the passive voice

Having spent a lot of my childhood in Lincolnshire, England, coverage of Northern Ireland was from the viewpoints of the Guardian and BBC but without (probably very fortunately) any local opinion from local people. The names of some of the areas we went through on the open-top bus today were very familiar, but most of the imagery I remember was people-level, rather than cityscape, so passing through various places didn't have quite the same impact as, for example, walking through the Brandenburg Gate in 2005. With the inadequacies in the history curriculum of an English grammar school since counteracted, I wasn't surprised to see things like a Glaswegian football team's supporters' club, which would have confused me in the early nineties. There are still more flags on show in various places than I was comfortable with, particularly greater densities of England flags than I've ever seen anywhere in England even on our visit to a particularly Brexity district of a Brexity county a month after the 2016 referendum.

The tour also popped past some less contentious architectural stuff in the town centre, then went past the main dockyard on the south bank before crossing back over the river and heading past Queen's and the Ulster Museum, at which we alighted after a tour and half clockwise from the hotel. I could have spent the rest of the day there and not seen everything, but managed a bit of the art stuff and some of the museum stuff before it was deemed time to leave in order to catch the tour bus back, though Amos and I just headed straight back on foot rather than wait an unspecified length of time to then spend another hour on the bus, followed about twenty minutes later by Nicky and Edgar when they asked someone at the bus stop how long the next tour bus was likely to be.