Growing up in Ireland in the 1970s, my childhood memories have now filtered to sunshine and warmth and the love of a big Catholic Irish family. I lived on a dairy farm in what is known as the Republic of Ireland, (Southern Ireland), in a non-descript part of this idyllic land. Nightly, as the 6.00pm television news came on we children would be ‘shushed’ by our anxious mother, who without fail, needed this time of day to listen to the news from Northern Ireland. For each night the bulletin, likewise without fail, would feature the latest story, usually bad, about the Troubles in the North of Ireland, and in particular Belfast.

I grew up listening to these troubled addresses such as the Shankill and Falls Road, bombings here, maiming there and quite honestly as a child this all meant very little to me except that my mother’s heart would stop each night until she could reassure herself all was well in Belfast and her sister was safe for another day.

The Belfast I find myself in today is indeed a very different place. The turbulent history of the recent past has been replaced by an energetic city, one that is not ashamed of the political passion for which is has been known for so long, but one that now openly talks freely about the ‘Trouble’s’ on the city bus tours that frequent this now charming city.

As a child of the south and a long time Australian resident, I still find myself nervous at the mention of these familiar addresses. But we are here together, my mother, now 81 and my father (85) to visit my Aunt Patricia and once more reassure my mum that her sister is indeed alive and well.

We booked our trip to Belfast from Exeter in the UK and via Flybe (Flybe.com), the small airline that now flies to most major European cities. I am still a little nervous of what face this city will present to us after all these years, but we are on a mission. My mother needs to see her sister and we must go. We arrive on a Tuesday evening and the sun is still shining. The airport is simple to navigate, the taxi extremely welcoming and very soon we are in our apartment in Shaftesbury Square in the centre of the city. My mother immediately takes a bus up the street to visit her sister who has lived in this city for close to 50 years.

The first morning of our trip I sling my camera around my neck and venture on foot to the City Hall, a momentous building around which the city seems to vibrate. I am struck by how relaxed everyone seems. The streets are immaculately clean. People are smiling and there is little evidence of the tension of the past 30 years.

Belfast is of course considered part of the United Kingdom but it has the air of any other big Irish city. It’s lunchtime and at the City Hall and all around me people are sitting on park benches, soaking the much welcome sun and watching an enormous digital screen, which broadcasts snippets from the local BBC. It’s quite an imposing screen and I am struck by the contrasts here in this city park – the magnitude of the old building, complete with a statue of Queen Victoria presiding over the benches, tourists and locals alike relax in the midday sun while modern technology provides their entertainment. Could this be the same city of my memories?

The city offers many double-decker bus tours and I decide to take the ‘Titanic’ tour, which includes a whistle stop tour of the shipbuilding district of old, and the new Titanic Belfast Experience. Tours such as this are always a great way to navigate a new city and decide what deserves further exploration, and given my lack of both political and local knowledge, I need further introduction to fully understand this complex culture.

There are very few tourists on my bus on this May day, but this does not deter our host who explains firstly the history of the Harland and Wolffe shipyards, where the ill-fated Titanic was built. I quickly learn that Belfast is rather proud of its ship building history. Yes the Titanic sunk, but as our tour guide says, ‘she was fine when she left here’! (Implying of course that it was not a manufacturing fault that caused its ultimate demise).

We progress through the streets of Belfast to that of West Belfast where the political affiliations still dominate. Those inhabitants who align themselves with Britain and ‘consider themselves as English’, live mainly here on, or close to, the Shankill Road. The murals on the many walls tell the history from this perspective and our guide explains how the various political groups commemorate this horrific past. There were approximately 3000 people who lost their lives during the Troubles in Belfast over the years and naturally this legacy is ever present in these streets. As we meander, they appear as any other shopping strip, but closer inspection shows a monument to the dead here, and a mural to a militant group there and I am overcome with a deep sense of sadness. It’s feels as if these people are putting on their best face for the tourist bus, where we snap happy shots of their artwork while gawping at the still ruined historic buildings. If you do get a chance, the Crumlin road offers one such crumbled yet majestic ruin in the old courthouse and has a visitor attraction at the Crumlin Road Gaol.

The city is still divided by a ‘peace’ line at the Shankill Road – much like the Berlin wall to my eyes. It is up to 25 ft high in some places with gates that open and close each day to keep the communities divided. Even with my Irish heritage I didn’t realize that this wall still existed. The communities work along side each other daily, but tensions obviously still exist. Recent discussions suggest that the communities still feel these ‘peace lines’ are necessary. Parts of this wall have the expected graffiti and monuments that people such as ex US President Bill Clinton signed while in office. There are also odes to other military conflicts worldwide with the International wall.

Our tour then progresses through to the Falls Road or those who ‘identify as Irish’. These two communities stand divided by a small piece of land and resemble each other in many ways, with stark concrete gardens, and wire cages in some parts (to protect gardens from missiles), but the contrast is simultaneously astounding. On the Falls, Gaelic images abound, from the script over the doors of the pubs to the murals mourning the most infamous hunger striker, Bobby Sands who died during Margaret Thatcher’s leadership and after a 66-day hunger strike in in 1981. Given the recent death of Margaret Thatcher, and the hatred that was still levelled at her, even in death, the senselessness of this war is omnipresent.

