After a hard day at work all I wanted was to get home, put my feet up and have a nice cup of tea.
But my usual ten minute journey home was transformed into an epic event. Bomb scares, anti-war protestors, heavy police presence and bad traffic management combined to create a quagmire, a terrible mess of misinformation, mismanagement and just plain incompetence. 55 minutes after crossing four police road blocks and having taken two major diversions, I managed to eventually reach my house.
Then I decide to walk down to the local shop, as I frequently do, to buy some bread and milk. Walking down I have to pass through two police cordons and answer questions as to my reasons for going. When I arrive in the village centre I then find out ALL the shops have all been forced to close and the residents have to just get by without any local services.
“Just great,” I think. Or words to that effect.
So I walk back to my house, via the police line and the questions again. Was it that long ago since I first answered them? Can I not get home in peace once today?
Into my car, as I have to drive 5 miles to the nearest shop that hasn’t been forced to close due to rabid security measures and police blockades. Through a further three police checks and another diversion I make it back to Lisburn, where I started home from work. I get my milk, and a paper too. Nice.
Then I return. Or attempt to. The road I just drove out of Hillsborough has now had a change of heart and is suddenly closed. So is the alternative back road. But wait, they don’t tell you this until you actually arrive at the far end, nearest to Hillsborough. So I have to U- turn again and retrace my steps right back into Lisburn. Where I started. Again.
All I wanted was a nice cup of tea. Not a lot to ask, is it? To relax after a hard day.
And now my milk is getting warm as I grow more and more irate.
So turn I do, and retrace my steps back into Lisburn again, and try the third option back road. Only to reach the end of it and be told the left turn (which I was FORCED to take earlier on my first way home) is no longer available to me. The available roads in have changed. So I have to go a further 4 miles around yet another way. Pass through several more check points and minor diversions to finally reach a road that will lead me home. Only a 17 mile round trip to get my milk.
But am I home yet? Am I buggery.
A group of anti-war (or anti-Bush) protestors crowd the street. And a much larger group of people just there, hanging out, to watch the anti-war protestors do their thing. And the obligatory massive police presence. Just in case someone dares to try to get home. God forbid.
So I wait, stranded in my car in the middle of the street. At least I have a newspaper to read. But having bought a local rag (Belfast Telegraph) I have only articles about the impending visit of Bush and Blair and how much disruption it may cause to the residents of Hillsborough. Well, thanks for the heads up, Mr paper. So there may be some police presence. Must look out for that. It’s good to be in the know.
Now, we have had visitors before. Many politicians gather here. The Queen is a frequent visitor. Princess Anne is here this week too. But there has never been, even with Clinton, anything remotely like this level of obtrusive and overt police presence. A massive steel barrier is erected to block the entire Main Street, where many people live. They become prisoners in their own homes. The shops and bars cannot take deliveries or serve customers. The scouts cannot meet in their scout hut. No buses run through the town to connect those with no cars with their friends. (The A1 dual-carriageway is closed, the main route from Belfast to Dublin). Anyone taking a bus home has to walk the last three miles from Sprucefield. No shops remain open. No provisions can be bought locally. No one can move about without their motives being questioned. I can’t even get to my favourite pub. I can’t get to any pub.
So at 7.44pm I finally get back into my house with my milk. I get to make my tea. Settle down and unwind.
Forget it. Settle. Chill. Really.
Fuckers.
