I just got back from a 12-day trip to Europe, which I may comment on more in depth later. My trip took me to the British Isles. I'd been to London several times before and some of the nearby areas (e.g., Oxford, Cambridge) but that was about it. This time I got to Birmingham, Manchester, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Dublin, and Belfast.
I had no idea what to expect about Belfast. In a sense, upon arrival, I was pleasantly surprised. The area around the Central (train) Station is full of modern new buildings, and runs into a vibrant downtown shopping area. It appeared on first glance that Belfast is a fine and functioning town.
The next day I joined some other women from my hostel on the Black Taxi tour of the city including the Protestant and Catholic neighborhoods. And there the dysfunction was revealed. It's not as if urban planning isn't challenging enough without having Balkanized neighborhoods and walls separating them. Buildings and walls were covered with huge murals with each neighborhood's propoganda and memorials to the perceived martyrs of either side. The wall dividing the Catholics and Protestants was stained with the scorchmarks from petroleum bombs and pocked by shrapnel. A brick shopping center near downtown used to be a bus depot, the driver told us, where one day apparently 15 bombs went off. He said they had to scrape up the body parts with a shovel afterwards.
I was just there a few days ago and I'm still reeling from the ironies and contrasts. On the one hand I had a great time in Belfast connected to the event I was there to see. On the other hand, I feel a twinge of guilt for having griped about my hostel in the face of such more serious - and still mostly unresolved - issues.