A journey to Belfast might not be considered the height of joy by everyone, but a friend, just back, spoke almost poetically both of the journey and of the city environs where he stayed. Admittedly, he got a good start in that his firm paid for first class on the noble Enterprise, and that helped. No ostentation. At the head of the ticket was just First Plus. Class came in smaller print below. He had, naturally, been over the course many times before, enjoyed the sunny morning view of the east coast seaside, tried to count the birds at Malahide. Too many. Admired, again, the tightly-fenced drumlin fields (just hawthorn cut to the bone in some cases), and had the sun on the Cooley Mountains on his left and wished he could see more of the Mournes to his right. Coming towards Portadown there was flood water everywhere on the lower-lying ground. Even the many acres of scrub had their fascination under the sun (for the traveller, not the owners, you'd think). And again birds: coots or water-hens, assorted duck and again swans and seagulls. Always swans on this journey. Belfast itself was sunny with traffic moving swiftly and smoothly, and so on to Cultra and the hotel, a former Bishop's palace; you can see right down to the end of the north side of the Lough, and the lighthouse at Black Head. A short run over the rolling hills of north Down. Craigantlet included. There were seen none of the modern bungalows which some farmers, the driver told our friend, were beginning to bring in. Just pleasant farmsteads of the old style, often grey pebble-dashed, and a loose circle of trees around, in many cases. At night, of course lights are continuous as you look across to Carrickfergus and other satellites of Belfast. In the morning the lawn is hopping with birds, reminding you of "The Blackbird by Belfast Lough" in Frank O'Connor's Kings, Lords and Commons. "What little throat/ Has framed that note?/ What gold beak shot/ It far away?/ A blackbird on/ His leafy throne/Tossed it alone/ Across the bay".
To the more mundane. Indeed to the bathetic, if you like. After all these nature notes our friend says that the Greek salad (he forgets the name) which he had as main course on the return train, was superb. All kinds of everything in his story.