Belfast; Saturday, 08 November, 2008

When I last popped across the Irish Sea, my flight had been delayed by over six hours because of snow. At that time you could hardly move in Gatwick because of the number of people, with flights being cancelled left, right and centre and more passengers pouring into the lounge by the minute.

Fast forward just seven months and it was a very different scene that greeted me as I came through security. Whilst the weather was still lousy (heavy rain and strong winds this time rather than a light dusting of snow), the state of the departures lounge could not have been more different. The departures screens showed all the flights for the rest of the day as being on time, all 20 of them, and that was in the mid-afternoon. There were a couple of people wandering around, a few people in the café’s and restaurants, and the usual queue in WHSmith’s (it is an ancient charter, or something similar, that where there is a WHSmith’s in a transport location, be it bus, train or plane, there must always be a queue).

You could have filmed a creepy film in there it was that un-naturally quiet. Thankfully, to restore my faith in Gatwick airport my flight promptly got delayed, though to be fair it wasn’t Gatwick’s fault, and with the plane having to divert to Liverpool on it’s way in because of a sick passenger you can’t really put any blame on FlyBE either.

So an hour later than originally planned, and still shocked by the quietness of the airport, I boarded my flight which promptly pushed back, accelerated along the taxiway and was pretty much up to take-off sped as it ploughed straight onto the runway and up into the leaden and blowy skies of Southern England.

75 minutes later, and for the first time in many years struggling to keep my lunch down because of the turbulence throughout the flight, we touched down at Belfast city airport and parked up. With a swift trip through the airport and two busses later I found myself at my hotel, wondering as I looked at the St Patricks Day cards, the Irish Dancing statues and the pictures of Mary, whether I was in predominantly Catholic or Protestant part of Belfast.

After unpacking I headed back into town and on my way confirmed that it must be a protestant area as Sinn Fein would only have offices in Unionist areas (for those of you who haven’t spotted yet the word of the day is irony or possibly sarcasm).

I had a wander around the city centre taking in the sites around the city hall and the rejuvenated riverside before wandering back to the bus stop and the bus back to the hotel.