Day 23: Glasgow

Skottland Wednesday  Dateicon  21.6.2017  Parked   Feeticon  23.82km Total: 191.55km

I head out into a grey Glasgow with a slight drizzle with my first destination for the day being the cathedral.
A very impressive building and the fact that it was a little worse for wear just added to the charm.
It would have been nice to have some sort of explanation to the bullet holes in the door to the sacristy but the only thing I managed to find out was that it was from "troubled times".
That's fairly non-explanatory since the building was erected 1136, the world have seen more than a few troubled times in the last millennia.

Right across the square is St Mungos museum of religious life and art.
A pretty bizarre mish-mash of religious artefacts and cultural traditions but still worth passing through since the entry was free.
Actually nothing I did in all of Glasgow demanded an entry fee so that was a plus.

From here it was just across the street to Provand's Lordship garden.
The garden itself wasn't particularly interesting but the row of very peculiar heads (which meaning I never understood) where pretty funny.

On my way to the city centre I come across one of the most amazing murals I've ever seen in my life.
It depicts an old man with a bird on his finger and is painted all across the gable of a four story building.
I had to Google the backstory: It's painted by an Australian street artist called Smug and took about a week to finish.
It depicts Mungo, the patron saint of Glasgow in modern day clothes.
Apparently when Mungo was young some kids where throwing stones at some Robins that where pecking for scraps on the ground.
One of the birds was hit and feel to the ground.
The boys ran away but Mungo picked it up, caressed it and prayed for it and after a while it came too and flew away.
Obviously the most reasonable conclusion wasn't the bird was stunned and came too but no obviously it was Mungos prayers that woke the little fella from the dead and thus what they had was a miracle.
I came across other beautiful street-art pieces in Glasgow but none that came even close to this.

Since I was brought up on the political left side of the street it might have been that I was simply drawn to the Peoples palace (or it could simply have been that it's in the guidebook) but regardless of what brought me there it was a pretty neat place with interesting exhibits and a really nice café in a greenhouse with a botanical garden.
I'm starting to grow a bit tired of fish & chips but in this setting it was alright.

I walk across almost all of central Glasgow to The Lighthouse, a building erected for the newpaper Glasgow Herald at the end of the 1800:s by some kind of local hero Charles Mackintosh.
Nowadays it's a museum for modern architecture and art.
That pretty much means it's a nursery for hipsters but still, the building was impressive and the view from the tower was nice.

On my way back to my "hotel" I not only get dinner, I also do my poor feet a great service by buying a new pair of walking shoes.
The old Eccos I've been lugging around has really been ready for retirement a long time ago and considering I've walked about 30kms in just the last two days in Glasgow it's pretty much an investment.


Tennant brewery, The pride of Glasgow. They hade very nice murals on the wall surrounding the brewery.
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Back at the cathedral but today I got to enjoy from the inside as well.
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A four hundred year old copy of King James bible.
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The door to the sacristy, you'll notice the row of bullet holes.
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St Mungos museum of religious life and art
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Provand Lordship garden
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They have exceptionally talented street artist in this town.
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Glasgow Cross with a 17th century tolbooth.
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Peoples Palace
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The view from the tower in The Lighthouse
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The murals here are in a class of their own.
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Day 24: Glasgow, Scotland to Belfast, Northern Ireland

Skottland Thursday  Dateicon  22.6.2017 Nordirland
Tigericon  136km Total: 4126km  Ferryicon  89km Total: 988km
Feeticon  21.72km Total: 213.27km

I go straight for the ferry terminal and I'm there with 90 minutes to spare before departure.
For the first time in a long while I (and another guy because that was all the bikes going) get to be first to board the ferry and the bikes are strapped down for us so there's no rush to get a seat on this crossing.

After a calm crossing I get to what will hopefully be the most expensive stay on this trip at the Radisson Blu Belfast because the options where extremely limited.
I've never really considered Belfast to be an overly popular tourist destination but obviously something draws people because finding accommodation here was pretty hopeless so I'll just be staying for the night.
Again I have to park the bike somewhere different to where I live where a friendly woman in reception says I can put the bike wherever I want.
I took her word for it and parked it on the sidewalk right outside the reception window and she seemed ok with that.
She finishes the conversation by saying that to get out I just need to come and talk to them again and pay £10 for the parking (even though I'd already paid more than £100 for the room).
I didn't contact anyone going in since the gap left by the road barrier was more than enough for the bike so I'm not sure if it was an appeal or how her thinking went really.
I've never skimped on any payment before but I must confess that the jury is still out on that decision.

I haven't read up on Belfast at all and have no real sights that I'm determined to see here.
Just as I felt in Sarajevo I unfortunately have no points of reference when it comes to Belfast apart from misery and the war (I absolutely refuse to call it "the troubles").
I want to at least get some kind of feel about how it is today so I head off to the different catholic (UDF) and protestant (IRA) neighbourhoods to have a look.

I get to walk by Donegall road (UDF) for all of five minutes before a car with two young guys go by screaming "fuck you and your camera" which I take to mean "welcome, please take part of and document our rich cultural life and heritage".
I had just taken a photo of an Ulster Banner and I fail to see how that really could offend anyone.
But on the other hand I was pretty much going in to all this completely blind so what the hell do I know.

I walk out of the unionist neighbourhood onto Falls road and there like magic every single flag disappear and instead there are IRA murals everywhere and it seemed every other locale is a Sinn Féin office.
That there where fresh posters urging people to not inform to MI5 felt a bit weird but it seems pretty obvious that there's still a lot of bad blood stirring under the surface here which I until I went was blissfully ignorant about.

