Smells like New Zealand
Tuesday, May 17th, 2005I greeted Dublin from the confines of the airport coach. I descended onto the main street when, as if on tourist cue, a man began a lively jig on his harmonica. I heaved my pack on and jostled around chalk artists, acoustic guitarists, and clowns. Just another day in colourful, lively and comical Dublin. Every corner a pub. Every person a story-teller.
From Dublin we drove to Belfast through the rolling hills and green fields of the Irish countryside, dotted with stone cottages, ailing castles and sheep. Belfast’s recent and volatile political history was splattered on every wall and pavement in the form of murals, graffiti and rallying calls.
Off to Glasgow and Edinburgh next week. . .
Jyai