Author Topic: Anyone from the shore road area of Belfast?.  (Read 2121305 times)

James James

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Re: Anyone from the shore road area of Belfast?.
« Reply #13155 on: November 27, 2019, 07:55:53 AM »
Some of the names of the pub that spring to mind are "Tudor", Telstar" and "Tavern" as in the picture. obviously trying to appeal to a younger market.

https://www.facebook.com/oldbelfastphotographs/photos/a.1729512510611138/1772811929614529/?type=3&theater

Lots of comments from locals who were familiar with it.

James James

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Re: Anyone from the shore road area of Belfast?.
« Reply #13156 on: November 27, 2019, 08:56:31 AM »
when it was first built it was called the Donegal Arms it was once one of my local pubs I knew every inch of the old shore rd

http://www.belfastforum.co.uk/index.php?topic=37913.0

James James

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Re: Anyone from the shore road area of Belfast?.
« Reply #13157 on: November 27, 2019, 09:16:28 AM »

Dargan

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Re: Anyone from the shore road area of Belfast?.
« Reply #13158 on: November 30, 2019, 09:47:01 AM »
 
 When out walking through towns and villages or on the hills here in the North of England, I always wonder if I'll see anything which will remind me of the Shore Road, or Belfast in the bygone days of my childhood and youth. Meeting a lady I once worked with in Shorts MSD in North Manchester one day had an impact on me. It seemed like a miraculous happening, and so when I walk I often wonder if anything or anyone will come along to roll back the years. So long live fly-tipping, for more often than enough I've seen things which do the job of jolting the memory one way or another. I'll give an example.
 
You get quite a few rutted lanes dividing pasture land into its roughly separated fields. They are referred to as "hollow paths" and go back to the time of enclosure of the fields when landowners, who unceremoniously chucked the people off the land, had to devise ways of separating fields. Hence everyone evicted flocked to towns, and the birth of the industrial revolution and all that kind of depressing crap which nevertheless can be interesting when you're close-up to its remnants as I am here.

These paths are not easy to walk on and for drivers eejit enough to use them as shortcuts, their cars going in one side and out the other end up worth about two pounds fifty. Why they bother to use these lanes is anybody's guess, but likely it can be for nefarious reasons as twenty quid notes sometimes float on the air. I found forty quid two weeks running (20 on each occasion) centred around a place which flogs big lumps of stone to builders.  Aye, that and the rest for the air can be very aromatic at times! I thought the place was paved with gold and haunted it for weeks after that, but 40 quid (spent on Xmas presents) was my lot. I wasn't that interested in the stalks and leaves of tall, exotic plants dumped with dozens of wee clay pellets. 
 
On these lanes on higher ground you might see an old "dew pond" built to specifics which to this day are something of a lost skill even though they understand what shatters them and makes them drain away. I'll forgo quoting the science for that's down to the those who want to cull information from elsewhere. (It's a bit boring anyway). I pass by these ponds knowing they could be thousands of years old. I watch cattle peacefully drink at them or stand under the shelter of groves of hawthorn which grow nearby. You know you're out in Winter, and the feel of different kinds of the cold give a feeling of wellbeing I like, but it's not for everyone.

 
Usually the oldest farmhouses of the area are on these lanes, and a glance at them really can reveal scenes which haven't altered for generations. The people in these places are fresh-faced, quite glad to see people and have a yarn and you just know by how they are that the modern world hasn't touched them much. They seem blissfully unaware. Their animals roam free-range and the sounds of ducks always ring out louder then anything else that clucks, grunts or moos. Their places are always muddy in Winter for they drive in and out on tractors regularly. It's earthy, pleasant, real. Datestones on their homes reveal 1672 or some equally remote time. I stand and gaze in wonder, thinking about what life was like back then.

 
Well, being remote and inhospitable in Winter with puddles galore, these lanes are often the venue for a fly-tipping which is not entirely illegal as the people in these out-of—the-way farms often need [censored] to fill in holes on the lanes. I think they either encourage builders to dump in the already large piles at the sides of the lanes, or else turn a blind eye, and this is when you might see all kinds of things from years ago which are a reminder of home.
 
Walking on a frosty morning last Saturday, I went such a route and when passing the mound of [censored] the first thing I spotted from the distance which suggested a newly-tipped lot was there, was a Xmas tree. When I got up close I discovered it was the lower half of an artificial tree, and although I walked around the mound, cows looking at me from an adjacent field as they grazed round a large circular feeder, I couldn't find the other half of the tree.
 
But what of it, for it reminded me of looking at the trees in neighbours' houses on December nights long ago around the Shore Road going about my business or coming home from the institution people call "school."
 
However, there did turn out to be something on that mound which was a direct link to the Belfast of the past. Amidst all the stuff, poking out of gray [censored] and showing its edges, were the pages of a newspaper. I retrieved it (old Tip Head habits die hard) and discovered it was the racing pages of the Daily Mail bearing a date in November 1999. It was in a sodden condition, but experience at reviving rubbish about to be annihilated by the elements informed me immediately that all I needed to do was to get the paper, fold it carefully, then take it home and put a hairdryer on it. When the silt dries it can be dusted off (but don't do it on the dining table if tempted to follow my example). When you want to revive rubbish, in general, you'd be best to consult someone from the Shore Road who hoked the Head regularly, or observed the techniques of those who did.

 
So, with my expertise in action,  I extracted it from the pile, and when I'd revived it back at home I was looking to see if there were any horses in 1999 maybe called "Oakmount" or "Lindy May" or some other name resonant of the Shore Road. There wasn't a single horse except "Ballygobackwards." I had to smile at that because I remembered how a regular, verbal attack on people who had done something daft was, "where did you come from, Ballygobackwards?"
 
So. I drew a blank with regard to Shore Road references. However, there was a page of news, and were it not for the fact that photobucket failed me yonks ago I'd shove it on here. Instead, if you've been keen enough to read this to conclusion (for one reason or another) you'll have to make do with my description of the article.
 
It mentioned how at the railway on Great Victoria Street, lockers had been removed in the 1970s to deter bomb-leaving eejits, but that in 1999 they were being replaced by lockers bearing a technology which made them work by the fingerprints of the users. Someone then commented words to the gist, "and so it's a victory for modern technology, for what would-be crim would be fool enough to plant a bomb in a locker which only operates as per their fingerprints?" But you see, that person was an English person and knew nothing about Ballygobackwards.
 
More Winter tales loosely connected to the Shore Road a speciality. …….
 :hi:

Let's now have a celebration of joy with this little number!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S4TzjRFfsJs

 
 
 
 
Cryptic clue time: who wrote 1001 uses of vinegar but forgot chips? It's a war of attrition folks, make no mistake. Keep your thread alive. TF.

Dargan

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Re: Anyone from the shore road area of Belfast?.
« Reply #13159 on: November 30, 2019, 09:52:39 AM »
The word which has been censored is the combination of the words "HARD" and "CORE."

Are the censors from Ballygobackwards?
Cryptic clue time: who wrote 1001 uses of vinegar but forgot chips? It's a war of attrition folks, make no mistake. Keep your thread alive. TF.