Buns2025: Day 13 – Belfast

Soundtrack: “Down among the dead men”, Flash and the Pan

Titanic.

But first, the quest for breakfast. I wanted to find whatever a traditional Northern Ireland breakfast was, to collect the full set. With no handy potato cake company to be found, I went seeking a pub or traditional looking café, though hindered by my eSIM being slow and crap. I was further hindered by NI licensing laws, that mean pubs don’t open until 11.30am on weekdays, something I learned from a chap who was tidying the footpath seating of a pub I found. He told me that the couple of Aussies they had on staff also thought the 11.30am was weird. He also told me I needed to go to Munch, their breakfast would set me straight. I couldn’t go through the laneway opposite that was closed because the building next to it was about to fall down, but gave me directions to avoid being buried under rubble.

Munch now appears to be called Mango, and I found it easily as it has lots of flags out front. Inside, are friendly staff and décor somewhere between the weird diner I went to in Manila, and a Guy Ritchie take on a diner. Possibly a bit dialled sown on both, but the walls were covered in movie stills, quotes, and random pictures. But thankfully no cars sticking out of walls. The breakfast menu was indeed comprehensive, in addition to offering a full English and a full Irish, they had various levels of Ulster fry, from the George Best normal, through to the Titanic (XXL). I went with one step down from that, The Giant’s Causeway, and a pot of tea. It was certainly a decent serve: beans, black pudding, hash brown, mushrooms, bacon, sausages, potato bread, tomato, and fried eggs on a soft bread. Enough to put the Ulster fry into second place in British Isles breakfasts (basically the full Scottish is first, the Ulster fry second, then full Irish, English, and Welsh sit third). The Scots have it on account their black pudding is better. While Mango/Munch didn’t have tea coseys, the milk did come in a cute little miniature milk churn.

Titanic.

Built in Belfast, held together with more rivets than the Eiffel tower. While the Eiffel was built to be a temporary structure, it still stands today; Titanic was built to last the ages, and, well, we know how that ended up.

I’ve been fascinated with the Titanic since my youth: disasters, dinosaurs, and Dr Who were my specialist topics by about age 5. At that age I read everything I could, watched everything I was allowed, yet still managed to spend some time outdoors (ah the days before the internet). A time of discovery and imagination: before the wreck had been found and long before James Cameron put his stamp on things. Even at that tender age, I could tell you exactly how many dinosaurs went down with the Titanic (then, as now, the answer is zero). However, there had been dinosaurs on Dr Who.

So with the weight of all that history, today was always going to be an emotional day. Combine it with an ordinary night’s sleep, a cold, and the last few weeks of stuff, yeah, it was a bit rough in places. I’ll admit I got a little teary the moment the first huge yellow Harland and Wolff girder came into view.

The Belfast waterfront pays tribute to the generations of ship builders who’ve worked here throughout the centuries, from wooden ships in the 17th century through to the current day. It also pays tribute to the Game of Thrones teevee series through a series of stained glass panels plonked strategically around the area. For various reasons I’m yet to watch that series, but I’ve read some of the books, and don’t recall any mention of huge yellow girder cranes dominating the skyline, so I’m going to guess that whatever bits were filmed in NI, they weren’t filmed on the Belfast waterfront.

The Belfast Titanic Experience building is truly a marvel of architecture. Inspired by the White Star Line logo, it sits big and silvery by the old docks. Just as it looms into view, I could also see the Nomadic, the last surviving tender vessel that was used to ferry passengers out to the Titanic — because the ship was so huge, it couldn’t dock at every port so needed boats to bring folks out to it. After this and many more years of service, it now sits out of water, dockside, to be admired in retirement.

The Experience starts with a bit about the development of Belfast into a shipbuilding powerhouse, including all the component industries making rope, sails, all the trimmings. Then it gets into more White Star Line/Harland and Wolff/Titanic specific stuff. From the planning and development, to the design, things like of Titanic‘s four smokestacks, only three were used to expel stuff from the engines and boilers, the fourth was used for ventilation and to expel kitchen and heating smoke. Then there’s a bit of a ride through the construction, the cramped spaces the riveters had to work, how much of the riveting was done by hand: first down below there was a guy heating the rivet until really hot, then this got thrown up to where the next guy inserted it, then he got to hold it in place while one or two guys on the other side whacked it with hammers as fast as they could so it’d be in place before it got to cool to flatten. The rivets were large, we’re not talking the 100 pack of glorified tinfoil you get in Bunnings that barely hold a window shutter together, these are inch thick short rods going through thick steel plate. While the tour attempts to create a glimpse of the experience through sights and sounds and strategically positioned heating, the real deal involved workers going deaf, getting burns, and not an occupational health and safety rep to be found. Ah the good old days.

