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Belfast, N. Ireland Aug 21, 1965

Dear Jack:
 Raining hard today, has been all night with only a short stop of an hour or so. I'd say this is the coolest summer Mabel and I have

known since the summer of 1934. Not long ago I had my shoes repaired and had to listen to a considerable amount of advice from the cobbler. I thought to take advantage of him, so asked how it is that when it rains, nobody seems to wear rubbers. "Oh," he said, "I've heard of them. You see, they never caught on here." Sane in Sou. Ireland, resulting in damaged leather and discomfort, and no doubt illness. Back to my shoes for the last time. Owing to the constant state of rivalry between N. Ireland and Eire, it's best to mail the shoes from London, as up here we're the same as in the jolly old Empire. What's left of it. Would you register, or rather, insure the package (just wrapped good in paper, no box).

 It seems the BBC has a Belfast outlet which actually does originate plays, etc., so I'll give the local station a try, maybe next week.

My wife's sister is visiting us this week, so we went out a little more than we might have done just now (business of "settling-in," as they say over here). The other day we visited a seaside place called Bangor, a really nice, clean resort, in contrast to Bray, outside of Dublin. Bray is one of those tawdry, fish & chip, postcard shack seafronts. We were very disappointed with Bray, as with DunLaoghaire, though the surrounding towns were pleasant enough, especially the Wicklow Hills near Bray. We are not far from the countryside here, and the vegetables have a fresh taste, so do the eggs. Oh, being a cross-channel town, we have two ships leaving every night. One for Glasgow, the other for Liverpool. All night trips, word covered by edge of paper one saves half and sees more. Trust you and your wife are well. Mead P.S. If you'd like to see more of Eng., plus some of Scotland, investigate the sea-rail trip with Br. Rys.