Not the Cheese...

I've finally found a spare moment to write about SORRENTO! No, not the brand of processed cheeses - the Italian coastal city and vacation stop for wealthy (or in our case, broke) tourists! After our lazy day in Ischia, Matthew and I spent a whirlwind day traveling up and down the Sorrentine Peninsula and Amalfi Coast. We had intended to stay put in Sorrento for the whole afternoon, but instead, we squeezed in two more cities. Thus, we didn't have much time in any one place, but we got to see a wide variety. And that was the goal. Today I'll only share about Sorrento, which was our initial excursion of the day. It was the last stop on the Circumvesuviana train (remember, the sweaty rickety one?) and we were relieved to finally get off in an upscale tropical paradise. Of course, we had to take a little detour for espresso and gelato before getting to the town center. From my experience, Italians are outstanding experts in four things: espresso, gelato, pizza, and well-tailored clothing. I happily benefit from their prowess in these areas, especially the first three. Moving on...

This was the typical car scene outside of the fancy schmancy hotels. I almost felt transported back in time to a Cary Grant movie. Sigh.

Naturally, we enjoyed envying the other half as we wandered down the major luxury shopping streets, but I was most in my element in the market stalls. There is something comforting about being in the kitchy alleyways with all the other travelers. I don't have to worry about fitting in. I'm a tourist, everyone knows it, and it is what it is. I'm not preoccupied with trying to blend in like I am when surrounded by locals.

How silly of me to forget the fifth thing that Italians do well - LEATHER! I wanted so badly to replace my worn out purse with one of these, but none of them tripped my trigger. All beautiful, but not exactly what I wanted.

Coming from England made Italy's sky seem clearer, the sun brighter, and the water bluer. Also, England's climate is perfect for growing giant rose bushes, but I've only seen hydrangeas this huge near the Mediterranean.

Aren't they lovely? Couldn't resist a flower pic.

Also in the abnormally large category were the lemons. Most of them looked more like melons. Matthew and I have a problem with collecting random containers, and we got suckered into buying an awesome little bottle of lemoncello here. It has made it all the way to Houston, and we have yet to drink a drop of it. But the bottle is just so glorious.

Where the shopping in Sorrento ends, the swimming begins. There are two large marinas at the base of the city's cliffs. One is for boats, and the other is for beaches and lounge chairs. At this point I regretted not throwing my swim suit in my bag that day.

The marina was filled from wall to wall with umbrellas, and it's easy to see why so many people flock here to relax.

Check out the crystalline waters! Now that is a swimming hole!

Behind us is the transportation marina. This balcony above the ports had magical views. Across the bay Vesuvius was barely visible, and the surrounding hotels were ultra classy. I imagine the French riviera to be similar. We saw several newlyweds taking pictures up here. What a gorgeous backdrop.

Speaking of weddings, this driver was waiting in a getaway car for a bride and groom. Isn't he just too cool for school? I was cracking up at how hardcore he was trying to look while sitting in a slug bug with a bow on the front and roses in the back. He was all about posing for my camera.

Shortly after passing the bridal parties, we decided we had covered the highlights of Sorrento, so we headed back to the train station. Upon arriving earlier that morning, we had seen charter buses bound for Positano and Almafi and thought we could find a schedule. Sure enough, we did. And it was insanely cheap for a day pass. I think we paid 6 euros a piece for unlimited bus travel. (Compare that to a ferry from Sorrento to Amalfi which would have cost around 50 euros.) I popped a dramamine while we waited on our ride. I had been warned of the twisty turns coming my way. Oh, and quick travel tip: when using public transportation, take a picture of the timetables you are using. We took a couple photos of the bus schedule that was posted at the train station because we knew it was reliable, and we have been stranded before at a mislabeled stop. If you have the pictures, then should you lose track of time while exploring, you always have the timetable with you and can see when the next scheduled bus will come along. It's very handy.

