Damian is a stout Irishman in his late thirties or early forties. He speaks with a heavy but soft and kind accent, and tends to say phrases the exact way he said before, repeating himself like a broken record. He has a wife and four children, the youngest being nineteen, two and a half children out of the house, one and a half in; the oldest stays half the week.

Being a tourguide for Paddy’s Tours, Damian earns his cash by driving passengers along the Causeway. If they need something, he would do his best to make it happen when it can happen. He offers water and chocolate a lot, and that may or may not be related to his smoking habits and the no smoking rules of the taxi, as to get to the chocolate or water, the van must be stopped and the trunk trunk must be opened to get at it, giving him time to light up a smoke for even just a second.

While other tour guides would say it to be a joke, Damian will tell others that Christians can be told apart from other Belfast residents by looking for one big eye and eyebrow. While the murdering, bombing, and the segregation of the troubles doesn’t sit well within him, he thinks some riots are good fun. “Belfast is the kindest city in Northern Ireland,” he says, “just not to itself.”