I continue nonetheless to enjoy Macauley's book about growing up in Belfast in those days, as I did and as PC did- the author being his youth leader back in the day, the church mentioned being his home church, and the Lesley of the closing pages being his dad! It is a book to be grateful for, in its funny and down to earth juxtaposition of rites of passage with rites of conflict.
I'm glad that Chillifest was sold out- who ever would have thought then that such a thing would ever happen in the city centre, let alone sell out completely. We met friends outside who said that it isn't the city we grew up in. Praise be; indeed not.
But it is a gorgeous city! We walked all over the town in the bright Autumn air, hand in adult hand! And ended up in Made in Belfast- which is as quirky as shabby chic can be! I sat on a sheepskin clad sofa sipping Earl Grey with blue flower something, and tried not to look like a hick from the suburbs on her first outing in months....
We were both Made, Marred and Matured in Belfast, I suppose, and haven't fallen out of love with her yet. She is a better place than once she was, or than people let her be.