Finally, I'd like to leave you with some iconic Italian scenes from Sorrento.

The mutant lemons are inescapable.

As are the Vespas.

But who would want to escape this? My goodness.

Because I wanted to avoid being rude, I did not photograph another typical scene... beggars. They were perched on every church stair and walked up and down the trains looking for handouts. I know I sound incredibly calloused, and I honestly don't know how it's possible to show compassion in those situations. I have a heart for the disadvantaged, but it is easy to become jaded. On the Circumvesuviana from Naples to Sorrento, Matthew and I sat across from a woman and her young son. He was probably 5 or 6 years old. The entire way, they were laughing and playing games with each other. I thought they looked slightly destitute, but they certainly didn't appear poverty-stricken or in pain. They got off the train alongside us, and we parted ways. I didn't think much of it until later when Matthew and I were walking past a church near the tourist shops. Sure enough, that same lady and her son were sitting on the steps of a church! She was looking incredibly sad with the boy laying in her lap pretending to be ill. And they had a paper cup sitting beside them to collect charitable donations! I couldn't believe it, but Matt and I are 100% positive it was them. How can I see that firsthand and not be skeptical of every person asking me for change? I understand that desperate times call for desperate measures, but how can I discern who is genuinely in need? It is convenient for me to pass judgment while sitting in my brand new, air conditioned home in middle America, and I don't think there is an easy answer. I guess I'm just admitting that I struggle. I am often torn between pessimism and sympathy.

Well, that was a long addendum, but sometimes these things just make their way from my brain to my fingertips. I'm looking forward to showing you Amalfi and Positano as soon as I can. My new job starts on Monday, and I'm using my last days of complete freedom to tidy the house and run errands. (Fun.) Matthew officially started class yesterday, and he's busy already. Last night he was watching lecture videos involving cadavers and scalpels. Yuck. I have a feeling this is only the start of medical school insanity, but he is over the moon to be studying something he finds fascinating and purposeful. I'm a proud wifey. Anyway, ya'll come back over the next few days, and I'll try to get another post done! Adios!

Is-key-yuh...

After something like 12 hours of sound sleep (in air conditioning!!!) Matthew and I were ready for a lazy day at the beach. Mrs. T had recommended that we visit the island of Ischia. She left perfectly detailed instructions on how to find the ferry and buy our tickets, and she graciously provided us with beach towels and gear for fun in the sun. We got a late start that morning, but managed to make the mid-day ferry after assistance from some friendly locals. (Regrettably, thanks to the not-so-friendly ticket man, we paid for 3 round trips instead of only 2. Oh well. Maybe we should have brushed up on our Italian language skills before the trip.) The ferry ride was quite pleasant and gave us great views of the port and other surrounding islands.

Pulling into Ischia's main port, we passed this pretty light house. Warning: We saw several lighthouses during our time in Italy, and I thought they were enchanting. So there will probably be more pictures of them. Someday I'd love to live near one.

Unfortunately, it took us FOREVER to finally get settled in our beach chairs on the far side of the island. We had a mishap, getting off the bus a few stops too early, and then having to wait in the blistering sun for the next bus to come by. Needless to say, I jumped immediately into the Mediterranean once we found our oasis. (The sand was beyond hot, and we tried to tough it out on our towels, but we caved. Those loungers and umbrella were the best 10 euros spent all day.)

Matt thought the above picture of him was unflattering, so he insisted I include one of myself. Fair enough. Side note: I spared you readers from the most unfavorable shots of our fellow beach goers. To their credit, most of them were wearing tops, and the speedos weren't entirely outrageous. In a weird way, I kind of respect how confident they were, with all body types strutting their stuff in teeny weeny bikinis. I feel as if no one is really trying to show off on European beaches like they do in America. I don't know, it's just a different dynamic.

