The Upper Lake

The Upper Lake

St Kevin’s Church ruins and graveyard as part of the ‘Monastic City’

Wicklow Gap

Wicklow Gap

Darren

Me

A commemoration of a huge feat of engineering and a time when ship-building was one of the largest industries in Belfast: this fine city built the biggest ship in the world, donned “practically unsinkable”, later changed to simply “unsinkable” by local press. Taking 3 years to complete by 3,000 workers and costing $7.5 million (1912) the ship was a beast at 882.9 feet long and 92 feet wide, 59 feet high from water level, and weighed over 46,328 tons.

The scale of accomplishment is worth celebration, yes. To be a first class passenger would have been a great experience; and if you pay enough you won’t have to look hard enough to find a restaurant serving up a menu given to those first-class passengers. However, beyond being a huge ship — the biggest of its time — I find it difficult to get over the fact that it did indeed sink, killing 1,513 of its 2,224 passengers. There were not enough lifeboats, as White Star Line didn’t want to cut into the passenger’s space on the promenade deck, let alone the fact that the living conditions were pretty dire for those in steerage; closer to the engines it was noisy and cramped, with locked gates between them and first and second class decks where the lifeboats where.

We have a whole area of the city rebranded in its name: The Titanic Quarter. Complete with shops, a college, apartments, bars, and corporate business; “maritime disaster to urban status symbol“. Frames Complex has changed its name to Titanic, you can eat ‘salt and vinegar’ flavoured Titanic crisps, there’s The Dock café (a front for a Christian meeting place, but that’s a different topic), ‘Titanic’ burgers are being sold in St Georges Market, complete with “iceberg lettuce”. Why not wash it down with a mug of Titanic Tea, or drown your sorrows with a pint Titanic Beer. It’s beyond ridiculous and completely insensitive.

The recent wave of marketing towards the Titanic, by local councils and tourist groups for the region, backed by far too much money and the ability of some very clever marketing people, while lauded as a celebration of “glory and disaster” has led to a wave of “disaster tourism” and a number of people simply cashing in on the gullibility of those who feel that a tea towel or ice cube holder is a sufficient way of remembering this tragedy. While sectarianism may have been a part of life in Belfast at the time, the fact that “Catholic workers were often excluded from the workforce because of their religion”, as William Crawley discussed, hails of glorifying the very issue.

Belfast man William Neill, now a Professor of Urban Planning at Aberdeen University in Scotland, was quoted as saying that he acknowledges Belfast’s shipbuilding history and it’s “unique” place in the Titanic story, but is concerned that the city is trying to cash in with Titanic “infotainment” with its new Titanic centre.

Constructed as a near-replica of the original Grand Staircase on board the ship the staircase which has caused much controversy in recent weeks is situated in the 750-capacity Titanic Suite conference and banqueting hall, yet mere members of the public are not given permission to see it, beyond admiring photographs elsewhere in the visitors’ centre. Unless of course you have celebrity status. A modern tale of class-based discrimination?

While the experience of the Titanic Belfast visitor centre may be one to enjoy and remember: it is a beautiful building from the outside, and, from first-hand reports, what has been done on the inside to celebrate Belfast and its ship-building industry of a day gone by is done tastefully and with much hands-on interactivity. However, this is £97m which could have gone into working on what is left of the industry in Belfast: the dry dock and pump house, Clendon Dock, the Drawing Rooms and other artifacts, which have left to all but rot under the watchful eye of residents, and this new wave of tourists. Hopefully it won’t become the white elephant that some predict it will.

All photographs copyright © Phil O’Kane

I am anti-Titanic. Why? Because it is continuing the idea of Belfast being known for all the wrong reasons: a ship which sank and killed hundreds of people, George Best; a wife-beating, alcoholic footballer, The Troubles, home to the most bombed hotel in the world (The Europa), Snow Patrol (I jest). No, we mustn’t forget the Titanic, though if only it was done more respectfully. We don’t need it to be our Disneyland.

