I had one mission in Belfast, aside from getting my little cousin Rosie tipsy. It was to find Jon Snow and get married and/or pregnant. If that failed, my next target was Joffrey Baratheon.
This may sound strange to those who don’t follow Game of Thrones. First, I feel bad for you. Second, it wasn’t really my idea. I was threatened at proverbial gunpoint by a gaggle of bored female relatives to find a member of the Game of Thrones cast, captivate him with my feminine wiles, and bring him (or her, they’re not picky) back to New Jersey where we would live happily ever after.
What does this have to do with Belfast? Not much, aside from the fact that Game of Thrones is filmed there. At my aunts’ request, I walked an hour and a half from the city center to the film studio to stalk famous people. Unfortunately, the set was a ghost town except for a very mobile security guard. Large signs on the fences read “NO PHOTOGRAPHY”. I fumbled with my camera in my pocket, occasionally slipping it out to snap a tilted, out-of-focus shot of the trailers.
I let my family down. For that I am sorry. Maybe I should try Croatia next, where the outdoor scenes of GoT are filmed.