Our view for the day. The water was a refreshing temperature and surprisingly clear. We enjoyed our spot on the beach so much, that we didn't move from it. We had intended to see more of the island, including some places where The Talented Mr. Ripley was filmed. But, we were too lazy, and I was content being entertained with the Princess Diana biography I bought at a village fair for 10 pence. It was exactly the type of day Matthew and I had been looking forward to since he finished his thesis work.

Slightly burned and salty (but loving it), it was time to catch our bus and then our ferry back to Pozzuoli. A nice British woman (yes, although rare, they do exist) took our picture for us.

I can't remember which island this was, but we saw it from the ferry. I dare say I thought these Italian islands were more attractive than the Greek ones we visited. They seemed more colorful, lush, and tropical.

It would appear that I am obsessed with sunset pictures now. Funny how my point of fixation has changed over the past few months. Doors, lamp posts, flowers, sunsets, and...

... lighthouses! I can't help it. All those things are just so darn photogenic.

Another photo-worthy ending to a memorable day.

That night, we picked up take away pizzas for dinner. Happily surprised, we paid less than 7 euros for two giant, delicious, handmade pizzas! Naples is considered the birthplace of pizza, which probably attributes to the vast supply and low cost. (Comparing the purchasing power of the euro to that of the pound made us enthusiastic to return to dollars. And since we've been back in America, it is truly remarkable to see how much we can buy for how little. Gas, cosmetics, and groceries are particularly cheap and available in comparison to what we grew accustomed to in Europe.)

As I said previously, each day spent in Italy was better than the one before. Our lazy day at the beach was followed by a self-guided tour up and down the Amalfi Coast. Looking forward to sharing Sorrento, Amalfi, and Positano with you on my next post! Ciao.

Pyroclastic Flow...

From the name of this post, you may have expected to read about something science-y. Or perhaps you thought I was naming my debut rap album. Either way, you were mistaken, which is probably a good thing. You'll understand soon enough. So, today I would like to begin (finally) telling you about our trip to Italy!!! Hooray! It's only been a month since we went there. Well, better late than never, right? I kept telling myself that I would resume blogging once the new house is in order. Then, I came to the realization that there will always be a to-do list involving the house. Thus, I would never get around to writing if I waited for that time to come. Anyway, Italia!!!

Way back on June 27th, hubs and I landed at Naples International Airport in southern Italy. We'd hardly had a chance to adjust our eyes to the Italian sunshine when we were further blinded by a group of disrobing, rowdy Brits. They had waited just long enough to exit the building before their shirts came off and their beer bottles were opened. And they were white. I mean, brand new, untouched, powdery snow white. Guess they were excited to get their tan on, but it was too early in the morning for me to be seeing chubby flesh glistening with spilled alcoholic beverages. And I thought people in Oklahoma were supposed to be rednecks.

Gratefully, we were soon rescued by Mrs. T, our lovely hostess with the mostess. (Why is that an expression?) Quick explanation: Mr. and Mrs. T are the parents of one of my best friends from college. In fact, that friend also lives here in Houston now! Small world. It's smaller still when you consider that my dad and Mr. T were fraternity pledge brothers when they were in college twenty-something years ago! Crazy that the connection began so long ago. Mr. T is stationed in Naples with the U.S. Navy. He and Mrs. T generously opened their home/palace (...no really, it's a renovated palace) to Matthew and me. I cannot express how wonderful it was to stay with them. It was the lap of luxury - a 500 year old villa, complete with Renaissance frescoes on the ceiling. And ridiculously gorgeous views.

When standing on their living room balcony, this was what we saw! Seriously? Talk about a sight for sore eyes. I could have sat there all day, soaking up the rays and enjoying the bay breeze. It's easy to see why Mr. and Mrs. T love living there.

Ok, so back to the airport. Mrs. T met hubs and I to transfer our luggage to her car and to send us on our merry way to our first excursion. The sweet lady brought us water (thank God because Italy is hot!), snacks, directions, and instructions on how to get to Pompeii. Off we went on the bus headed for the train station. Finally, a rickety and sweltering train ride later, we disembarked at the ancient ruins of Pompeii. 