The pneumatic tyre and the tractor were invented in Belfast? Belfast’s Sirocco Works invented air conditioning and the Royal Victoria Hospital became the first building in the world to be fitted with air conditioning. Shorts Aircraft Factory pioneered Vertical Take Off and Landing (VTOL) aircrafts in the 50’s when Sir James Martin invented the aircraft ejector seat. Professor Sir Frank Pantridge, born in Hillsborough and educated at Queens University invented the portable defibrillator, which saves thousands of lives each year. (info).

A grand ship yes, but with an unforeseen outcome, one which Belfast shouldn’t be particularly proud. The History Press used available research in order to provide historically accurate tweets from the first person perspective of the crew, passengers, captain and engineers, following the ship as it left on its journey to its demise in the North Atlantic on 15th April 100 years ago. Personally, I find it a hugely morbid affair.

#firstclass Those poor souls floating in the ice cold water, I want to pull them into the boat but others resist. Why?

— TitanicVoyage (@TitanicRealTime) April 15, 2012

A similar attempt was performed by RMS Titanic, Inc.

April 15th 3:00AM: Water became quiet; screams from the water stopped.

— RMS Titanic, Inc. (@RMS_Titanic_Inc) April 15, 2012

As Mark Simpson recently said: “There is a thin line between embracing the Titanic legacy in Belfast and exploiting it.”

I mentioned to my mother that I wouldn’t be buying any Easter Eggs. She appeared to be the only one disheartened by the idea. Easter is not about lining the pockets of the corporate chocolate manufacturers (take that Cadbury’s/Nestlé!). And while the Pope and his cronies, all dressed in fancy attire, enjoy a mass, along with a few thousand others, many people here on Earth need to recognise the real reason we get together on such occasions.

It has always been a tradition in my family to go on some sort of family-orientated outing over this bank holiday weekend. This year, we took a walk through Tollymore Forest Park. Despite the rain, which stayed off for the majority of our 5.2km walk along the Red Trail (Rivers Trail), it was a fruitful and enjoyable exercise. Typo certainly enjoyed himself.

When we leave out the commercial crap that goes along with such times of year we realise that it isn’t about the presents, cards, chocolate or whatever else is being marketed to us in under the banner of religion: Do this to show you love a person. If you don’t buy X, Y, Z for Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Easter, Christmas you are a bad person. These events have meaning beyond religion and superficiality.

While Easter and Christmas are seen as times for Christians to reflect on their faith and relationship with God, the rest of us can use this as a time to reflect on our relationship with our family. And after all is said and done, who will pick up the phone first?

Dad, Typo and me, as taken by Chris

It isn’t the first time in the last few months that I’ve left my phone behind. It also isn’t the first time technology helped me retrieve it. Back in January I left my phone in a taxi. I called Darren on Skype and he called my phone and requested that he return my phone to me.

This afternoon while on my way from Greystones to Dublin I managed to leave my phone on the DART: On the journey I had it plugged in while I read the Observer magazine from two days earlier. The train pulled up to Connolly while I was still reading so I hurriedly put the magazine in my bag, unplugged my phone, put my iPod in my pocket and got off the train. As is usually the case when I get off a train/plane/automobile, I patted my pockets in search of all my things, including of course, my phone. It wasn’t there. I quickly ran back to the carriage I got off, walked at pace to where I was seated and asked the woman sitting in my seat if there had been a phone there before she sat down. She told me that there hadn’t. And so, rather than lift her off her seat and inspect the area currently taken up by her backside, I accepted her answer and found a space near the door to rummage through my bag and pockets again.

No doubt I looked like a crazy person as I knelt on the floor of the train heading toward Clontarf Road — an utterly foreign place to me and taking me further from the place I had to be — with less than €1 to my name and a return bus ticket to Belfast in my pocket. I got off at Clontarf Road, crossed the bridge to the northward platform and waited 3mins for the next train to Connelly Station. The time is 12.40pm and I have to get the 1pm bus home.

