TONIGHT we took a spin to another beach in a different direction.

One of the best things about living in Belfast is the proximity to the coast and the inland hills. 

We had a hankering for ice cream and bickered amongst ourselves about whose turn it was to go into Andrea’s on the Shankill and queue for milkshakes. He said he didn’t want to because he was wearing a Claddagh ring. I always go and stood my ground, because I wasn’t going in. I know they know I’m not one of them and July is still silly season here. 

So we ended up in Newcastle – where every other shop sells ice cream. I ended up with a Nutella flavour poke which was satisfactory to the buds of taste.

Years ago, Eimear and I stayed in a house somewhere facing the sea. We were drunk the entire time we were there. I tried finding it but it’s not there anymore. It was that long ago, Spencer from Big Brother was doing a live PA in the Central Bar and we stupidly paid a fiver in.

Newcastle was always her happy place and it sort of depressed me being there tonight. But that mad, asthmatic Muttley cackle of hers was in my head and made it better. I imagined her roaming the Main Street late at night and upsetting the tranquility with foul language as she tended to do.

Here’s some photos I took.



This one here is another one for the memory book. When my mate turned 30, we stayed overnight and did the room up with all sorts of party stuff. Then got blootered and partied till all hours. She was the eldest of our group so we took the piss and wrapped up 30 granny inspired presents. 

Her loot included fluffy slippers, a Daniel O’Donnell singing birthday card, packets of Fisherman’s Friends, big massive knickers, reading glasses and other pointless pieces of crap. Anyway, this is where we stayed. Good times. Oh aye and her 40th is coming up soon. She wants us all to go to Cuba this time. I can’t believe she doesn’t want to go back to Newcastle to celebrate.