Honestly, I did not know much about Pompeii besides what the Discovery Channel special programs have told me. And furthermore, Matthew and I are too cheap to pay double the admission fee for a guided tour. Therefore, I must admit that I did not learn all that much from simply looking at the rocks and artifacts. We did, however, take every opportunity to hitch ourselves onto the back of tour groups and eavesdrop. I got my 11 euros worth of information.

Pompeii and the nearby village of Herculaneum are well known because they were destroyed, almost instantaneously, by a volcano in 79AD. I took this picture overlooking the main forum toward Vesuvius, which is the name of the villainous volcano in the background. Vesuvius spewed its ashes onto Pompeii from an astonishing five miles away, burying its residents under 15 feet of debris in only a few hours. Those who survived the initial blast were killed the next morning when the first pyroclastic flow of hot ash and molten gases hit. The fiery mixture clogged the lungs and caused death by suffocation. How tragic and terrifying! Needless to say, I found these ruins to have an eery and somber atmosphere.

Before I visited, I failed to understand what a thriving city Pompeii was. It was home to approximately 10,000 people, and had all the makings of an established community. There were even spas and brothels! It was amazing to see the murals and architecture that have been well preserved for nearly 2000 years.

On the outskirts of the main roads was an amphitheater. It is the oldest surviving Roman amphitheater in the world. As impressive as it was, I especially loved the cool tall trees on the right. They provided me with much needed shade. Did I mention that it was hot?

Inside the amphitheater, some of the original stadium seating remains in tact. In the center of the ground circle there was an iron spike leftover from the gladiatorial games. It would have been used for tethering animals or other adversaries for 'entertainment' purposes. Brutal. (Please excuse Matthew's crazed expression. He wasn't into having his picture taken on this particular day.)

Like I said before, I found Pompeii to be a sobering place. People spent their lives here. They were born and died here. Had families and friends (and prostitutes.) Then, it was all wiped off the face of the earth in one swoop. Sad. Very sad.  

Because of the nature of its destruction, Pompeii entombed many of its inhabitants and livestock in the positions in which they perished. The bodies were remarkably maintained by the heat and ashes. These are not plaster casts or recreations. They are the actual human beings. Again, how awful.

It seemed almost cruel to be gawking at them like this. (PS - If you ever want to find Americans in Italy, go to Pompeii. More American English spoken there than I had heard since our visit to the States in March.)

This poor woman was pregnant when she was killed by the eruption.

Last depressing image of the day, I promise. This Pompeian looks to have curled up in the corner during his (or her?) final moments.

Despite the horror and devastation, Pompeii did have a certain beauty to it. In a lot of ways, the flowers, trees, and weather reminded me of my time spent studying abroad in Spain. Must be the Mediterranean thing.

Am I the only one who wonders what the ruins from our modern-day civilizations will look like? Or is that morbid?

Pardon the couple pictures from this trip. Seems like every time we wanted to document our whereabouts, we were sweaty and disheveled. Of course, Matthew never looks worse for wear, but his smile here was slightly forced. He was hot. I was hot. Literally. Did I mention it was hot?

Officially overheated, it was time to get back to the palace. Mr. and Mrs. T were waiting for us, and so was this little bundle of joy - Lily!

Isn't she precious? Even Matthew (who is notorious for his hatred of toy-sized dogs) took a liking to her. She made us super excited to see our baby Bullitt!

Once Lily kissed us goodnight, we went up to the guestroom and watched the sun go down on the port of Pozzuoli. I'm not sure you can beat an Italian sunset. Something about the colors of the buildings is indefinably spectacular.

Thanks to the hospitality of our hosts, Matthew and I were able to afford several more excursions over the next few days. And each one got better and better. Next time, I'll take you to the island of Ischia!

H-Town...

