During the pandemic and the lockdown I said to myself, and to anyone who'd listen, that I would definitely try and see more of the places I travel, if we ever got let loose again. And have I? To be honest, not much.
It's still the regular routine that I set of for a school of art centre in the early hours, go in, do my stuff, get out and set off home without even touching the sides. I mean look at the places that I haven't taken time to properly appreciate, just in the last month: Peterborough, Beverley, Cockerton near Darlington. Okay, a) those places aren't nearly as disappointing as my dismissive reference there suggested they were. And b) I took a chance to stroll round them, cos I did a 3 day trip with overnights. Beverley has some stunning architecture and lots of good shops that would have been great if they'd been open when I was there, Cockerton saw me staying at a castle the night before, and Peterborough was also a place I went.
So when a week of classes in Northern Ireland came up, I just had to make sure I saw the sights. I saw some. Flew in Sunday, drove to Newtownards, stayed in the only hotel in town (I think, it's certainly the third time I've stayed there), and can confirm Newtownards is completely closed on a Sunday night.
Monday night in Omagh, I stayed in a guest house with a brilliant staircase. You ask your hosts "did you build the place yourself?". Of course they did. Ireland, North and South, gives the impression that half the people live in big new house - that when you look in an estate agent's window you find costs about a third what it would in England - and not only did they build it themselves, but it has a farm out the back. It was certainly the case with Laraghson House, outside Omagh, whose owner only took cash, so I had to use a cash machine for, I'm sure, the first time this year. Could I remember my PIN number? Well, yes, I could, cos I had it written down. But blimey, cash is one of those pre-lockdown things you forget you've stopped using.
On Tuesday night it was another out of town B&B, about 15 minutes out of Enniskillen, and blow me if I didn't get a whole wing of the house. A kitchenette, a whole lounge, a TV with iPLayer & Netflix, and a set of French windows opening out on to a patio that overlooked a blooming lake! I'll confess I didn't see anything of Enniskillen itself, but dammit I ate al fresco in the sun while it was raining back home. I even got visited by the pet cat. Luxury.
If it's Wednesday then it must be the Travelodge in Belfast. About which there's really not much to say. Though after my classes I met up with Davy Francis, of Oink and many many comics' fame, which was a treat. Then on Thursday night I was staying in Dungiven. That's where the mural comes from at the top of the blog.
When I drove from the airport through Belfast I saw a lot of murals and I thought I really ought to take more photos of these. To be honest, I'm not sure how the locals feel about tourists stopping and taking photos of their murals of men in balaclavas and political slogans about The Troubles. So here in Dungiven was my one opportunity to snap one. It's a tribute to Kevin Lynch - my car was parked in Kevin Lynch Place - a hunger striker who died, alongside the better-remembered Bobby Sands, back in 1981. The local hurling team is named in his memory.
Friday night was, in contrast, in Larne. I woke up to the sound of the Orange Order March. You know you're in a country in contrast when you do two overnights in a row like that. That said, of course, the kids in the classes are no different from anyone anywhere else. I would have literally no idea of where they or their families stood in the sectarian divide, if it all, and for the record, no I don't bring it up in conversation.
It's Saturday night, and I'm typing this in my hotel under the flight path of the airport. And what have I learned from my travels? Oh yes, I remember, nothing. Honestly, why do I even bother?
Next week two nights in Nottingham, two nights in Derby. This time I'll really see some sights.
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