If you know anything about Northern Ireland or Belfast, you’ve likely heard of the Troubles. And if you haven’t, you probably don’t know much about this small corner of the UK at all.
Trying to explain the Troubles in a few paragraphs feels impossible. Even historians debate language and framing. Tourists often reduce it to Catholics vs. Protestants, Republicans vs. Loyalists, Irish vs. British. But those binaries barely scratch the surface. The conflict was political, territorial, cultural, and deeply personal. It shaped neighbourhoods, identities, and daily life in ways that still feel present.
If you really want to begin understanding Belfast, you have to listen. Talk to people. Sit with nuance. But if you only have a short time in the city, a Black Cab Tour is one of the most direct and eye-opening ways to start.
What Is a Black Cab Tour?
Black Cab Tours have become something of a Belfast institution. Drivers, many of whom lived through the Troubles themselves, guide visitors through areas most affected by the conflict. Over the course of a few hours, you move through neighbourhoods divided not just by roads but by history.
The tours typically include stops along the Falls Road and the Shankill Road, where political murals cover entire buildings. Your driver explains what each mural represents, who it commemorates, and how narratives differ depending on which side of the community you’re standing in.
Most drivers aim for balance. They present history as evenly as possible, even if their own background inevitably shapes their perspective. You quickly realise that objectivity here is complicated. Memory is layered. Identity runs deep.
And yes, you may find yourself quietly trying to guess where your driver is from.
The Peace Wall
The most striking stop on the tour is often the peace wall along Cupar Way, separating the nationalist Falls Road area from the unionist Shankill area in West Belfast.
The wall is tall, industrial, and unmissable. It was built not as a symbol of unity, but as a barrier. Its purpose was protection. Gates along the wall allow limited movement between communities, but they still close at night.
Seeing it in person shifts something. This is not distant history. These divisions are not theoretical. They exist physically, in steel and concrete.
Visitors are often invited to sign the wall. Many do. Messages of peace, hope, and solidarity fill the surface. Yet some locals view these signatures with discomfort. Good intentions don’t always equal understanding. When you’re standing there, pen in hand, it makes you pause. What does it mean to leave your mark on someone else’s conflict?
What struck me most was the quiet. Despite the wall’s scale and symbolism, the surrounding streets feel residential and ordinary. Children walk home from school. Laundry hangs in back gardens. Life continues alongside this towering reminder of division. The contrast is jarring. It forces you to confront how conflict embeds itself into everyday spaces, becoming background rather than headline.
Murals and Memory
Close to Cupar Way, the International Wall on the Falls Road adds another layer to the story. Unlike the more locally focused murals, this wall connects Belfast’s experience to global political struggles, environmental causes, and international figures. The artwork changes regularly, reflecting evolving conversations.
Across both communities, murals act as public storytelling. They memorialise hunger strikers, victims of bombings, paramilitary groups, and civil rights activists. They commemorate loss. They assert identity. They demand remembrance.
Some murals are defiant. Others are mournful. A few call for reconciliation. Together, they form an open-air archive of pain, pride, and political belief. Even if you arrive knowing very little, you leave with the sense that memory here is not passive. It is curated, protected, and sometimes contested. You quickly realise that in Belfast, walls speak.
July 12th and Living Tradition
If you visit in late spring or early summer, you may notice towering wooden structures rising in various neighbourhoods. These are bonfires built in preparation for July 12th, known as the Twelfth, commemorating the Battle of the Boyne. It is a significant day for many in the Protestant unionist community.
The bonfires can be enormous, constructed carefully over weeks. By late July, you may still see their charred remains. For outsiders, the scale can be surprising. For locals, it is tradition layered with symbolism and, at times, tension.
Even the anticipation of the day tells you something about how history lives in the present. It is not confined to textbooks. It is built, stacked, and eventually set alight.
A History That Isn’t Over
The tour delivers an overwhelming amount of information. Names, dates, events, and political groups. It can be hard to absorb it all in one afternoon. But what stays with you isn’t just the facts. It’s the realisation that this conflict, which many outside Northern Ireland think of as something resolved decades ago, still shapes daily life. The peace process dramatically reduced violence, yet division remains visible.
A Black Cab Tour doesn’t give you definitive answers. Instead, it complicates your understanding in the best possible way. It replaces headlines with human stories. It makes abstract conflict feel grounded and personal. And perhaps that’s the point.
When you travel, how often do you allow yourself to sit with a place’s difficult history rather than just its highlights?
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