toured the city for the first time we, completely unwittingly, found ourselves driving through one of the ‘peace gates’ that separate the predominantly republican and nationalist Catholic neighbourhoods from the predominantly loyalist and unionist Protestant neighbourhoods. Whilst much has changed over the last thirty years or so, it was remarkable to see that the two communities are still parted by thick iron gates and walls up to eight metres tall. Whilst I have skirted through a couple of war-torn nations, I have never witnessed anything quite like it.
The city is also home to the Titanic Museum, where one can find more memorabilia than just about anywhere on earth not located two thousand fathoms under the Atlantic Ocean. One can even follow in Jack and Rose’s footsteps by descending the renowned Grand Staircase, for an extra fee of course. During our week exploring the city, combined with the previous three discovering Norn Iron, we didn’t feel a connection or an attraction to it as we had to its neighbour. Counterintuitively, we both felt more at home south of the border than we did in our ‘home nation’ and, despite making the most of our time there, were looking forward to returning to The Land of Saints and Scholars. On to Dublin.
J