Next up was the launch once all the outer bits were attached. This was quite a spectacle, afterall even in Belfast they didn’t get to see a huge ship slide into the water every day. Then Titanic was moved to a second dock where all the important things were attached: propellors, boilers, plumbing, windows, custom furniture, and expensive crockery and silverware.

The tour takes us from Belfast to Southampton, where the first passengers boarded, then Cherbourg (where the Nomadic ferried passengers out to the ship) so they could show their handiwork off to the French, and finally Elizabethtown (now Cork harbour), where a lot of the third class passengers boarded after being thoroughly de-loused, hoping to make a new start in the USA.

Given the movie came out almost 30 years ago, it’s no spoiler as to what happens next. Basically due to a whole lot of stupidity, most of it legal stupidity, 1,500 people died.

It’s incredible to think of things we currently take for granted, when you realise they’ve only been actual requirements, rather than serving suggestions, for just over 100 years. Like having enough lifeboats for everyone on board a ship, and having people know how to use them. A new innovation: up until Titanic folks just figured it was okay to have some lifeboats, as ships wouldn’t sink so fast and help would always be nearby. Well, in this case, help was actually nearby, but the idiots in the Californian just figured the distress rockets were from a party boat, and their telegraph officer was asleep, because there was no requirement to have 24-hour communications. At least the telegraph operator had tried to warn Titanic about the ice, but Titanic‘s radio operator was busy sending passenger telegrams so told him to shut up, because at the time that’s how they rolled (“Soz, can’t talk about impending doom, gotta send out all these Titanic telegram selfies”). Just like lookouts weren’t required to have binoculars to see what’s ahead so they might actually be able to spot a hazard, say like an iceberg, with enough time to tell the driver to do something about it. Ah, those wacky Edwardians: they could build a metal tub with fine porcelain toilets and plumbing for 3,000, but couldn’t work out distress contingencies to literally save their lives.

People smarter and more learned and better read than me have looked at all the daftness around the Titanic for years and years. Heck, people dumber than me have too (I’m resisting the urge to google “did dinosaurs sink the Titanic” just because I know, I know some numpty out there has already concocted the conspiracy theory for this. For what it’s worth, I don’t think there are any conspiracy theories worth considering about the Titanic – if in doubt go with the age old idea of “don’t attribute to malice what can be explained by stupidity/ignorance”. No one actually tried to cause the Titanic disaster, but enough stupid people were around to it happen.

It makes me angry and sad. To stand before a wall of over 1,500 names. Entire families just gone. I thought I was holding it together pretty okay until I read that of the 12 dogs on board, 3 were saved and 9 perished.

I guess it helps to look at the good actions that happened: that there were millionaires helping others into the lifeboats, who went down with the ship, rather than helping themselves. Not all the millionaires on board, but at least some of them. The band that kept playing to keep up morale. The captain and crew of the Carpathian that actually put everything on the line to come to assist. That at least some were saved.

Today I got to walk the place where Titanic was built. Stand on the original granite surface where its builders stood. Ponder that, for better or worse, only the memories of the stones remain. The rest of the area has been resurfaced (there’s now an outline of the ship and areas tiled different colours to show where various features would have been); the sounds have gone (there’s a kinetic sculpture that represents the sounds of the day, though quieter); even the air has changed (and is thankfully cleaner and fresher than yesteryear). Somewhere deep inside the 5 year old child marvels at the experience.

Titanic.

Further along the waterfront, sits the HMS Caroline, formerly the second oldest commissioned ship in the Royal Navy. Over 100 years old, the last survivor of 1916’s Battle of Jutland, where the UK and Germany went head to head in the North Sea and basically demonstrated that their commanders were numpties in one of the largest and least decisive naval battles of all time. Both sides claimed victory, and a lot of people died. Now it’s a museum ship, but feeling somewhat tired and drained I settled with a stroll around outside. FYI, the current oldest still commissioned ship in the Royal Navy is the HMS Victory, the wooden ship that Nelson died on in 1805.

