ONE of the really useful things about travelling to other places is the often abrupt wake-up call you get that makes you realise how good our lifestyle is here on the Southern Highlands.

None of us should ever take it for granted.

WHILE in Belfast earlier this month we experienced hatred that I rather naively thought had gone away, after the 'troubles' in Northern Ireland appeared settled with the Good Friday agreement of 1998.

But the hatred hasn't gone away.

Tension still bubbles since those dirty thirty years between 1968 and 1998 when countless people were injured, 3700 were murdered and over 50,000 bombs went off, while the people of Northern Ireland lived every day with tension, fear, death, misery and loathing.

SPEAKING with a catholic taxi driver and former IRA operative in the Falls Road was a chilling experience, particularly when we were standing beside the high barbed-wire-covered fence that still physically separates the loyalists from the republicans.

He detests the "English invaders" of his country, claiming to have been tortured during the troubles and shot at three times.

As he rattled off atrocities and killings committed by the loyalists, loathing was in his voice and venom dripped from his lips.

While talking with us, his eyes were constantly averted, darting a glance at every passing car and every passing person. He was on edge.

We certainly heard a very one-sided version of history, but neither group is blameless in the bigoted Shankhill Road, Crumlin Road and the Falls Road neighourhoods.

THE next day we caught a local bus out to the old Crumlin Road Gaol, which was almost a pre-school for future Northern Ireland politicians.

Heavyweights like Eamon De Valera, Ian Paisley, Martin McGuinness, Michael Stone and Bobby Sands all did time in there during the troubles.

We left Crumlin Road and wandered off into the loyalist area by ourselves to have a better look, since our very republican taxi man was reluctant to linger there the day before.

The place is so run down, like a poor ghetto in an otherwise prosperous city. We felt uneasy.

West Belfast is not a smart place for strangers to be wandering aimlessly.

ACTUALLY, one day Dudley pulled up at a Belfast petrol station and asked for ten quid's worth of petrol.

The attendant told him they didn't sell petrol.

Dudley was a tad surprised, but undeterred, he asked the attendant to check the oil.

"Sorry, Sir, we don't sell oil."

"Bloody Hell", muttered Dudley.

"Well would you mind topping up the radiator then?"

"Sorry, Sir, we don't do water here, but since you're from Australia, I must tell you that this is not a real service station, it's just a front for the IRA."

Dudley smiled. "Well in that case mate, you should be able to blow up the tyres for me."

PERHAPS we shouldn't joke about Northern Ireland and the troubles - perhaps we should. Maybe a bit of humour is what they need. Who knows, but sure as hell, through the eyes of an observer from far away, there is still a very eerie atmosphere there.

THE day we were leaving Belfast, police were looking for the cold-blooded gunman who shot dead one of the IRA's most senior members the day before.

Gerard "Jock" Davison, a one-time IRA commander, was shot at least once in the back of the head in front of children going to a local primary school at around 9am.

We had been wandering those same streets near the markets the day before.

On the way to the train station, we asked our taxi driver if there would be recriminations.

He didn't hesitate and his answer was unequivocal.

"It will be swift," he said matter-of-factly. "They'll know who it was."

THOSE of you who have travelled in the Balkans and many other disputed parts of the world will have all experienced the same feeling of unfinished business simmering.

Prejudice, bitterness and distrust bred into people across generations of bickering and fighting over lines on maps. Hatred is ingrained in the genes and won't go away any time soon.

That is no way to live.

Yes, we should never take for granted how good we have things, living on the beautiful and peaceful Southern Highlands of NSW.