Da Nort, Day One

Last Saturday morning a workmate of hubby's gave him a lift to the airport where he collected our rental car. He came back to pick us up and for a change, we were all ready to go. A good omen for the trip ahead.

It was a bright sunny morning and all the neighbourhood children were out to wave us off. The way they carried on, you'd think we were moving back to Canada rather than driving a mere ninety minutes for an overnight visit. Briefly, I wondered if they were just waiting for us to leave so they could hone their burglary skills. Life in Dublin has touched me in so many ways...

My cynicism faded as we hit the M1 and the Corsa that seemed so zippy and easy to handle in the village began to roar and shake under the strain of the 120km/hr speed limit and terror took over. To drown out the sounds of the car and the screams in my head, I popped in a cd that I'd cleverly brought along. Of course, that lasted all of twenty seconds until the kids insisted that we play their cds. Incidently, if you've never heard your seven year old daughter belt out the words,"Don'tcha wish your girlfriend was hot like me", it's probably better to get it out of the way before you are hurtling down the highway in a gutless tin can on the _other_ side of the road.

Having never been to Northern Ireland before, we weren't sure what to expect in terms of a border crossing. As it turned out, there wasn't one. When we passed a trailer that had a sign painted on its side offering to exchange euros to pounds and sell us fireworks, we figured we'd arrived.

With hubby's lead foot and my expert navigational skills in sync,it was smooth sailing all the way and before the kids could utter the forty ninth chorus of, "are we there yet", we were all checked in and having a refreshing beverage in the hotel's bar.

I am one of those people who can't really tell people apart. If someone looks similar in any way to someone I know, I assume it's them; I'm generally wrong. So when we had been in Belfast for all of an hour and I said, "I know that guy" and stood up to say hello, it was no surprise that hubby responded by saying, "you do not know him Anna, sit down" and the children prepared themselves for the ensuing embarrassment by hiding their faces in their hands and slouching in their seats.

For a change, I was right! Geoff was an administrator at the college where I took my massage course last year. He's American, from Ohio and we'd talked hockey a couple of times while I was paying my tuition and such. When I went over to his table, Geoff recognized me immediately and said, "Oh my God! What are you doing here??" Until that very moment, it hadn't occurred to me that he might not be there for the hockey game. He was and seemed truly amazed by the coincidence. We exchanged pleasantries and went our separate ways.

For us that meant out for dinner to Scalini . Great food, friendly staff and excellent service at a very reasonable price made for a happy little family! The only drawback was a lack of a non-smoking section. It's hard to taste the delicate flavours of one's meal when your nostrils are being assaulted by someone sitting a few feet away enjoying a cigarette between courses.

And then we were off to the game. The arena was fairly small - like one you'd find if you went to a junior league game in Canada which meant that the seats I thought would be mediocre turned out to be great. The game was also very much like a junior game - without the hitting. With the new rules about two line passes and pints of really nice lager to drink, the game had a much more European flavour than we were expecting. Add to the mix a pack of American-style cheerleaders (it used to be an insult to be called a puck bunny), sponsored everything (the ref was sponsored by spec savers!) and it was like no hockey game we'd ever seen before.

Belfast won 6-4 but to give Basingstoke credit where it's due, they played the better game. Considering that the Giants lead the league and Basingstoke owns the basement, the actual game was more than a bit of a surprise in that the Bison led for nearly 55 minutes of the 60 minute game and twice were up by three goals.

After the game, we grabbed a taxi and headed back to the hotel. On the way, we all agreed that it was great to see Theo Fleury play and we all enjoyed his enthusiasm with the crowd, but it was players like Captain George Awada and playing Coach Ed Courtenay that made us all want to see another game.

As soon as we walked through the door of the hotel, boychild's gameboy mated with that of another boychild so we ended up hanging out in the lobby and having a couple of drinks from the bar while the kids played nicely, even including the girl without being threatened - er, reminded.

When we got to the room, hubby turned on the tv and I promptly fell asleep. Consequently, I missed boychild's appreciation of all the excitement and junk food he'd had which he expressed by puking all over the bathroom.

We sure know how to fill a day!