Belfast

Where I left off last I was in Kew, having lunch. This was followed by dinner at a very nice local - I had roast guinea fowl, which isn't something I try every day, followed by a late train home. The next day saw the attempted reenactment of a scene Hamish would recognise - cheese and wine in Hyde park - this time accompanied by extremely tame squirrels, as follows:

Unfortunately the weather was a bit gloomy. Nevertheless, wine cures all, and I was a little later to bed than I intended, given that I had to get up at 5 the next morning. I did manage to get up though, and endured an uninspiring trip to Heathrow.

Security at Heathrow is beyond anything that any sane person would think is reasonable. After checking in to my flight, I had to stand in a queue then show my boarding pass and passport and be photographed, followed by another queue for the privilege of taking off my shoes and belt and jacket in case they were harbouring dangerous criminals. I saw one man be forced to try each and every one of the containers of baby food he was carrying for his young children. Thinking it was all over, I wandered toward my gate, only to be put through another winding path of tape at the end of which I had to show my boarding pass again, and be matched against the photo they'd taken of me five minutes earlier. I was then given a full medical CAT scan in case I had replaced my blood with dangerous explosive. OK I made that one up. But seriously.

After all of that, the flight was delayed, then the actual flying time was about fourteen and a half seconds. Here is England from the air:

A patchwork of land that has been cultivated and tamed for centuries. Very picture-skew.

Belfast of course was grey and cold. The greeting I received was of course colourful and warm. My cousin Eric and his wife Ena are as hospitable as anyone could be, and they took me to a nice warm house to compose myself, followed by a drive around the local area. There is a wonderful Norman watchtower nearby which we'll visit tomorrow, but we did manage to work up the courage to have a pint in Ireland's oldest pub.

I do admit to the possibility that this area is more interesting to me than it is to you, due to the family history - we passed where my grandparents used to rent a little cabin in the summers, a little fisherman's house by the sea that my great great aunt lived in, that sort of stuff - but anyone would agree the country is gorgeous. Green and rolling and full of little villages.