I must admit though that even though the contrast between the two neighbourhoods was indeed startling, at no time did I feel that we were in danger. These two stark communities now send their children to ‘integrated’ schools where, I guess ,the Catholic and Protestant children learn about the world side by side, before being locked into their communities at night!

We make our way out of this area to the vastly different South Belfast. The Malone Road is the most exclusive address in Belfast and abounds with grand mansions and lush gardens. Adjacent to Queens University, which boasts such famous Alumni as Nobel prize winner Seamus Heaney, Liam Neeson and Simon Callow this part of the city is a complete contrast to the other side. It has a grandiose air that is almost comical considering the area we have just left, but is a joy to behold never the less.

Over the ensuing days I have to admit I fell in love with Belfast. It’s a city of so many contrasts, even leaving politics aside. The ever-present Victorian architecture lives happily along side some magnificent modern examples. The Victoria Square shopping centre is not unlike similar ventures around the world, great shopping and a light airy feel but it’s architecture and in particular the the 35m glass dome that dominates the Belfast sky line gives it a ‘futuristic’ appeal. Likewise the restored Jaffe Fountain, constructed in the 1870s, doesn’t seem out of place in its original location in Victoria Square.

This dynamic European city abounds with pubs and an outdoor coffee culture that doesn’t cost the earth, as well as a multi-cultural cuisine. What I love about Belfast is that it hasn’t lost it’s identity even with it’s turbulent past. The multitude of little laneways and ornate buildings has somehow remained quaint and graceful (and standing) when all around was often crumbling.

Of course like many Irish cities, Belfast has a literary past well worth exploring. For any bibliophile a visit to the Linen Hall library is a must. It has a collection of political posters of the Troubles as well as many old Irish manuscripts that can be perused and fondled with the adoration they deserve. Founded in 1788 as the ‘Belfast lending society’ this is the city’s oldest library and the last remaining subscription library in Ireland (www.linenhall.com). C.S Lewis, the Belfast born writer is said to have spent many hours at these desks that today overlook the City Hall and Donegal Square.

A visit to Belfast would not be authentic without a visit to some of the many pubs. My favourite, without doubt, was The Crown Liquor Salon. An original Gin Palace established in 1826, it is worth seeing even if you are not particularly interested in the liquor it sells. This Salon has variously been described as ‘priceless’ and ‘ageless’ and is a spectacular example of the Victorian Gin places which flourished in the industrial cities of the time. The rich ornate woodwork was carried out by skilled Italian church craftsmen who were coerced while in Belfast to undertake some extra work – no doubt for more than a pint or two. It’s many mirrored walls, mosaic and tessellated tiles and intimate ‘snug’ rooms need to be seen to be truly appreciated.

Bittles Bar likewise is considered one of Belfast’s best-kept secrets. Its triangular shape is often referred to as that of an iron (the laundry kind) and makes it an obvious choice for exploration. It is famed for it’s extensive Whiskey collection and also has many portraits celebrating Ireland’s literary and sporting heroes. I must confess however that I was afraid to step inside and sample the advertised Titanic Irish Whiskey; for fear that I too would end up at the bottom of the nearby ocean!

Finally, the Titanic Belfast Experience should be a must do on any trip to this great city. Opened in March 2012 to celebrate the centenary of the ship, this is a most incredible experiential ‘museum’ and certainly lives up to the hype that surrounds it. I could almost feel the movement and creaking of the ship as I walked through the nine galleries that together form the Titanic experience. Each area is constructed around a particular theme and is interactive with voices, movies and shadows to the point that I was totally lost in the story, despite my prior knowledge of the ship’s tragic demise.

It is a sad journey in so many ways, but yet Belfast is so proud of its association with this magnificent engineering feat. Even here there is a little dig at the local politics, I saw a poster somewhere in the city stating “Built by an Irish Man and sunk by an Englishman”. For those you of you who don’t know, she first sailed to Southampton to take on passengers, then Cherbourg in France and then finally around the other side to Queenstown (now Cobh) in Co. Cork, Ireland before commencing her journey. We’ve all seen the movie, but the real story is a little less romantic. There were heroes of course, those who put their lives before that of others to rescue some of the survivors and villains, and those who put themselves first. But there were also so many whose lives were lost and whom perished at the bottom of the ocean. This museum takes you through each component of the story with a sympathetic tone and has a wonderful final gallery where footage of the Titanic at its final resting place under the sea can be viewed in an almost underwater theatre experience. Have I convinced you yet that it’s a must see on any trip to Belfast, or indeed worth the extra trip from the UK? (Check out my Tumbler, attached here to see some photos from this trip).

And what of my father, mother and her sister? They spent a lovely week together reminiscing, walking the streets slowly and eating lots of Black pudding! My heart will certainly go on once I have left Belfast, but I think I have left a little bit of it there.