I was feeling a little overwrought, and also the snuffling and the coughing was ever present, so even though I stood right in front of one of Belfast’s new distilleries, Titanic Distillers, I chose not to go in. While I’m sure I could have popped in and done a tasting, I just couldn’t face fronting up to some enthusiastic employee, likely describing in great detail the various flavours and aromas I should be noticing, when my palate and nose were pretty much toast. I’m sure they are doing wonderful whiskey, and have great plans, and I’d love to try their product in the future, but sorry not today (now just watch this distillery get super popular and next time I’m in the area won’t be able to afford it’s products, just watch).

Instead I hopped on a bus back to Belfast central, and had lunch at the Crown Saloon, choosing not to try somewhere new. Had mussels and a half pint of Belfast Black, and they were both very fine. Next was the dilemma, do I go back to the hotel and rest like I should, or instead make the most of the last 2 hours of daylight and walk lots more.

Of course I did the latter, as I wanted to at least check out one of Belfast’s best whiskey stores, The Friend At Hand. Along the way I found an interesting doorway, with stairs leading up to a Life’s A Riot, a Punk Rock Shop. Who am I to pass up the opportunity to check out a place like this? At the top of the stairs was an organised chaos of clothes and records, and then inside a couple of little rooms were more of the same. The owner Billy Riot, who is also a member of the band Crackhead Control, was playing an eclectic mix of 45s, from Sex Pistols to Dolly Parton. It doesn’t get more punk than that. We had a quick chat about The Saints (the late great Chris Bailey grew up in Belfast) and Soft Cell, before I left with a CD of CBGB-inspired punk covers by Belfast punk bands. Looking forward to giving that a spin when I get home.

A Friend At Hand has a lot of Irish Whiskey. Already pretty much at my quota, I wasn’t looking to pick up a big bottle of anything, but thought I’d at least see if there was anything miniature of interest. Had a bit of a chat with the main guy there, nice fellow, about all things Irish whisky, and the crazy life of trying to have full collections of anything. Got a few recommendations of whiskies to try when I get back to Perth, ones that are available there (we both agreed there’s really not much point dragging bottles halfway around the world that can be bought in local stores). So Powers John Lane, you’re on the list. I walked out with a couple of shop-only miniatures, a 13 year old Bushmills, but not before I was allowed into the whiskey museum next door, where they pretty much have a collection of every Irish whiskey, ever. All with nice little labels “Sorry Not For Sale”. And security cameras.

Belfast has a little Xmas market in front of the town hall, lots of little stalls of mulled wine, Bailey’s hot chocolate, cheese, fudge, all manner of sweet things, and lots of little xmas trinkets. The Bailey’s hot chocolate really hit the spot (als helping replace all the fluid lost through the day from tears and drool). I also grabbed a large cookie, exercising incredible restraint. They had a little food area, with local and international foods, and the fish and chips looked gluten free, note to future self. For my first ever northern hemisphere xmas market, it was kinda cool. I get the whole lots of warm alcoholic drinks thing.

After a rest at the hotel, dinner was at the saloon again, pint, chicken and leek pie, followed by an Irish coffee — I figured I should at least have one before I leave, even though I’m not the hugest fan (I like whiskey, I like coffee, I’m not huge on the whole warm whiskey-coffee combo). This one was served in a half pint, with cream on top so it looked like a stout, and was okay. As good as these things get really.

I took a wander back past some murals, if I had more organisational energy I would have liked to do a bit of a tour of these, get a bit of the local experience around the Troubles (there are a couple of cab tours that look good, but the last thing a cabbie would want is 3 hours stuck in a car with me and my cold). From what I can see, while the Good Friday Agreement sorted a lot of things and brought general peace, and likely tapped into a weariness and willingness for everyone to try to live together, looking at some murals there are memories that run deep, intergenerational feelings on both sides that likely only require a handful of dedicated assholes to stir up again.

Tomorrow I start heading back, bus to Dublin airport, then flights to Frankfurt and finally Singapore.