I was a little nervous about Belfast after lasts month’s attempted bombings. I arrived after dark, and having spent all day travelling, settled in for an early night. I woke early and spent several quiet hours walking around the city centre. Sunday morning is a quiet time for Belfast – the only other person I saw was a German tourist following a similar route. Even the 24 hour Tesco is closed until one in the afternoon.

It’s a bizarre feeling walking though a city that has such a violent recent history. It reminds me a little of Sarajevo, but with fresher wounds. The “peace line”, a three-mile wall dividing the Falls Road and Shankill neighbourhoods, still stands, though the tanks guarding the gates have been gone a decade. The police stations are heavily fortified and shelter a legion of armoured cars. Republican and Unionist propaganda and graffiti covers the walls of the working class suburbs, and there’s barely a city block that doesn’t fly at least one Union Jack, Tricolour or St. George Cross.

Still, the people are as cheerful and friendly as anywhere else on this island, with accents equal parts entertaining and unintelligible.

Just don’t talk religion or politics.

The Ulster photoset is here.

Days without getting soaked to the bone: zero.

Wednesday saw me on a bus through County Clare and the Burren, bound towards the Cliffs of Moher, towering more than a hundred metres over the Atlantic ocean. I’ve gotten used to forecasts like “Maximum of 0ºC, humidity at 100%,” but the wind off the Atlantic was still a surprise. It was strong enough to drag spray up the cliff face and onto us poor, shivering tourists. Still, a beautiful sight, and it was lovely to reacquaint myself with the Atlantic.

The Burren is a limestone karst landscape covering a few hundred square kilometres of Co. Clare, packed full of neolithic tombs, livestock and little else. According to Edmund Ludlow the Burren is “country where there is not enough water to drown a man, wood enough to hang one, nor earth enough to bury him…… and yet their cattle are very fat; for the grass growing in turfs of earth, of two or three foot square, that lie between the rocks, which are of limestone, is very sweet and nourishing.”

Photoset for Galway and Co. Clare is here.

Buttermilk scones

Makes about eight medium sized scones.

• 2 cups plain flour
• 3 tsp baking soda
• 1 tbsp sugar
• 40g butter, cubed
• 1 cup buttermilk
• ¼ cup water
• jam and whipped cream, to serve

Preheat oven to 180ºC. Sift together flour, sugar and baking soda. Add butter, rubbing into mixture with fingertips until crumbly consistency. Add buttermilk and water, and stir until just combined. Spoon onto a greased tray. Bake for 15-20 minutes, or until firm and just crisp on the outside. Serve with whipped Irish cream and strawberry jam.

I would have taken photos, but we ate them too quickly.

I’ve learned my lesson about leaving cover without an umbrella. The Irish rain takes no prisoners.

Dublin’s a friendly city. Strangers have been wishing me a good morning – although I’m not sure whether this is due to the innate hospitality of Dubliners or simply because I smile them down until they say something.

Apart from some strike action that rendered most of the city closed yesterday, I’ve been having a great time. I follow my usual tourist tactic: rambling through inner-city streets until something catches my eye or I get hungry. Despite my best efforts, I’ve yet to get completely lost. Highlights so far are the Caravaggio room in the national gallery, swans at Stephen’s Green, and a pint of Guinness at the top of the Guinness brewery.

Catching the train to Galway in about an hour.

Along with study, I’ve spent the year making new friends, taking photographs and mastering the art of wok-cooking.

My aims for this blog are several-fold:

• I want to journal the experience of being a student nurse in Queensland’s healthcare system, although as my name is featured in large type rather prominently on every page of the blog, I’ll be trying to avoid making comments that’ll get me sued/fired/stalked.
• A showcase for my photography. I occasionally produce work I’m happy with. You’ll see it here.
• Recipes. I’m working on a book, and many of my recipes and associated photographs will be proofed here.
• Writing. I remember a time when I actually enjoyed producing prose and poetry. This was probably before I was required to APA reference every statement I make.

I leave for Dublin in two days time.  The night before I fly, I’m hosting a steamboat dinner-party for friends I haven’t seen in weeks, thanks to my exams and hospital practicum. I’ll reach Dublin on Monday morning, and after a little under a week exploring Ireland I’ll cross the sea to Edinburgh, for a long-awaited reunion with my beautiful girlfriend, Hannah.

Can’t wait. I’ll keep you posted.