Mrs RM took me on a short tour of Belfast’s Primark and the Liverpool FC club store, which revealed a bustling and modernised town centre with a pleasing amount of cranes. Cranes are a great sign in a city.
A year ago she’d stayed yards from Mourne Seafood Bar, sharing its outside area with this place;
No-one watching as the Cup Final dragged into its 3rd hour, live music the entertainment in the sun.
Well, Kelly’s Cellars look authentic, and Quinno had wrote it was one of the top places for Guinness. And so it was.
“Dimly-lit, ramshackle and louche interior” he wrote, and so it is.
A great place to stare at the walls, wondering what those stickers are about, while waiting for your pint.
I never did find out what was in the Lidl bag. Probably crisps. Crisps are the accompaniment to the smoothest, creamiest, unchilled Guinness on the trip.
I wouldn’t claim any Guinness reached the heights of Wexford 1995, but this was close.
Yes, the obligatory lacings shot.
Hogging the end of a large table designed for a dozen while sharing a pint and a packet of Taytos seemed a bit rude, so we left.
And headed for the umbrellas.
Oddly, umbrellas were the one thing we didn’t need on our Belfast weekend.