Narnia

One of the taxi drivers we have hired compared Belfast to Narnia: it is its own world.  Not only does it have echoes of C.S. Lewis’ voice from when he was here years ago, but it also has several paradoxes which make it so unique.  Its international airport is the size of a pole barn, while its city hall is the size of Michigan’s state capital building.  Its city hall is quite lovely, with green-tinted copper and gold trim on its eaves.  Large statues of Queen Victoria and other British nobility adorn its grounds.  Its beauty is quite striking, especially juxtaposed with the litter on the city streets.  Dave and I have been commenting on how we are slightly disappointed with the cleanliness of Belfast.  There is more gum adhered to sidewalks here than anywhere I have ever seen; almost one piece every square foot.  From our hotel window, it looks like a painter stood up on top of a roof and shook a very large paint brush that carelessly speckled paint onto the sidewalks.  The gum chewers (rather, gum spitter-outers) are only rivaled by Belfast’s smokers.  There are so many smokers, one would think that the entire city of Belfast is trying out for a Marlboro commercial.  Perhaps the only people not smoking are the armed police officers.  I specify armed police officers instead of just plain ‘ol police officers because Belfast is the only town/city in the UK with armed police officers, due to its violent religious/sectarian history.  It seems natural, then, that one would find a fortress, er, police station housed within twenty-foot tall brick walls topped with barbed wire.  Our hotel, a quick walk from the police fortress, is in the heart of Belfast.  Downtown Belfast reminds me of downtown Chicago; it is very busy and congested.  Angry taxi drivers cut off double-decker busses whose wheels roll over the curbs and almost clip pedestrian toes; business people quickly brush past tourists viewing the city through a camera lens; Protestants and Catholics march down streets deriding the other side (OK, maybe that part is just Belfast).  However, just a ten minute walk from central Belfast, one finds the botanical gardens at Queen’s University; its contrasting serenity with the bustle of downtown Belfast is akin to walking through the wardrobe.  The expansive green space is a true gem of the city.  The greenery is surrounded by all sorts of fauna and secret gardens tucked behind ivy.  It is a pleasure to walk Toby down the many meandering paths.  Although, one part of the botanical gardens we do not know if Toby will be allowed to walk in is the Palm House, a tropical greenhouse.  We both would like to make a trip into that building to look at the greenery with origins in the south Pacific that has been transplanted to the north Atlantic.  In fact, the weather in the north Atlantic is also a far cry from that of the south Pacific.  It has rained every day so far.  Sometimes we will have a precious few hours of blue sky…until the clouds roll back in and squeeze out their frigid liquid in full force.  One would think that with all of the rain that Belfast receives, some of it would have washed away the gum and cigarette butts.  But, then Belfast wouldn’t be Belfast, and it wouldn’t be comparable to Narnia.  Without all its quirks: speckled gum, used cigarettes, armed police, and magical botanical garden, it would be just another city in the UK with rain in the forecast.