We've been in Houston for a week now! Doesn't seem possible. There are oodles of boxes left to unpack and even more decorating/nesting for me to do. (PS - The weather is hot yet bearable, but the spiders are the bigger issue. I didn't realize how bug-free Cambridge was!) Anyway, this morning begins my first work day. Long story short (I'll share the long version soon), I have obtained a full time job during the week, which starts on August 6th. (Actually, it's more like God dropped an awesome job in my lap. I didn't really have to do anything but show up.) In addition, I'm working at a super cute boutique on Saturdays. I don't have time to type much today, but I wanted to give some sort of update. You readers are not forgotten!!! Oh, and thank you for helping me surpass my goal of 10,000 page views. We are somewhere in the 10,100s as of now!!! Awesomeness. Well, I'm anxiously awaiting time to blog again. Hope to be back soon!

Fond Farewell...

{I originally typed this post into Microsoft Word yesterday around 2:00pm GST. Since I didn't have Internet access, I couldn't upload it until now. So pretend that I am still in England and not in my uber-comfy bed in Tulsa. Gracias.}

The past 72 hours have been a giant blur. An emotional, thrilling, saddening, exciting blurry blur. I'm sitting in Heathrow airport for the last time. Said goodbye to our flat. (Not too distraught over that! But still, it was our second home as a married couple.) Said goodbye to our friends. (Devastated over that part. But I hope we'll see them again. I'm cautiously optimistic.) Said goodbye to Cambridge. Now saying goodbye to the UK with an airport meal. PS - I'm like 95% sure I just saw Neve Campbell. (She's an actress for those of you who don't keep up with Hollywood.) At least, I think it was her. It was definitely someone famous, but I could be wrong about her name. I would not be a good employee at TMZ. Anyway...

I'm trying (failing) to sort through this dream to find reality again. Hubs and I have witnessed the spectacle that is a British monarch's Diamond Jubilee. We took our picture with the Olympic torch. Unsuccessfully, we attempted to track down royalty. Unbelievably, we have brought our total number of countries visited to 15. I feel like I have a split personality right now. On one hand, I'm ecstatic to settle back closer to home. On the other, I'm gutted to see this chapter of incredible adventure close. I'm thankful. Humbled. Honored. Blessed. Satisfied. Content. Eager. And expectant.

Don't you fret; this is not the end of the Okie emigrants' tale. Who knows what the next year will bring? But, it's going to be darn near impossible to top this one.

I recently read an online article entitled, "Returning Home: Letting Go of the Magic of Travel." Don't ask me how I stumbled upon it. The author very articulately summed up a lot of the chaos that is my current mental state.

"Often the wisdom we acquire during long journeys is most evident only after we’ve returned to where we began. Coming back to once-familiar territory highlights the changes that were too subtle to notice as they occurred. So there is no way of predicting how we will adjust once we’ve come “home” – or how well others will adjust to us... 

I’m filled with fear and excitement when I wonder if I’ll be a recognizable version of my former self, or whether I’ll be able to relate with people to whom I’ve already come to feel disconnected. Is it realistic to hope for the same heightened levels of experience I’ve enjoyed for so long? Will dashed dreams lead me to scramble restlessly for a way out again, or can I create a beautiful life at home? The world I have grown used to is about to be swept out from under my feet... 

If there is one thing I’ve learned while abroad, it’s that perspective is something we can change at any time and in all circumstances. With a little shift in thought, I can see that my return to the U.S. will be as adventure-laden as my departure." 

Here's to hoping that last sentence holds true.

Once I find some free time, I'll work on telling you about Italy and our last weekend in the UK. Honestly, it could take awhile to carve out that free time, but don't give up on me. I'll finish what I started. For now, I've got some family to hug. Some friends to catch up with. A dog to pet. A house to move. Sinful amounts of barbecue, Mexican food, sweet iced tea, and chocolate malts to ingest. Most importantly, I've got Jesus to thank for sending me and my best friend on the ride of our lives.

