the belle of belfast city…
When a pint of special-treat Strongbow Extra Cold Pear Cider in a squishy plastic glass costs £4.80 and a humble (and in my opinion, thin, although very fetching) short sleeved T-shirt £42, you know you’re at a major-level shindig. Bloody hell.
But having spent yesterday evening in the joyous company of Beyoncé herself (albeit in the less-than-joyous surroundings of the Manchester Arena, and preceded by an inexplicable support act that offered me a new and unexpected perspective on the BBC news story I’d heard earlier about the recent explosion in cases of self harm) I am none the worse bar being a bit lighter of wallet, and after a bit of a dance and myriad costume changes, flashing lights and fireworks I was up with the lark and arrived bright and early to Belfast a few hours ago – yay! I have had a delightful morning browsing round the shops and picking up an impromptu picnic for the room rather than on the grass for lunchtime (thank you, rain) – in other words, the hotel is packed and I haven’t got a room yet. It’s a hard life, right enough.
I had forgotten why I like coming here so much despite the endless timewasters, shouty phone calls and oft-drizzly weather (and even Manchester, winner of the Holy Christ, Does It Ever Stop Pissing Down award for who knows how many years in a row, was virtually tropical throughout the fourteen-or-so hours I spent there) but I am fast remembering, having wandered amongst Belfast’s residents for a bit, chatted to the ladies in M&S and listened to some old folks bickering a few yards away at the bus stop – sadly it lacks a tram (which I got to ride about on last night and will add to Manchester’s list of redeeming features as soon as I get round to making one) but that aside, I think Belfast would rate as my very favourite UK city centre outside London on the grounds that everywhere you look, there’s always something or someone worth looking at.
Beyoncé will be the belle of Manchester City until Thursday night (when presumably the mantle is returned to Carlos Tevez) but I’ll be here until Saturday first thing – woohoo! Dublin Airport follows and then a scant ten days at home (cue texts: ‘RU workin 2day? I don’t take same day bookings in Scarborough, sorry – please read my site’ x roughly 1,000,000) before my much anticipated Isle of Man trip from the 24th onward; in the meantime, get in touch!
More soon…
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