I made it on time.

Thankfully I had my iPod Touch, and eventually I was able to get into a wifi network offered at the Busáras. Despite having only 4 mins until the bus was to leave I managed to get the message across to Darren who got in contact with the girl who found my phone. It was then arranged that she would leave it at Pearse St Station for Anto to pick up later in the evening. I was already on the bus and had to to be somewhere that evening.

The journey home was almost an hour longer than usual. It was snowing and cold.
All I wanted was a cry and a hug.

While I knew Anto was going to pick up the phone from Pearse St Station, Find My iPhone app gave me some piece of mind that it was there. If the person who found it hadn’t been so good-natured I would have hit the ‘Remote Wipe’ button. Thankfully it is now in the safe hands of a friend.

This is the reason I love my iPhone, and why I still have my backup iPod Touch.
This is why I love iMessage, my smartphone, technology and my friends.
I do count myself very lucky sometimes.

In the large hall on the 2nd floor there was a band playing Irish music as well as line-dancing(?) with a stereotypical Irish entertainer, almost too stereotypical for me. However, it was here that we had our first pint of Guinness of the day and boy was it something to behold. Straight from the source it was ultimately refreshing and satisfied the craving I didn’t realise I had. During the course of the tour we had the absolutely greatest Beef & Guinness Stew in the ‘Brewers Dining Hall’. There was a vibrant atmosphere in the venue throughout the day, all levels filled with people milling about, enjoying the experience, the drinks and the view from the top, which is superb.

American Tourists

First pint of the day

In my own view, the Guinness Storehouse is a fun way to spend St Patrick’s Day, yeah it’s quite touristy, but much less so than the likes of wandering Temple Bar and running into drunken fools; an inevitability on this day. I did forgo my plans to continue not drinking on this day, as I had done for the 4 weeks prior, however, when my plans were civil and in the company of friends (and the drink was free) I couldn’t not.

As for me, I still don’t enjoy the idea of a national drinking day. I am partial to a pint of Guinness, however. My St Patrick’s Day was perfect. Darren and I started the day in the Pro Cathedral, for 11.30am mass. It was a nice service, sadly the sound wasn’t great, though with a little straining we did hear the priest talk of spreading the word of faith and how non-believers will not reach heaven. Never mind that, afterwards we explored the beautiful church, filled brilliant deep reds and great architecture.

On leaving the church I understood why people do it, particularly on days like this one; overrun by superficiality and drunken debauchery. Spending an hour in the solace of your own thoughts, the serenity of the building, the community affair, the reverent, spirituality which fills the mind as one enters and leaves such a place has a way of preparing one for such a day ahead, and to have a remain with different mindset. To ignore the superficiality.

It’s like

If you were hanging out with your friend and your friend turns to you and says, “Hey I don’t know if you noticed but you just stepped on my foot, can you please stop”, I am guessing most people would say, “Oh man, I’m sorry,” and maybe watch where they were walking a little better.

You probably would NOT:

• Yell at your friend for accusing you of stepping on their foot
• Deny that you had stepped on your friend’s foot
• Argue with your friend over how you step on everyone’s feet equally, so it shouldn’t matter
• Insist that you didn’t step on their foot that hard, so it couldn’t have hurt them
• Get offended over the implication that the way you walk is wrong
• Say “okay, but what about MY foot?”
• Step on your friend’s foot more to show how it isn’t even a big deal and nobody cares about people stepping on each other’s feet anymore
• Reference that one time when your friend stepped on YOUR foot and you didn’t complain
• Tell them you didn’t mean to do it, so you’re not responsible for stepping on their foot
• Deny that your friend has a foot

And I mean sometimes the person isn’t even a friend or someone you know but that doesn’t matter, don’t fucking step on people