Dublin...

Congratulations! You've finally reached the last post about Ireland! I don't know if that's more of a relief for you or for me. Clearly, I'm not going to reach my goal of telling you about Italy before we go home on Monday, but maybe I'll get some typing done on the 10 hour plane ride to Dallas. It's fairer for everyone involved that I don't cut any corners from our perfect Italian getaway. You can look forward to hearing about Pompeii, Naples, the Amalfi Coast, Pozzuoli, and the islands of Ischia and Capri. To top it all off, we watched Independence Day fireworks on the NATO recreational base. Which just so happens to be located inside a volcanic crater. But, once again I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's flash back to Dublin, the final stop on our exhausting yet exhilarating road trip!

First I must mention what a thrill it was to see a decent hotel room upon checking in. We were so excited not to be in fear for our lives. This ordinary place felt like the lap of luxury.

Here was the view down the street where we stayed. We ate lunch at the Irish pub on the opposite corner before we left for the airport on the final afternoon. Dublin was a very walkable and clean city. I know we missed out on a ton of its history because we didn't take any tours or do any research. But by that point in our adventure, we were happy to relax.

We dined like kings in our room. Bread, cheese, fruit, salad, carrot cake, and wine a la Tesco Express. I think these types of meals are officially my favorite. I promptly fell asleep as soon as my tummy was full.

Sadly, I have managed to misplace around 50 photos from the next portion of Dublin. And 'misplace' means that I have somehow lost them forever. I swear I imported them onto my computer, but they are nowhere to be found. And I have long since cleared my memory cards, so there is no chance of recovery. (Frowny face.) The good news is that these lost pictures were not the crème de la crème of my collection. I only took a few of Trinity College (Dublin's university, not to be confused with the Cambridge college), St. Patrick's Cathedral (as in the church dedicated to the patron saint of the St. Patrick's Day holiday), and Christ's Church Cathedral. Interesting tidbits: Trinity College is one of the few places where upperclassman compete to live on campus. In the first few years as undergraduates, students attempt to accumulate enough involvement and accolades to earn a spot in one of the dormitories. It's an honor to live there. Also, Trinity College's library is home to the Book of Kells. This illuminated manuscript of the Gospels and the New Testament is considered Ireland's greatest national treasure. It was created by monks around 800AD. As far as St. Patrick's Cathedral is concerned, I only had the chance to read one fun fact on the sign outside the gate. Jonathan Swift was the Dean of the church way back when. You may recognize the Swift name because he was the author of Gulliver's Travels.

On our final morning in Ireland, Tomas, Matthew, and I made a visit to the Guinness factory. I can't say that I was ultra enthused to spend the day learning about a beer that tastes like burnt coffee beans, but I wasn't miserable. I could at least appreciate the vision of Arthur Guinness (founder of the company) and the risks he took as an entrepreneur. Brave dude.

At the entrance to the factory is the 9,000 year lease that Arthur signed for the property on which the brewery sits. Who is crazy enough to enter a contract for 9,000 years??? Guess it paid off!

The atrium of the storehouse/museum/restaurant building is shaped like a pint glass. Creative architecture.

The marketing exhibit was my favorite part. Two advertisements used a few decades ago would never fly today. This is one of them.

This is the other. Racial stereotyping?

Once you make it through the entire museum, you are entitled to one free pint. Or in my case, a free orange soda. Ching ching! Sidenote: All Guinness sold in the US is brewed at the St. James Gate factory in Dublin. So the beer Tomas and Matt were drinking is the same they'd be drinking in the States.

As we were taking in the panoramic views of Dublin, Matt noticed that this girl had an Oklahoma City Thunder shirt on. Come to find out, this group of students were from Oklahoma City University! What a small small world. We had to take our picture with them. (PS - We were following the NBA championship tournament from over here, and we have really come to love the Thunder! What a class act. It helps that they have the best fans, of course. I think they should win the finals next year.)

