Day 26
Armagh is a nice little city and I hope to come back here one day. The Christmas lights are fairly cheap, but nicely laid out. They stretch across the main street in a zigzag, with other somewhat tacky lanterns on each building. They are coloured orange, and shaped to look like lanterns from last century (or the century before that?). The effect is nice, certainly nicer than Derry’s lights and almost as good as Belfast.
There are speakers - really big speakers - at strategic points throughout the city centre, belting out modern day Christmas hits. These are very tacky, but one can’t help but be infused with the Christmas spirit. Since I have been wandering around the city all day, the initial annoyance that they caused eased, somewhat, and I actually found myself singing along to the music. A little sad, but it is better than talking to myself (as I do when I am riding!)
Most of the city centre is paved, and traffic is disallowed, while the streets surrounding this no-go area are one way and quite narrow. People tend to walk in the street as well as along the footpath. The cars don’t beep them, either. They just move slowly along, and the people get out of their way in good time. I just love it! It is so different to the driving in Israel.
The effect of having modern shops, all glass and shiny, set in mostly Georgian buildings is nice, much like what little I have seen of Dublin and Belfast.
It was a cold day today, never rising above 2ºC, but without the wind and storms that are predicted for the weekend. I am hoping that the forecasters will be wrong again, as they were about yesterday morning’s ‘gales.’
I spent about an hour at the Armagh County Museum. It isn’t very interesting, but it is free, which is the main thing, and it is warm – another prime concern. I would have preferred to go and look at the observatory, but that costs money. The museum contains a collection of knick-knacks from the past 200 or so years, most interestingly some wedding dresses and army uniforms. There were also some old tools from the Bronze, Iron and Neolithic ages. Although there was no mention of the Troubles, the whole place reeked of the overly Loyalist lean that Ulster experienced before the nineties. What I mean by that, is there is no attempt to avoid hurting anyone sensibilities (like St. Patrick’s Trian and the Tower Museum in Derry, which went out of their way to make everything neutral). This museum had uniforms, both past and present of the RIC and the RUC. It didn’t have anything as crude as marching banners, but it did have an Orange sash and a bowler hat. This place was definitely built in the eighties, or more previously, and hasn’t had many injections of funds since then. It would have hardly been worth the visit, if it wasn’t free and warm.
At noon, I went to the bike shop and got the bad news, the crank on my bike is a ‘closed unit’ and although the problem is just a few cracked ballbearings, the whole thing needs to be replaced. They said they could have the part by tonight and the boy (what else should I call him?) will replace it tomorrow morning. I asked him how much the part would cost, but he didn’t know. The boy suggested I come back at about four, as the part should be in by then.
I came back to the hostel and had a lunch of honey and bread. I wandered around the city and managed to spend only £1.30, on some more pasta sauce to use up the rest of my pasta, and some more bread.
At 4 pm ish, I went back to the bike shop to learn the price of the new part and/or to pick up the bike. I figured in the event it was too expensive I would pick the bike up and catch that bus to Dublin.
They told me they couldn’t get the part. But ... the pedals were still working from when he had forced them around yesterday, and he said they still work. As he said yesterday, the crank hadn’t collapsed, just a ballbearing or two has cracked and the bike would certainly get me to Dublin. If I only I knew this yesterday! Never mind.
Four o’clock was too late to start riding, so I came back to the hostel again, watched mindless TV, paid for another night (£10.75) and am now waiting for some Raven Haired Celtic Beauties interested in Archaeology to arrive.
Because of the large group, I had to move rooms. I am sharing with a silent Brazilian and, I think, two students. I keep trying to make conversation with the Brazilian, but he either nods or gives me a one-word answer. Bollocks to him.
I managed to ring John Kelly. He was delighted to hear from me and after I assured him there was no longer an emergency, he offered me a bike, money and a place to stay in case I needed any of them.
I agreed on the last, and said I would ring him when I got closer to Dublin.
Now, where are these Dublin students...?
There are speakers - really big speakers - at strategic points throughout the city centre, belting out modern day Christmas hits. These are very tacky, but one can’t help but be infused with the Christmas spirit. Since I have been wandering around the city all day, the initial annoyance that they caused eased, somewhat, and I actually found myself singing along to the music. A little sad, but it is better than talking to myself (as I do when I am riding!)
Most of the city centre is paved, and traffic is disallowed, while the streets surrounding this no-go area are one way and quite narrow. People tend to walk in the street as well as along the footpath. The cars don’t beep them, either. They just move slowly along, and the people get out of their way in good time. I just love it! It is so different to the driving in Israel.
The effect of having modern shops, all glass and shiny, set in mostly Georgian buildings is nice, much like what little I have seen of Dublin and Belfast.
It was a cold day today, never rising above 2ºC, but without the wind and storms that are predicted for the weekend. I am hoping that the forecasters will be wrong again, as they were about yesterday morning’s ‘gales.’
I spent about an hour at the Armagh County Museum. It isn’t very interesting, but it is free, which is the main thing, and it is warm – another prime concern. I would have preferred to go and look at the observatory, but that costs money. The museum contains a collection of knick-knacks from the past 200 or so years, most interestingly some wedding dresses and army uniforms. There were also some old tools from the Bronze, Iron and Neolithic ages. Although there was no mention of the Troubles, the whole place reeked of the overly Loyalist lean that Ulster experienced before the nineties. What I mean by that, is there is no attempt to avoid hurting anyone sensibilities (like St. Patrick’s Trian and the Tower Museum in Derry, which went out of their way to make everything neutral). This museum had uniforms, both past and present of the RIC and the RUC. It didn’t have anything as crude as marching banners, but it did have an Orange sash and a bowler hat. This place was definitely built in the eighties, or more previously, and hasn’t had many injections of funds since then. It would have hardly been worth the visit, if it wasn’t free and warm.
At noon, I went to the bike shop and got the bad news, the crank on my bike is a ‘closed unit’ and although the problem is just a few cracked ballbearings, the whole thing needs to be replaced. They said they could have the part by tonight and the boy (what else should I call him?) will replace it tomorrow morning. I asked him how much the part would cost, but he didn’t know. The boy suggested I come back at about four, as the part should be in by then.
I came back to the hostel and had a lunch of honey and bread. I wandered around the city and managed to spend only £1.30, on some more pasta sauce to use up the rest of my pasta, and some more bread.
At 4 pm ish, I went back to the bike shop to learn the price of the new part and/or to pick up the bike. I figured in the event it was too expensive I would pick the bike up and catch that bus to Dublin.
They told me they couldn’t get the part. But ... the pedals were still working from when he had forced them around yesterday, and he said they still work. As he said yesterday, the crank hadn’t collapsed, just a ballbearing or two has cracked and the bike would certainly get me to Dublin. If I only I knew this yesterday! Never mind.
Four o’clock was too late to start riding, so I came back to the hostel again, watched mindless TV, paid for another night (£10.75) and am now waiting for some Raven Haired Celtic Beauties interested in Archaeology to arrive.
Because of the large group, I had to move rooms. I am sharing with a silent Brazilian and, I think, two students. I keep trying to make conversation with the Brazilian, but he either nods or gives me a one-word answer. Bollocks to him.
I managed to ring John Kelly. He was delighted to hear from me and after I assured him there was no longer an emergency, he offered me a bike, money and a place to stay in case I needed any of them.
I agreed on the last, and said I would ring him when I got closer to Dublin.
Now, where are these Dublin students...?
posted by Bren Carlill @ 6:56 AM
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