Exploring Belfast

Other than going to a gig and staying in a plush hotel, we didn’t really have any plans for our Belfast stay. I’m always happiest wandering about cities, lingering at local coffee stops and hunting down independent bookshops. It’s lovely to have a weekend without a to do list.

Belfast feels just the right size to be able to get a feel for the place after a morning of ambling. We visited the cathedral (stained glass, and mosaics well worth a peek) and the oldest library in Belfast, complete with wonky wooden stairs and grumpy men peering disdainfully at us from ancient leather armchairs.

This city is full of varied architecture: tall old brick, curved arches, ornate cornices, and square stocky buildings that gave some corners an air of Boston, MA about them.

In our limited flight carry-on allowance, Tom chose running shoes over camera. So we traded in photography for street-pounding, and discovered the botanical gardens. A cold, clear, easy Sunday morning is perfect for a wander round a park, and the place was buzzing with other people who had the same idea.

The palm house was a strange pocket of tropical warmth in the middle of a chilly November day. It felt delicious to have aimless time to wander, smell the damp earthy greeness, look up at these old paned frames and imagine people doing the same almost 200 years ago.

So, thank you The National, for making your only UK weekend gig in a city that I’ve never been to, and giving me the excuse for a weekend of wandering!

A Windy Day and a Birthday

Windy days like these are perfect for blustery beach walks after filling up on a birthday brunch. My brother was home from London for the weekend, so we took the excuse to get the family together and celebrate his birthday a few days early.

Driving out to the countryside, it felt like late autumn; the strong winds have made a mess of tidy road edges, and the rapidly stripped leaves reveal creaky old oak. Mum welcomed us with hot coffee, while we caught up on our weeks and stuffed our faces with fried potatoes and bacon.

We had bright sun on our beach walk, and the wind was whipping the waves in to a froth. Something about the wind and crashing waves makes me want to run around and twirl. Food, family and blustery walks are the makings of a good Sunday. And chocolate cake helps too..

My Creative Mini Adventure

Today you’ll find me over at Michelle’s beautiful photography blog, talking about my great love for a mini adventure. Do go check it out!

Picking Sloes

Tom found a blackthorn bush on his run yesterday, laden with sloes ripe for the picking. So we returned today, eager to fill a box. I’ve heard mention of sloe gin before, but it wasn’t until Tom was given a bottle for Christmas last year that I realised what all the fuss was about. A sweet, red liqueur with a warm burn just perfect to be sipped by the fire in December. Sloes are a beautiful berry, far more satisfying to pick than blackberries as they don’t crumble in your hands, and there seems an abundance of them on each bush.

Beyond the grunting of pigs in the field behind, the countryside was quiet. It seems noone really uses this path, so we were free to pick in piece. On such a grey day, this, our first sloe-picking expedition, was the perfect excuse for some outdoor time before the rain set in. Now we just need to turn this box of beautiful dusty purple fruit in to some winter liqueur worthy of its fine reputation.

Beach Run

This is a new feeling for me: pounding feet in the sand, eye on a distant horizon, rush of waves, and salty air. Arriving on this firm stretch of sand feels all the sweeter when it comes after hopping over tussocky clifftop grass and gingerly racing down steep steps. Taking my own advice, we found plenty of excuses to stop, for blackberries on the hill, and photos on the beach. The blackberries made a pretty sweet crumble for pudding, washed down with plenty of custard, and well-deserved after my first beach run.