After my fabulous Glasgow for the 4th, and kilo of cherries in Frankfurt, I decided that finally in Belfast, I did indeed need more shots of the cool things I do on layovers. I picked the trip up because it was the only position I was willing to work and I knew if I didn't pick up the chance of working was not good. There were these two cool senior mamas on the trip who picked it up to hang out and invited me along to take the tour of the city.
Belfast is a mildly depressing and sad place. There's a lot of British/Irish turmoil and we toured the murals and spent time on Bombay Street. And that's where it happened. I dropped my camera. Here are the last shots I got:
And the next trip I got? Paris, for Bastille Day. Sans camera. So the great debate ensues: fix it for $80 (it needs a new LCD screen) or wait for Santa to bring me a new one.
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