Friday in Belfast

When I used to travel with my own young family, I'd plan each day in advance. There would be flexibility, but there were anchor points that formed a structure. We'd see the great sights, we'd ramble along ancient walls, up tall towers, inside expansive art galleries. Later, with Ed, I abandoned that. He was flexible (or you could say indifferent) as to what we'd see and if we didn't get to major sights, that was alright with him as well. I knew to skip crowded places (Ed does not like the chaos and noise of crowds) and I understood that a trip to a museum would take a very long time as he tends to read every posted notice or commentary. Eventually we would avoid big cities altogether and I more or less stayed with that model after he stopped being my occasional traveling companion. Apart from Paris, I rarely explored unfamiliar to me cities. I'd get to the countryside as quickly as a train would carry me there.

Now, in Belfast, I'm following a different model: I let the parents set the day's agenda. (It's not as if they make choices that would differ much from my own.) I sit back and let them lead the way.

The day starts early for me in that I wake up and say a silent thank you for the beautiful weather on this longest day of the year. (The room view again, in the very wee hours of the morning...)






And I pass on silent anniversary wishes to my daughter and her husband back home. Five years! So much happiness and love! May the sun shine ever so brightly on them always!

And now it's time to focus on the day ahead. Of course, we all start with breakfast. I come down first, for a pre-breakfast snack...






... soon to be joined by the happy, well rested and playful family.






It's a bit late in coming (they basically forgot about our food), but it's good (all that Irish smoked salmon!) and honestly, we all enjoy taking things slowly for a change.






Our first real sightseeing begins immediately after: we walk over to the Botanic Gardens.






You could say that this is special for everyone: the quiet simplicity of a park for the kids, the calm promenade for the grownups. But I would wager that I was the one with the greatest benefit -- I spend a wonderful handful of minutes in the most beautiful rose garden I'd ever seen...





















... and romp with Snowdrop between herbaceous borders.






I've said this before -- these flowering borders are at their finest in the UK and especially in the early days of summer. It's not that you wouldn't find these very flowers elsewhere, even in my farmette flower fields...






But viewing a professionally sculpted border is always simply sublime! Yes, welcome to summer my friends and beloveds! Welcome to this season of flowering landscapes!







From here, it's one step to the Ulster Museum. (I find it interesting that the name belongs to the province of Ulster which, perhaps you know, was split in two in 1922, with nine of its districts forming Northern Ireland and three remaining in the Republic of Ireland.)





This is a place of history and ethnography, of technology, of art, of children's exploration.

One children's section is closed due to a school group, but there is another room devoted to art for kids. And it is quietly empty.

True, it is rather basic in scope, but Snowdrop and Sparrow love it.


 


You could say that Sparrow really relaxes, for the first time, here, laughing and scooting as is his fashion back home.






And Snowdrop? Well now, there's paper, there are crayons. She sets to work. First, drawing together with her dad...






... then continuing on her own.






We do go back together to the paintings I had looked at (and adored) earlier. Again, it's an empty space, perfect for coming in with an enthusiastic little one ...






... I challenge her to find her own favorites. She loves this assignment and soon picks out a collection that is uniquely Snowdropian!






(We encounter the school group in the gift shop. Snowdrop tells us that she is very glad her school does not require uniforms.)






Lunch is at a place called the Barking Dog. And this has to be truly shocking: it's just perfect weather for eating outside at a picnic table.






Sparrow continues to giggle his way through the afternoon...


 


... and Snowdrop -- well, she just keeps falling in love with her surroundings. She tells us that she will go to college then continue to live in Belfast! She loves it so much! (The college of her choice? Queens. This one: )






We don't know what grabs her about Belfast and we don't probe. She is enchanted. That's all that counts.






Three of us return to the hotel to rest (I'm among those choosing to break for a little bit), two make it over to a playground. And then we join forces once more.

We walk over to a place called Home for dinner. Again, it's casual and very fresh and honest.






I'll end the post with a huge grin at the kids:











Both were spectacular travelers and their excitement was our excitement!

Last walk, back to our hotel...






It's late, but of course, the sun is still out. Still, time to draw the curtains on this beautifully long day.


 


Tomorrow, we leave for Scotland.

to Northern Ireland!

Excitement. Good kind, challenging kind -- some is unique to travel, and that travel brand of adventure brings with it rewards, always. Either of overcoming, or of having great stories to recount.

Today's adventures started on the lovely and tame end of the continuum. A wake up with my grandgirl and play in our hotel room...





Messages about Sparrow sleeping through the night and then some! All good stuff. We meet up for breakfast downstairs. It's included with the room so we eat a lot!

Hi Sparrow!






Snowdrop is very glad to see her brother again!






Some of us have some down time and so we walk to the park -- St Stephen's Green. It's a short walk, along this street...






And the park is lovely, in the way that so many parks in Europe and especially in the UK islands and Ireland are lovely!










Foxgloves!





And playgrounds!






(Gaga, does it really look like I want to ride this horsie?")






("I'm okay with the swing...")






The weather continues to be shockingly grand. (Meaning it's not raining all the time.) Note Snowdrop refuses even a sweater.






True, every other child is bundled in jackets and such, but our girl is from Wisconsin! Hardy and rarely cold! Her brother? Well, there's just not much time for that nap, so he needs to let go, in the strangest of places...






By noon, we head for the train station. The hotel staff cant believe it -- you're walking? With the little girl and the sweet lad? And the suitcases? You can't do it, the station is far.

Yes we can!





We stop off at Peaches to get sandwiches and a sweet treat for the little girl and then trudge on.

Here's our first big hiccup of the day: the train crew people inform us that there is a security issue on the tracks. Half way, we'll have to get off and a bus will take us from there to Belfast.

Well now. We have a double stroller. Folding it requires taking it apart. We have bags galore. How will this play out?

This is Ireland. A grandmother, traveling with family and young ones will not be left to manage. "We will help you" is the recurrent theme.

The train is magnificent in the way that so many trains on this continent are magnificent. Snowdrop is so excited: "it's my first time on a train! It's my first time!"

There is a lot to be excited about!















In the end, the train does come to a grinding halt before its final destination, but as promised, a million hands help us with the transfer and it isn't to a bus: merely another, lesser train that will run along different, less troubled tracks.

None of us have ever been to Belfast before. It's clearly not a huge tourist destination because the hotels here are perhaps one third the cost of those elsewhere. We're at the Fitzwilliam -- another bargain at a very comfortable place. The young family is together now in a family room and I'm off in my own quarters, here:






With a view toward the edge of town and the hills beyond.





With the exception of one or two nights, I let the young family make all dinner choices. So long as it's reasonably priced and not more than a 20 (well, okay -- 23!) minute walk each way, I'm up for anything.

(Do we ever get rained on during these dinner walks? All the time! It rains, it clears. It rains, it clears.)





Today's selection (Molly's Yard) is modest, intimate and wonderful.

By the meal's end, both kids are tired. To say the least!






Still, their moods mostly hold. As if it were just another night, where dumplings come alongside goat meat...






... and chocolate ice cream isn't really chocolate, nor ice cream at all. Travel does this to you: it teaches you to roll with the punches. That there are bigger values at stake than merely getting everything exactly right and as you expected.


It's 10p.m. now. The sun hasn't set yet and still, I do believe every member of the young family has long been asleep.