A few years ago, I told a friend of mine–who is originally from Ireland–that I visited Belfast while I was living in Dublin. I lived there in 2007. His response was: “Wow. You’re brave. I would never go there.”

This struck me is a bit odd.

I mean, I was well aware of the Troubles, but it hadn’t dawned on me, perhaps out of naivety, that it would still be an unsafe place to visit. But I, of course, hadn’t grown up in Ireland. My friend proceeded to tell me stories about childhood Catholic friends who had gotten caught in the wrong side of town in Northern Ireland.

Then tonight, on my way home from work on the subway, I was reading Malcolm Gladwell’s David and Goliath and his chapter on the turmoil in Northern Ireland, and it got me thinking: Did I totally underestimate the ethno-nationalism still present in Belfast?

What I subsequently discovered is that the city, particularly outside of the city center, still remains profoundly divided by religion. In fact, this is so much the case that there are a number of well known “interface areas” sprinkled across the urban landscape. These are real physical barriers that separate Catholics from Protestants, and vice versa. The goal being to minimize “inter-communal violence”, hence their second name as peace lines.

Being that city geek that I am, I of course had to see what these things looked like. It’s an unusual kind of urban condition. Well here’s what one looks like at Springfield Road and Workman Avenue in Belfast. The image is taken (from Google Streetview) looking south on Workman Avenue, from what I think is the predominately Protestant side.

If you look closely on the left hand side, you’ll notice that there’s an open door. Which has me wondering about how these interface areas actually function in everyday life. Is it common for people to pass through these gates? Is it a go at your own risk type of thing? Or are they hard and fast no go zones?

Also interesting to note is how these peace lines continue beyond just road intersections. Here you have an image of someone’s house that backs onto the same peace line as above. 

Can you imagine sitting in your backyard with a looming fence above you?

Ultimately this research has made me feel incredibly naive about a city I have visited. I should have been in tune to this. If anyone else has any additional insights, I’d love to hear from you in the comments below.

A few years ago, I told a friend of mine–who is originally from Ireland–that I visited Belfast while I was living in Dublin. I lived there in 2007. His response was: “Wow. You’re brave. I would never go there.”

This struck me is a bit odd.

I mean, I was well aware of the Troubles, but it hadn’t dawned on me, perhaps out of naivety, that it would still be an unsafe place to visit. But I, of course, hadn’t grown up in Ireland. My friend proceeded to tell me stories about childhood Catholic friends who had gotten caught in the wrong side of town in Northern Ireland.

Then tonight, on my way home from work on the subway, I was reading Malcolm Gladwell’s David and Goliath and his chapter on the turmoil in Northern Ireland, and it got me thinking: Did I totally underestimate the ethno-nationalism still present in Belfast?

What I subsequently discovered is that the city, particularly outside of the city center, still remains profoundly divided by religion. In fact, this is so much the case that there are a number of well known “interface areas” sprinkled across the urban landscape. These are real physical barriers that separate Catholics from Protestants, and vice versa. The goal being to minimize “inter-communal violence”, hence their second name as peace lines.

Being that city geek that I am, I of course had to see what these things looked like. It’s an unusual kind of urban condition. Well here’s what one looks like at Springfield Road and Workman Avenue in Belfast. The image is taken (from Google Streetview) looking south on Workman Avenue, from what I think is the predominately Protestant side.

If you look closely on the left hand side, you’ll notice that there’s an open door. Which has me wondering about how these interface areas actually function in everyday life. Is it common for people to pass through these gates? Is it a go at your own risk type of thing? Or are they hard and fast no go zones?

Also interesting to note is how these peace lines continue beyond just road intersections. Here you have an image of someone’s house that backs onto the same peace line as above. 

Can you imagine sitting in your backyard with a looming fence above you?

Ultimately this research has made me feel incredibly naive about a city I have visited. I should have been in tune to this. If anyone else has any additional insights, I’d love to hear from you in the comments below.