No Hot Coals

Although a walk about Belfast’s City Centre would suggest otherwise, Belfast is on the cutting edge of waste disposal.  Take, for instance, their weekly curbside compost pickup.  When we moved into our home, we were given a tidy small green box, no larger than a three gallon bucket, and told to use it for our food waste and put it out front each Wednesday.  Our faces must have looked dumbfounded: in the States, we had done composting ourselves, creating a jerry-rigged food waste system starting in our kitchen and ending with turning over the garden soil with the unused natural products.  Here, we could let someone do this for us without paying them?!  What a novel idea!  Furthermore, their weekly recycling bin will accept most anything, save a small selection of plastics and food wrappers.  Both the compost bin and the recycling box are free for use; the trash container, which is only collected every other week, requires a one-time fee.  When we arrived, our trash (sorry, rubbish) container was missing, so our landlord purchased us a replacement.  However, with all that we are putting in the compost bin and recycling box, we have been here nearly a week and only used a plastic grocery bag’s worth of trash.  A warning to us on our trash container is “No Hot Coals”, because in Belfast there is a real possibility for that to be of concern.  One of the homes we toured had a coal box out back where one could store coal for heating the house.  Yes, you read correctly: coal for house heat.  Another ancient way of heating one’s home is the use of heating oil (which is what our home uses).  I know of places in northern Michigan which used to burn heating oil but switched to alternatives once dinosaurs stopped roaming the Earth.  Heating oil is quaint, but that’s about it.  I find myself walking around with thick socks, thick sweaters (sorry, jumpers), my robe, a blanket wrapped around my body, and Toby’s head sticking out of all because his little ten pound body won’t stop shivering.  And I'm only slightly exaggerating.  The oil-primed radiators give off heat, but not near enough for someone raised on central heating.  Thankfully, though, our home has double-glazed windows (an apparent rarity here) which cuts down on some of the brisk drafts.  The technology-driven double-glazed windows are more than I can say for some of our plumbing.  Used water from our sink or washing machine can be observed pouring out of our exterior wall.  Two holes peeking out of the brick are connected by rickety PVC piping which directs the waste water into a designated drain adjacent to our home.  It appears that the Victorian-era house has not quite caught up to the modern-day plumbing or heating.  The city has forward thinking waste removal, yet a heating & drainage system stuck in time.  The quirks of Belfast never cease to amaze me and continue to provide amusing ambiguity around every corner.