Dear Belfast,

I don't think you recognized me last April, when I arrived on a bus from Dublin. I didn't recognize you either. After all, it had been 11 years since our first meeting, and back then my parents and I left you before I realized where I was. So we barely met in 2008, and I've changed a lot since then, so I don't blame you for not recognizing me. We had to start over from scratch. And it's been my pleasure.

I can't really explain what happened when I finally saw you again after all those years. It felt a little like stepping into a nice bubble bath: warm, welcoming, safe. I know those are words most people probably don't associate with you, Belfast, but that's how I felt. I was not quite at home, but something told me that if I wanted to, I could make you my home. It felt right to hear the local accent, to pay with pounds, to have long talks with complete strangers. And having a decent phone signal for the first time in five days also helped a lot. But I have to admit I still had my doubts about you when Žana, Urška and I walked from the city center to our hostel on Donegall Road. The many Indian restaurants got shabbier and the amount of random trash bags on the sidewalks increased. I had flashbacks to a motel/drug shack in Sacramento, but our YHA hostel here looked fine. Even alone at night did I feel more or less safe in this part of town. Not that I spent much time there. My Slovenian travel buddies and I had so many things we wanted to do in the three days we spent with you.


The first place we visited was the Titanic museum and shipyard. That's where I slowly started to fall in love. It reminded me a bit of home, of Rotterdam, of the rivers and the shipyard that are key players in my hometown's history. Belfast, you're a lot like Rotterdam, but friendlier and more beautiful. As I sat on a bench overlooking the water, I felt so light and happy despite everything I had going on back home at the time. Napoleon's Nose called my name through the hazy sky. Night fell. Belfast, you enchanted me when your lights came on. I tried to capture the beauty of your bridges on camera, but simply couldn't. I was high on life and light and an inkling of love for a city I barely knew.

If I'd visited you on my own, I would've gone back to the hostel that night. But I wasn't alone. I was with two awesome girls who wanted to go to Kelly's Cellars, the oldest pub in town, and they convinced me to tag along. I went outside my comfort zone, but in a place like Belfast, it seemed the only right thing to do. I found £5,- on the sidewalk, which I spent on beer. Getting to the bar was nerve-wracking, but I had friends by my side and the crowd wasn't half as intimidating as the pub-goers back home. We took our beers outside, found a nice bench to sit on and enjoyed the night, which was surprisingly warm for April. It was a good night, a night I won't forget anytime soon. Especially because Belfast, you made me trip over a curb, and I looked completely drunk when I wasn't. Nothing personal Belfast, but that was not okay.


The next day my friends and I got to see you in all your glory from the top of Napoleon's Nose. It was windy and the air was hazy once again, but we sat there for ages, pointing out places we'd been the previous day and mumbling that "Titanic didn't sink, no, it didn't". I felt like I'd taken a step back from life, like you'd given me a time-out. I needed it. I was confused at the time, scared, hurt, tired. But Belfast, you gave me a bit of a breather. Life moved on so close to me, while I watched from a safe distance on the tip of Napoleon's Nose. I never expected a city to bring me back in touch with nature and myself, but you did exactly that on that April day.

At the end of the day, I crashed onto my bed, exhausted and not exactly happy. A call from home had me crying, as it told me I might not come home in time to say goodbye to my grandma. I tried to get myself on an earlier flight home, but couldn't afford it. I was ridden with guilt, even though my granddad and parents had all encouraged me to go on this trip. I consider myself lucky that I found you in that difficult time, Belfast. I could laugh through my tears because of everything the city offered me on Easter Sunday. Žana and Urška took me to George's Market, which was full of life that day. The Markthal in Rotterdam has nothing on that place. George's Market was a place full of happiness, music and good food. We treated ourselves to donuts and pancakes while listening to live folk music. It was great.


We spent the afternoon walking in search of street art through streets of yours which were full of Irish flags. We saw a different side of you that day, a side that looked intimidating at first, but turned out to be just as interesting and full of stories as every other part of you, Belfast. I wasn't simply having a crush anymore, I was truly in love. People were friendly and open to our questions, even though the topic was sensitive and the timing awkward with it being Easter Sunday. Your people won me over, Belfast.

By the time our wee legs couldn't carry us anymore, we only had three hours left before we'd go back to Dublin. We stumbled to a supermarket, got some snacks, then went to the botanical gardens, where we literally fell asleep on the grass just five meters from the gate. It was sad, funny and great at the same time. After our much-needed nap, we took a walk and watched people enjoy the sunshine and have a great time together in the botanical garden. On our way back to the city center, we passed the university. I dared to imagine studying there for a semester. The three lonely coins in my pocket reminded me of the sad truth: I can't afford that. At that moment in time, three days with you was the best I could do, my dear Belfast. I wish I could've extended my stay, I wish I could've been there without all the worries I had on my mind. Now, almost a year later, I wish I could come back to you, Belfast. Because I now recognize my feelings for what they were.


I'm not going to promise that I'll see you again soon. I promised that to Edinburgh in 2017 and that is a promise I haven't been able to keep. I don't want the same to happen with us. So let me just say this: I loved our time together, and I hope we'll see each other again. I really do.