Personal

Belfast Central

I love it when reality turns out so different to how I imagine it.

Belfast Central, waiting for a train.
It seems to me things have come full circle
and I won't be here again.

Before today, Juliet Turner's song of ending relationships and new beginnings always had me picturing a grand Victorian railway station complete with huge arched iron roof and a crowded lobby in which to loose yourself.

In the same way that Deacon Blue's Your Swaying Arms became suddenly more down-to-earth when I walked the cracked pavement of Kelvin Way, so it is with the thoroughly practical Belfast Central.