just one of those wonderful summer days

Last month I had one of those saturdays that you just wish you could frame and hang on the wall.
Midmorning, I woke up from a delightful dream with a smile on face. I showered, breakfasted and went out to face the world.

The sun was shining as I walked down Ormeau road and I felt warmed to the toes. Beyond the City Centre gleamed the metal angel as she stood guard over the river Lagan. The Lagan itself was on improved behavior.. the awful stench that usually eminated from it was subdued.
I continued along the river beconed by the strange sight of towering boats in the horizen. I vaugly remember hearing something about a Maritime fest going on that month so I walked further to investigate.

The Tall Ships were berthed on both sides of the River Lagan, at the Abercorn Basin and Queen's Quay beside the Odyssey, and at Donegall Quay. Some of them were reproduction pirate ships and others were well maintains historical fishing boats. They bore wonderful names on the side.

The Jeannie Johnston (right), a replica ship, was loaded with information of the Great Famine which impacted Ireland in the 9th Century.

A Swedish built ship, the Zebu (left), held strong as one of the last traditional sailing ships to travel the world. The crew was busy tying the sails and preparing the deck for visitors.

Another of the eight ships, the Grand Turk, a full size replica of the 18-century Royal Navy frigate HMS Blandford, proudly boasts a number of telivision and movie appearances. I queued for approximatly 20 minutes until I got to step aboard. The interior of the ship seemed much more spacious than I had imagined. One object seemed very out of place in the belly of the boat and made me smile a little. It was a shining black motorcycle tied in the center under the grating. It seemed like something to be lying around in a James Bond Film. Perhaps he would find himself trapped in the ship and burst out in all resplendent glory astride that ridiculous cycle.

Following my slow tour of the ships I wandered over to Clairdon Quay where a lively continental market was being held. After wandering past the tantilizing smells at each both I settled for the German tent. The aroma of Currywurst is what won me over, it reminded me of my week in Germany. I carried my wrapped wurst, bap and coke over to the tables. They were clustered around a large stage where blues and jazz was being played. I couldn't think of any better music to listen to on such a fine day! The lead singer crooned out the jazz standards like a Chicago native. When she finally spoke, I couldn't believe the strong Irish accent she had. With my few remaining coins I purchased a long string of blue licorish and a double 99. As I felt my skin turning a faint shade of pink I ambled back up the road towards the city.



There seemed to be quite a bit of activity around the Custom House Square and people with strange make-up and costumed filled the area. I followed the music to Alberts Clock and found the end of a parade winding past. There were carnival bands from Belfast, Brazil, Berlin, Ireland and Scotland filling the square with noise and color.


After the parade the participants gathered at the square for a grande finale. Trapeze artist swung from ropes in the open air and drum corps beat out complex rhythms. There were fire jugglers and clowns to keep the crowd laughing. The whole lot of people seemed very joyful and it was hard not to smile and nod along.


I took the route back along the Lagan hand noticed a large crowd. I wasn't about to miss anything else dramatic that day so I walked closer and noticed a tour was about to depart. I followed the group past the Lagan lookout and into the dam. We took about 50 steps down into the depths of the wier. At last the guide annoucned we were 10 metres under the river itself. We followed the tunnel under the river and stopped in the middle. I disovered that I was standed exactly on the border between county Antrim and county Down. It was a unexciting event but interesting nonethe less. The tunnel walls were damp with condensation and I was anxious to move along to the outdoors. I hadn't really expected that sort of tour, but when you hang along uninvited you can't really complain. The guide also noted that this was one of the last tours of the tunnel ever. She said this with such conviction and seriousness that I nodded, eyes wide in mock amazement.

After that, I decided that I had too much excitement for one day and finally headed home. After my tea I noticed my entire face and arms had turned an angry red color. Sunburned.. in Ireland?! This WAS a day of discovery!