It’s November of 2002. I’m still in my right mind. I go to Belfast. My trip to the capital of Northern Ireland feels like a badge of honor; a source of pride; an accomplishment in and of itself. Belfast is a city with a dangerous history. Nearly five years after the peace agreement, it’s still a place Americans are told not to visit. Yet, I’ve made it here, and I like it.
Really enjoying your stories JF! Keep up the great work!
Just when you think you have it bad! Oof!