Leaving the Guinness factory to get our luggage and go to the airport, we passed a horse-drawn carriage and a tourist bus sharing the road. Oh, and I wasn't quick enough with the camera, but we saw Irish gypsies riding on chariots. They caused a traffic jam.

YAY! DONE WITH IRELAND! What perseverance! And thanks to your reading, I might actually reach my second goal of hitting 10,000 page views before going back to the United States. We're only 194 views short. I'm humbled to know that people care about a couple of goofy Okies.

Tonight the Olympic Torch arrives in Cambridge, and we are heading for a celebration on Parker's Pieces. There will be performers from Britain's Got Talent, and some sort of massive moving art installation will be unveiled. With Olympic sponsors like Coca-Cola handing out promotional items along the torch's route, perhaps we will get some free goodies too. And I don't want to jinx this, but Matthew, Xenia, and I will be attending an exciting ceremony in Trinity College's Great Court tomorrow morning. Early. Like we could be lining up for entry around 4:30am. This ceremony is going to be broadcast live by the BBC, and I'm hoping against all hope that a certain royal couple will be in attendance. That's all I'm going to say. Cheerio!

Belfast...

News for yesterday: Selling your bike back to a bike shop in Cambridge is like selling your college textbooks back to the university bookstore. You will get screwed over. Guaranteed. I was awash with sentimentality about saying goodbye to my eco-friendly mode of transportation until no one would buy it back from me for more than £15. Bearing in mind that Matthew and I have invested a total of approximately £175 in our cycle-related expenses, we weren't in a happy mood by the time we got home. As a result, Matt's bike is currently locked on a random fence in the Cambridge market square because its rear tire is deflated. He wasn't about to carry the (and I quote) "worthless piece of <blank>" all the way back to our flat. Sweaty from our effort (it was actually warm outside!) and ready to curse the greed of the stupid bike shop owners, we sulked toward home. And wouldn't you know that at this exact moment, we passed a blind man slowly making his way over the Trinity bridge with his walking stick. Immediately, I was convicted of my own selfishness and felt guilty for worrying about a little lost money. At least I can see. At least I am healthy and capable enough to ride a bike. Time to reinstate the "Thanksgiving Method" and focus on my blessings instead of wasting my breath on complaints and discontent.

That said, let's revisit another thing that made me grateful for what I have - Belfast, which should be known as Bleakfast. Its reputation preceded it, and we thought surely it couldn't be as bad as everyone was saying. But it was. It is worlds away from other cities of the United Kingdom, and its complex history certainly casts a long shadow. As recently as the early 2000s, armed conflict existed between the Catholics and Protestants of the city. I can't pretend to understand why they hate each other so much, but there was enough anger to cause bombings and shootings galore. The attacks credited to the IRA (Irish Republican Army) are one of the major reasons why you will never see trash bins in the London subway system or on many London streets. The threat of bombs being planted inside them is too great. In one portion of Belfast, there is still a wall dividing the Protestant and Catholic segments of the city. We drove by it in our car, and it reminded us of pre-1989 Berlin. To be fair, I am sure Belfast has its positive side; but, I don't think we found it.  Queen's University looked nice, City Hall was an attractive enough building, and the new Titanic museum has opened near the docks where the ship was originally conceived and constructed. But needless to say, Tomas, Matthew, and I were not too brokenhearted when our time in Northern Ireland came to an end. Here's a quick pictorial recap of the (limited) highlights:

Queen's University resembles Matt's Cambridge College, Girton. Looks a little like the Smithsonian Castle in Washington, D.C. as well.

And this is the Belfast City Hall. It was all decked out with the Union Jack and Olympic rings. This portion of the city was definitely the most friendly. It had all the shops, trendy restaurants, and young professionals.