On Shankill the flags are back and it's pretty much every other UDF-flag and Union Jack on every single lamppost.
It was more British flags than on the queens birthday.
The murals on Shankill are plentiful as well with dedications to the fallen.

When I get to the city centre all remnants of the conflict have completely disappeared.
It's very metropolitan and like the city centre in any major European city.
I wander around pretty aimlessly in the shopping streets before heading out along the pier and the Titanic Quarter, famed for housing the shipyard that built the not completely unknown RMS Titanic.
This quarter seems to be some kind of pride of Belfast and the exhibits might be spectacular but on the outside the buildings are ultramodern and in my opinion about as pretty as a shovel to the face.

By now it has started to rain so I head back to the hotel via a restaurant and make it day.
I must say that I was pretty downhearted by my walk through Falls and Shankill.
I never felt unsafe (despite the "welcome" on Donegall) but it just seems so tragic that nothing seems forgiven nor forgotten.
The wounds seem to run very deep here and there are forces at play that seem to be doing their best to make certain that the scars never heal.
It's obviously very presumptuous of me to express my modest observations as some sort of detailed analysis but I just can't shake the feeling that the ember is still there just waiting for something to fan the flame.
I desperately hope that I'm wrong.

 

It felt a bit sad leaving Scotland.
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Donegall and Killburn street
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Beechmount Avenue and Falls Road
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It wasn't like you didn't notice when you crossed between neighbourhoods, I don't understand why they don't tear it down.
An old checkpoiny at Lanark Way.
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Shankill Road
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Belfast City Hall
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Albert Memorial Clock
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Spirit of Belfast, nicknamed the onion rings.
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Day 25: Belfast, Northern Ireland to Dublin, Ireland

Nordirland Friday  Dateicon  23.6.2017 Irland
Tigericon  427km Total: 4553km  Feeticon  11.46km Total: 224.73km

I hadn't originally planned to head straight for Belfast when I got to Northern Ireland but even though I had to shorten my stay to one night I still didn't want to skip everything I'd intended to see.
So because of that the detour is pretty ridiculous as I head south via the northern coast of Northern Ireland.
Thus I start off by heading in the completely wrong direction and head for The dark hedges, an avenue of beech trees which is something of a natural phenomenon and so picturesque it's frequently used in tv and movies, for instance in HBO:s Game of thrones.

From there it isn't far to Ballymoney, the birthplace of Road racing legend Joey Dunlop and the city have made a memorial garden to commemorate him and his brother Robert (father of this years senior TT winner Michael).
I obviously couldn't miss going to Joey's Bar even though I couldn't drink anything stronger than a cup of tea.

And when in the neighbourhood... are so called famous last words but with the coast being so near I couldn't resist.
I walked for a bit along a nice hiking trail between Dunserverick and Ballintoy.
It's was very scenic and even though the winds where heavy it wasn't hard keeping warm going up and down the cliffs by the coast.
After that brisk walk I went by Dunseverick castle on my way back down towards Dublin.
The only thing remaining of what I presume once was a grand castle is just a couple of rocks from a wall to a side building but since it was erected sometime in the 400:s it's pretty impressive that there's any trace of it left at all.

So now I begin my journey south and since I had about 150kms to ride just to get back where I started this morning I only stop refill either energy or fuel.

I do a detour to a scenic route by Spelga dam which with its wuthering 365m (~1200ft) is the highest "pass" in Northern Ireland.
Even though the differences in altitude are rather modest here compared to the alps it makes a very big difference on the weather and by now like many times before the weather is pretty crap at the highest point only to get gradually better on the decent.
The weather does change quite a lot during the ride to Dublin but riding in to the city and up the Dublin tunnel it was like I'd switched climate zones, the rain clouds where gone and had been replaced by a deep blue sky and sunshine.

I check in and head out on the town.
Since I hadn't eating anything except protein bars since breakfast I felt lunch/supper was a bit of a priority with it being almost 8PM.
After a quick bite at a noodle place I walk to the Temple bar area which is a land mark in itself but more so for me personally because it's in a song by Swedish folk rock heroes môra-Per and while in the Temple Bar area why not go to the Temple Bar?
The fact that there was a very talented folk band (ladlane) playing live just made that the decision all the easier but unfortunately I wasn't more than a few sips in to my pint of the black stuff before they thank the audience and got off the stage.
Fun fact: Temple bar is noted in the Guinness book of records for housing the longest marathon guitar playing ever of 114 hours, 6 minutes and 30 seconds.

Well the bars are practically wall to wall here so even if this gig is over there's no reason to fret.
It's just a matter of walking down the street, sticking your head trough the doors and listen for the greatest tunes.
I'm not going to lie, it wasn't quite the traditional Swedish midsummer celebration but I wasn't suffering either.

I eventually end up at the Portherhouse where a trio of young lads where playing Irish folk like the place was on fire.
When they did Dropkick Murphys Shipping up to Boston I almost had an eargasm.
There where some dark stuff and a bit of amber here as well but when the band bid farewell I though it wise to do the same.
I couldn't resist sticking my head in a few other places on my walk back to the hotel but I had been a long day so I didn't really hear anything more alluring than the though of a nice warm bed.

 

So you really think I have to pay to be able to leave here on a motorcycle?
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The dark hedges or the road to Kings landing if you so will.
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Joey and Robert Dunlop Memorial garden
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Joey's bar
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On the causeway coast way
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Dunseverick castle
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Spelga dam and the pass
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Temple bar
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