(literally, not metaphorically)
15/9/14 - 15/9/14
This morning was a battle of the suitcases as we tried to get under the 20kg luggage limit. My 'precious' suitcase came through with the goods by being the lightest - an interesting turnaround from the initial situation!
Neville bid a teary farewell to McSporran, vowing to return as soon as he could. And then we were on the road, and Belinda and Alison FM really kicked in. The MIA version of Loch Lomond was pretty special, as was the Harry Potter version of MIA. Remix bonanza!
We arrived at Glasgow airport with plenty of time to check in. We were a bit apprehensive about dropping off our possibly-slightly-over-the-limit luggage, but either we made it with 100g to spare, or the lady loved our Aussie accent so much that she didn't want to charge us.
The flight was short and sweet, and featured a fairly lacklustre safety demonstration from our air hostess-man (flight attendant, if you want to be politically correct). We arrived at the Belfast International Airport, which is nothing like you would expect an international airport to be. Somewhere on the scale between Mount Gambier and Adelaide in the airport scheme of things.
We didn't have to wait long for luggage to arrive, but it was a bit disconcerting the way the suitcases flew down the chute onto the carousel. Hypothetically, if you had bottles of whisky in your suitcase, you would want to know they had been well packed. My 'precious' suitcase got some serious momentum down the chute and absolutely hurtled onto the carousel - nearly leapt off and knocked over a nearby family.
We picked up Hanz the VW and found our way to our apartment, where we caught up with two friends - Emma, and The Very Hungry Caterpillar. After a bit of a planning session (which featured a confusing charades demonstration from Simon), we hit the town.
We started at the Crown Bar - very ornate pub with very private booths in which to consume one's beverages. We accepted lollies from a stranger, but since he was a) working behind the bar and b) had an Irish accent, we figured it would be fine.
We had a fabulous dinner at Ginger Bistro (not to be confused with Gingeroot, just down the road). Not only was the food amazing, the service was brilliant. Our waiter was called Seamus, naturally, and spoke rather rapidly, leading to a communication breakdown. At one point, after collecting our plates with great prowess, he turned to Pat and sad "hevyevehplehedbukehroo?" We all smiled politely and nodded as he walked away. I just had time to translate in my head and explain the concept of the game "Buckaroo" before he walked back, said it all again slowly and clarified that he wasn't hitting on Pat. Brilliant.
Before we left, we also made sure to get some recommendations of other places to eat and drink. But more about that tomorrow...