In the docklands area stood the new Titanic Belfast attraction. It opened at the end of March and is fairly state of the art (as far as museums go); however, Matthew found it noneducational and uninformative. (He's used to Cambridge standards these days. Haha.) It did seem as if the architecture and the design of the exhibits were given more thought than the information contained within them. In short, many aspects were eye-catching, but we learned more about the linen industry in Belfast than about the actual tragedy of the sunken unsinkable ship.

The shape of the museum is intended to represent the bow of a boat. Arguably, it also looks like an iceberg. The smaller brick building on the right was the headquarters and drafting center of the shipbuilding company, Harland and Wolff. It was in this warehouse that the sketches were drawn and the plans concocted. Then across the street, the pieces were put into place on the slipways.

If you look closely you will see hubby and I are standing under the second "T" in front of the museum. Thanks, Tomas, for being our photographer!

The two giant gantry cranes used to erect Titanic can be viewed from a shopping mall off High Street. On the top floor there was a free panoramic viewing deck. The twin cranes were known as Samson and Goliath because of their size and strength. The blue "H&W" stands for Harland and Wolff.

The style of the exhibits varied. This was a full scale replica of a first class cabin. I thought it was interesting that only the captain and the first class passengers had freshwater baths. Everyone else had to use saltwater that was pumped into their designated loo.

And this was a full scale replica of a private third class cabin. Quite a difference in space! I would have been sick as a dog traveling in steerage. Projected images of passengers (actors) were encased in the exhibit, and to me, it reenforced the humanity of the victims. Made the scenarios more relatable.

Besides the Disney-style ride through the shipyard (yes, there was a ride!), this was my favorite room. It showed how the plans were transferred from paper drafts onto the warehouse floor using chalk and templates. I find it incredible that such a mammoth project was completed without the use of computers or other modern-day technologies.

Closeups of the plans illuminated the floor of one room, and I noticed this portion of the drawings. It was the infamous staircase in the first class lobby area. If you have seen the James Cameron version of Titanic, you'll recognize the spot. Above it was the glass domed ceiling. Again, Matthew complained of the lack of information. "Where are the measurements? We can't even tell what scale this is in." What an engineer.

I left the museum satisfied. Granted, the majority of day had focused on how the ship was built, but I haven't ever learned about that. New knowledge acquired. Switching from one depressing topic to another, I'd like to share with you some pictures demonstrating the doom and gloom of Belfast.

This was the street on which our hostel was located. It was only a couple of blocks from Queen's University and the central restaurant district, so it was supposedly a good part of town. But, we were ready to get the heck out of there. Maybe it was the rain. Maybe it was the dog-sized rat. Maybe it was the fact that the hostel owner told us to park our rental car in front of the window so the guard could watch it overnight. Yeah... Enough said.

These murals are everywhere near the Catholic/Protestant dividing wall. Our hostel owner told us that the wall is now called "The Peace Wall." One: I don't think I believed a word that guy said. Two: How does the wall signify peace? Or does it just keep the peace by separating the opposing sides? Three: Please note the hooded man. In less than 24 hours, we concluded that velour sweatsuits are an acceptable male wardrobe staple in Belfast. Especially when accompanied by a buzz cut and tattoos.

Finally, here is a portion of the wall. Call us cowards, but we didn't bother to get out of the car.

I don't want to paint an unfair portrait of Belfast. Personally, I won't plan to make a return visit; but, as I said earlier, it wasn't all bad. We kept our sense of humor about us.

We appreciated the giant mosaic fish.

And Matthew imitated said fish, which was entertaining.

Plus, there was a cool antique saloon with private booths, wood paneling, stained glass windows, and gas lamp lighting.

We probably would have regretted skipping over Belfast solely based on its negative press. But, I'd say that if you have read this post, there's no real reason to add the city to your own travel bucket list. Go to Dublin instead. I'll tell you why next time!

Ya'll come back now, ya hear? Sorry, I'm prepping for our imminent return to Oklahoma. Won't happen again. (That's a lie.)