Family history

1900 map of Belfast: Avon Street is in the triangle at the top where the railtracks divide, just below the dock

I posted a few months ago about tracing our family tree in Northern Ireland. I've been trying to tie up a few loose ends since then, but without much success.

My great great grandmother, Elizabeth Jackson, was born in Aughnacloy, Co Tyrone, in 1878, and at some point moved to Belfast; she gave birth to daughter Frances Annie, my Gran's mum, in November 1900 in a place called Avon Street.

When we stayed in Belfast, we discovered that Avon Street had been demolished, but we found it on an old map in the Linen Hall library (just before my handbag was stolen, grr). It was in an area bordering the railway and just across from the docks, then one of the busiest in the world and the place where Titanic was built. According to our taxi driver, the area was popular with dock workers. It was something of a slum, too - the census returns we have for Avon Street show the houses consisted of only three rooms, some of them housing families of seven or more.

According to her birth certificate Frances Annie, my great grandmother, was born at 75 Avon Street. I searched a 1902 Belfast directory at the Linen Hall library and there were several Jackson families in the street, but none at 75. The Public Record Office has since sent me the census return for number 75; sadly it was unoccupied when the census was taken, so I've reached a bit of a dead end. All I can surmise is that at some point between the birth of her daughter and the census four months later, Elizabeth Jackson moved on.

The other mystery surrounds the identity of Frances Annie's father. Her birth certificate names William Graham; Elizabeth used to say that they were married but that he had died before their baby was born, from an illness caused by his work as a tanner. She also claimed that he was called Jimmy, not William.

We haven't been able to trace a marriage certificate, which suggests that Frances Annie was probably illegitimate. It's hard to know where to go from here - the truth may have died with my great great grandmother.

But we did discover one intriguing lead at PRONI - there was a Graham family living in Dee Street, round the corner from Avon Street, in 1901. They had several children, among them William, 19, and James, 25, neither married and both working in the iron industry. Elizabeth was 22 when she had her daughter; she may well have hung around with these Graham brothers. So perhaps the secret isn't lost after all.

On the way home

As you can see, Ireland is just as the advertisers would have you believe - all green hills, flocks of toucans and sunshine. It never rains. Oh no.

Strike a light

Irish hospitality

Had a lovely trip out to the Clandeboye estate just outside Bangor today - I want a library just like Lady Druffin's billiard room, crammed full of first editions and random artefacts.

Had dinner at the Crown Bar, one of Belfast's most notorious gin palaces and not entirely spoiled by tourists like us just yet. The tables are set in private booths, with mirrored panels, real gas lamps and plaques to strike your matches on. The food is basic pub grub - beef and ale pie, scampi, mushroom and ale pie, with chips or champ - and the Guinness is good. Finally, a proper boozer!

Feeling Eurovisiontastic!

Ok, so watching Eurovision in a hotel room on my own with no booze is very sad, but I wouldn't miss it, it's fab! Amazingly we're coming second so far, halfway through the voting. Norway already look like runaway winners though.

Not too many comedy moments this year but Albania had a strange man in a green lycra suit cavorting with their singer, Moldova had morris dancers on speed, and Germany get my vote for their swing number and Dita von Teese's off-camera stripping.

Are people voting for us because they've changed the voting system to stop block voting, because they've got over the Iraq war thing (which was the excuse for nul points a few years ago), because the song is good or because Andrew Lloyd Webber and Jade have been on a European media blitz for the last few months? They're even giving away the single with a Russian mag apparently. That's the way to win it! Or at least to score some points.

People in Ireland are lovely...

...except the ones that nick your handbag. But before I get onto that, this is the current holder of tackiest souvenir prize - I nearly bought it for Peter but I thought it was too tacky even for him!

Back to the bag. We dropped into the Linen Hall library to see if we could get any more family info. We found a map showing the street great gran was born on, which used to back onto the railway tracks in Belfast but was bulldozed years ago, and a directory that listed the household heads at the time.

Just before the library closed I popped over to copy the pages, and foolishly left my bag in the corner out of view behind the stacks - in my defence there was only me and the librarian left, and libraries are usually such civilised places (!). When I got back two minutes later it had vanished. Luckily I had my wallet with me, but my camera and my passport were in the bag.

The librarians were helpful but kept pointing out the signs that said not to leave your belongings unattended, just to rub in how dumb I'd been. I rang the police for a crime number (they said they'd send someone round to check the CCTV, which would never happen at home!) and I was just starting to plan what to do with my extended holiday, while I waited for a new passport, when Mark texted. Someone had called him and said they had my passport and bag; news to him, I hadn't got round to telling him I'd lost it. Some kind bus driver had found my bag and instead of chucking it in the lost property cupboard like they do in London had thought to ring the contact number in my passport. Cue a quick dash to the bus office to collect it before they closed for the weekend.

I don't get to stay an extra week, and some idiot is laughing at my holiday snaps as we speak, but at least I have a good excuse to buy a new camera. Who'd have thought the library was a hotbed of crime? Proves it's the quiet ones you have to watch.

Another close-up

Present from the Giant's Causeway

Sculpture close-up

Spot the leprechaun

Public art

An artist at Belfast's Europa bus station has come up with the best use of tacky souvenirs I've ever seen - turn them into sculpture! I'd love to have one of these at home. Almost as good as the musical, light-up, spinning Madonna (the Catholic one, not the Kabbalah one) we saw in Portugal years ago.

Smoked haddock

Scampi and chips

The Barking Dog

I just wrote an ace review of the Barking Dog (not this one obviously!). Then I pressed the wrong button and deleted it. That's my excuse for waffling on and I'm sticking to it.

Basically it's fab - the atmosphere and decor is relaxed but modern (despite its outward appearance of an upmarket Wetherspoons), the staff are lovely, and the food is remarkable.

There are a few oddities on the menu - the asparagus starter was really tasty but I'm not sure the poached egg benefited from being breaded - but it generally erred on the right side of wacky.

The truffled gnocchi with parmesan and mushrooms (in the pic) was delicious - yes, even the mushrooms - and it's rare that a veggie dish is inventive and tasty! Gran loved the smoked haddock with poached egg and bearnaise sauce, and even hard to please Uncle John enjoyed the scampi (though the tartare wasn't punchy enough!).

If you ever find yourself in Belfast (you never know) make your way to Malone Road pronto.

At the Barking Dog

We're going back for dinner so 'review' later.

Rhododendron

Botanic gardens

Guilty tourist

Peace mural, Falls Road - it was a bit weird taking tourist snaps, they used to be such contentious areas, I half expected someone to chuck bottles at us, and I wouldn't have blamed them.



Bobby Sands memorial, Falls Road



Memorial to the Queen Mum, Shankill Road

Stormont

Did a City Sightseeing tour on an open air bus this afternoon, it was a bit fresh but we just beat the rain!

The craic

We've not had a chance to sample Belfast's finest food and drink yet, but we had a nice lunch at this art nouveau cafe, Cafe Vaudeville. Its chandeliers, painted pillars, mirrors and carvings are completely over the top - locals call it Cafe Gaudyville - but i don't care, it's fab.

The Belfast Eye

You get a great view of the city from the wheel, right next to City Hall (in the pic). It goes round 4 times though - we were a bit nervous about spending the night up there.