Easter Weekend and we found ourselves on a sightseeing bus in Glasgow. It's been a while since I've been to a city I haven't visited before and even though one or two people had rained on the parade we were about to embark on, by dissing Scotlands largest city, we soon came to realise they were wrong and Anne was right: Glasgow's ace!
Lots to see. From the bus, it was largely the large stuff we took it.
You don't want to know what we did at the weekend do you? It's probably only really interesting to us. You might want to switch over to the other channel; there's bound to be something better on.
It was lashing down on Saturday, so we drove down the peninsula to Portaferry; to the Northern Ireland Aquarium, Exploris. We hadn't been for a while and it's in a great location on the edge of Strangford Lough. The boys love the aquarium, although to be honest, it's looking a little tired. They could do a lot more with the place. But it's still a brilliant day out and the aquatic life forms are well cared for and fascinating.
The gurnards were my favourites. They're a dour fish and kind of loaf about the sea bed, sucking up the plankton or whatever it is they live on, but I like them. They look a lot like me. They're also very obliging and sat very still for me so I could snap some lo-fi portraits.
The gurnards are lovable miseries but the highlight for all of us was the seals. They look after sick seals at Exploris which means it's pretty hit and miss what guests they have staying with them. In fact, I can't remember ever seeing seals in the pool. Right now though they've got three. And they were pretty friendly, giving us some top notch semi-aquatic mammal near-the-glass action. When they're taking it easy, further into the water, they're kind of ghostly.
Last week I finished my stint guest blogging for Herb Lester. It was fun. I wrote a set of entries on peculiar corners of Belfast (and a little beyond). The last post was about the shop over the road from our studio. If you want to head down there, it's opposite Portview on the Lower Newtownards Road.
Me and the boys went down to the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum last weekend. So, of course, we slipped into the print shop. It could be so much more than it is. Right now, it's an exhibit; just that. What it really needs is a massive injection of enthusiasm then who knows what it could become.
Hands up who doesn't love a beach?
Thought so. Everyone loves a beach. Even in inclement weather there's much to entertain you on a beach. Karen is facinated by rock pools and we can spend hours poking around for trapped sea life: hermit crabs, shrimps, the occassional blood sucker, a sea snail here and there. Unidentifiable fish. Once, on the north coast of Ireland, we cornered an enormous jelly fish in a particularly deep and still pool, to study from a safe distance, until we set it free (being careful to avoid contact of course).
I like to comb. For small, pilferable natural phenomena.
We've just come back from our summer holiday. Did I say "holiday"? I should have said "odyssey". To us it was an epic journey of unfeasible length. A journey through lands foreign to us (Scotland, England and Kent). By car, we travelled across many miles. By ferry, we journeyed across a vast expanse of ocean. By car, we travelled across many miles (again). In my Mum's house we had dinner, slept a bit and ate many wine gums. Then by car, we travelled across many miles (again, again). Until finally, FINALLY we reached the next stage of our journey.
And it's at this point our journey became so very strange, the account of it sounds more akin to an extract from a Jules Verne novel than a true report of an actual, real occurance. Get this: We travelled in our car, on a train, through a an enormous tube, under the very bed of the sea. And when we emerged from our subterranian experience, at the distant end of the mega-pipe, we were in…another country. A country known by some as "France".
Finally, FI-NA-LLY! France. Finally, we had reached…the next stage of our journey.
By car, we travelled across "beaucoup de milles".
I'm sure you're on the edge of your seat but I'm afraid that blog post I promised last week - you know, the one about us catching some fish; then cooking some fish; then eating some fish. That one. Well, it's taking a bit longer than expected. So here's a photo of a lifeboat to keep you entertained. Did we need it? You'll just have to wait for the full story to find out.
We went back today, this time with the boys. The weather wasn't so good which meant the building was kind of monochrome. Looking good, whatever the weather.
The boys were at their Gran's for tea so me and Karen jumped on our bikes and peddled on down to the Titanic Quarter this afternoon; just to have a snoop about a bit. If you don't know, the new Titanic Building opened today. I think we're going to take a look inside over the Easter holidays but from the outside at least, it all looks ace.
They got a fantastic day for the opening and there's an expansive (and I have to say, cycle-friendly) outside area so we spent a good while checking it out. The exterior IS stunning.
I didn't think about it until we got there but it's been years. Blimey. Could be ten?…No, more like twenty, since I was in an old library. Our local is reasonably modern. There's an amazing one in Bangor a few miles further on; all internet and lime green vinyl flooring.
Linen Hall Library, in Belfast's city centre is not like that. We were there for the launch of a book we'd designed (more about that another time) but as soon as we'd stepped inside, well, I think all three of us were struck by the beautiful. It's from another time. Actually, I'll backtrack a bit. We went in through the modern side entrance, which is a narrow but bright space that leads into a three or four story stairwell. Look up and it's all modern materials and framed prints of party political advertising. But the stairs are there to give you access; you're soon in the original library. And that feels like something out of another century. Bookish (obviously) and still; it reminded me of Tinker Tailor. I could imagine Smiley, sitting in the corner, waiting for a clandestine liaison. Or searching for a microdot in some obscure volume.
The Library couldn't be more central in the city which is why it felt like a secret place. I've passed the outside many times, carried along by the crowd. We stood outside one Christmas, regretting our misguided decision to come into town to watch the lights being switched on. Never, NEVER again.
I had no idea what was just inside those doors.
