My trip to Ireland: part 3

Even if I fell in love with the Irish landscape, was also a part of my plan to visit some of the places I've read so much about. And first on the list was Derry (I will not use Londonderry for apparent reasons...), the Walled City. Derry is just 25 minutes away from where Steven lives, and he arranged that we would meet his friend Amanda and her husband Mark while we were there.

Derry has a nickname; "The Maiden City", and the reason is because its walls have never been breeched, not even during the siege in 1689. Jacob II stood outside the city gates, furious since some protestant apprentice boys had slammed it right in his face. Derry got through the longest siege in British history; 105 days from 18th April until 28th July 1689. Derry is till divided between protestant and catholic neighbourhoods, and if you walk through he protestant ones you will definitely see the slogan "NO SURRENDER"

Anyway, we had some time before meeting Mark, so we went up to the university (which was the one Steven went to) and had a breather there. It was a pretty nice building (as you can see on the picture below)

Pretty different from the University of Bergen....

After coming down to the centre again, we had a delicious lunch at a Chinese place, where we also met Mark. Mark and Amanda are very sweet together and I wish them all the best for the future *fingers crossed*. He had to go back to work again, so Amanda, Steven and myself made our way up on the  famous wall. One the way there we passed an impressive-looking building, called Guildhall. I guess it must be their city hall or something. Very english in its style, and I somewhat felt intimidated by that building..(is that even possible?)

I don't know if I like this one...

The wall is in pretty good state, and Derry is the only European city that still have an intact city-wall. You can walk all the way around it (on the top) and it gives you a pretty good view over Derry.

Derry has a strong connection to the history of both Ireland and England, and it is one of the few cities in Northern Ireland that has almost 50/50 protestants and Catholics. Nowhere else does the Orange Order march with greater vigour on the 12th than in Derry. Some times has its history been painted in blood and other times through art and music. The song "The Town I loved so well", written by Phil Coulter, gives us as listeners a view on how strong the connection between Derry and its people is.

 In my memory I will always see
the town that I have loved so well
Where our school played ball by the gasyard wall
and we laughed through the smoke and the smell
Going home in the rain, running up the dark lane
past the jail and down behind the fountain
Those were happy days in so many, many ways
in the town I loved so well

Derry was also a major emigration-harbour, and many thousand left its shores to seek a better future in America

It seemed everywhere I looked I could see walls or fences. I'm a free spirit, and don't like to be confined in a cage made by hate, mistrust or prejudice. I want to spread my wings and roam the world.

But the people of Derry is nothing like the wall that surround the city. They are open and welcoming. So I really hope that they will not return to the darkness they experienced from the 60's and onward.

Steven and Amanda in the Artists Village in the middle of Derry

This is a place in the middle of Derry were artist of different profession sell their crafts, and it feel like a silent bubble in the middle of all the movement that characterize the 21st century. It was a very sweet and calming place, and you could see flowers everywhere(later it proved that this counts for all the city, and the reason I will come back to later...)

This is a loyalist neighbourhood as you can see from the two murals here. The slogan "NO SURRENDER" shows us that the loyalist haven't given up the struggle yet. They will not be satisfied before Derry has got rid of its catholic population. They are loyal to the crown, and will fight if anything threatens it.

This stained-glass picture is just amazing in its colour and radiance. We found it in a very small church beside the wall, and while looking at all the amazing pictures I could understand why some people really believed that there is a God up there...

Some flower we met on our way

This day that we visited Derry, the whole city was apparently on its feet. The reason was because they were competing for the title "City of Culture 2013 UK" and they were doing their utmost to present themselves as a very good choice. There were things happening around every street-corner, and  outside Guildhall they were setting up a big screen so the citizens of Derry could watch the announcement later that evening.

(To spoil the surprise: Derry WON!)

One of the places I had to see while I were in Derry was were it all went down the 30th January 1972; Bogside

So when we got down from the wall we found our way down to this catholic neighbourhood and one could clearly see where their loyalty lay. On every street-corner you could see the Irish tricolour, and several republican murals. The picture below is just a wall you might say, but to the people here and everyone that support them this wall is a symbol. A symbol over the everlasting struggle for equality and freedom.

A very strong symbol

It was a very special experience for me to trod in some of the same streets as the civil rights marchers walked in 1972. To see all the murals I've only seen in books, to feel the atmosphere of the place that went from being a small town with its differences into a battle-scene, a scene for a breech in human rights that one wouldn't thought could happen in a civilized, west-European country. But against the odd, it happened, and it took 38 years for the truth to come out, the truth that every man and woman in this city knew since that fatal day in 1972. The truth the English were too afraid to accept; of course they couldn't see any evil in their own forces, they couldn't or wouldn't see the hate and anger that brewed beneath the surface.  Maybe it was a bomb, just waiting to explode.... I will not discuss the bunch of lies that were used for drowning the truth here, but now the world now that the men who died here this day were innocent and nothing can hide it any longer.

The men who died 30th January 1972;
unarmed they were murdered by British paratroopers who shot to kill

The Bloody Sunday-memorial

History caught up with me here, and all the suffering I had read about became the reality. I'm forever grateful for Steven's and Amanda's reaction when the storm released itself from my eyes. I couldn't stop crying, and I cursed the cruelty and evil that had killed these men. I cursed the unfairness that so many people must endure every day, I cursed my own weakness in fighting my own demons and I prayed (yes I prayed for the first time in year to a God I do not know if exists) that people could become friends beyond the limits of religion and belief.

So the day gave me a pure taste of the bowl of history, and I think it's a good thing that I get so involved in it, every soul and every story. Every person in the history plays a part, and both the peasant and the general is important. So those men in 1972 died, but their legacy lives on and they will continue to inspire new generation in their search for freedom and truth.

So here's to the 14 men

Slainté!