I honestly believe that the best cure for a hangover is St. George’s Market. Running from 10am to 3.30pm on a Sunday morning, the market has such a ridiculous variety of breakfasty goodness, that you’re bound to be able to find something to eat that’ll make you feel somewhat more human.
This week, I went with a bacon bap. Standard, no? Some weeks, I just eat a lot of cupcakes. Much needed sugar rush, that’s my excuse.
Anywho, one of Belfast’s oldest attractions, St. George’s Market runs markets every Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Friday is the variety market, Saturday is devoted to food, and Sunday is a wonderful mix of both. In the past, craft usually meant badly made things that you could buy elsewhere for cheaper, but this is definitely not the case in St. George’s. I never fail to be impressed by the amazing pieces that local people have made, or baked, or painted.
I am trying my hardest not to just post hundreds of pictures of the stalls, but a couple can’t hurt, right?
Colourful! I know I keep using to word variety, but where else can you buy fish and Lego under the same roof? I can’t think of any reason or event where you would have to, but it’s nice to have the option.
The last picture there is, I’m pretty sure, Halloween specific, because I’ve never seen it before, and it made me giggle. Monsters? Having breakfast? Bizarre! Teehee. There was an offer to have my picture taken at the table, but I usually don’t let men wearing giant fluffy Ugg boots take pictures of me. It’s a good rule to live by.
This leads me neatly on to my next reason for loving St. George’s, asides from amazing crafts and yummy food – there are some crazy characters down there. Everyone is keen to have a chat, and a lot of the stalls will take requests for custom pieces. There’s a great vibe around the whole place – it’s the sort of atmosphere that you’re proud to call Northern Irish charm.
I particularly love the market at the time of year, because it’s chilly and everyone is all bundled up, and it looks like Christmas. I know, I know, the word ‘Christmas’ is treated like a swear word before mid-November, but y’know what? Shut up. Halloween is over, my spooky decorations are all packed up, and I need to start thinking about the next big party. It so happens that my birthday is between now and December, but for some reason, the whole Western world isn’t quite so excited about me turning twenty three. I don’t know why.
Alas, everywhere has it’s downfalls, and St. George’s, for all it’s loveliness, is not exempt. It can be bloody freezing, and if you want a coffee, you will have to queue. In fact, if you want any food, you will have to queue. Then, once you get your food, you’re going to have to stand to eat it, because there are around eight chairs, and they are permanently taken by old people, who must get there at around 4am to get a seat. You can always try walking and eating, but prams and children are hard to navigate around at the best of times.
Another downfall? If you don’t like fish, it sucks to be you, because the whole place smells of it.
Parking is scarce around the area, too – my advice? Either get there EARLY (which, given the previous information provided about hangover cures, seems unlikely), or park in Castlecourt or wherever and dander over. Trust me, it’ll save you time in the long run.
That was a horrible burst of negativity, huh? Well, I’ll finish on the best point. St. George’s Market is a tourist attraction. There are always Americans and Germans floating around, but occasionally, you might see someone from out of town that you recognise…
Yup, that’s me, and some homies, and Maisie Williams, aka, Arya Stark. GLORIOUS.