PEACE TRAIN by CAT STEVENS. Story by John McDonald.

South Africa/ Northern Ireland, 1972

My passport bears the stamp “VERTREK (DEPART) 25 JULY 1972”.

I am leaving South Africa after six months of travelling with two Aussies and one Kiwi in a VW Kombi.

My mate Kevin and I, both being relatively average surfers, decided to visit South Africa in pursuit of waves.  High on the list were Cape St Francis and Jeffries Bay. These two iconic wave spots were highlighted in Bruce Brown’s epic surf movie “The Endless Summer”.

Apartheid was in effect, and witnessing it firsthand provided a direct understanding of its impact.  In six months, I learned a lot about South Africa and had mostly good experiences, with some bad ones.

I decided to part ways with my travelling companions and head for my homeland of Belfast Northern Ireland.

The South African Airways 747 Jumbo Jet was quite an imposing sight on the runway. After saying my goodbyes, I boarded the aircraft and took my seat, contemplating the future in Ulster.  It had always intrigued me as to why we sometimes have such a strong pull back to the homeland.

Approximately 30 minutes into the flight, I was listening to the in-flight music selection when the Cat Stevens’ song Peace Train began playing. Though unfamiliar with this tune, its lyrics immediately struck a chord with me.

now I’ve been happy lately
thinkin about the good things to come
and I believe it could be
something good has begun
cause out on the edge of darkness
there rides a peace train
oh peace train take this country
 come take me home again

Could this leviathan I was onboard be a peace train? Would I be able to convince my Belfast family that there was a better world out there? I had, after all, emigrated to New Zealand in 1966 where a person’s religious beliefs didn’t divide communities, where people just got on with living, where surfing and the great outdoors formed an important part of the Kiwi lifestyle.

After an overnight stay in London and a series of rigorous security checks at Heathrow I was soon on a flight to Belfast – a short hop across the Irish Sea.

Flights into Belfast airport approach via the northeast of the city. Below I could see “Napoleon’s Nose” a large basalt rock outcrop on the Cave Hill Country Park. I spent many schoolboy adventures there playing cowboys and Indians scrambling through the wooded hillsides.

The countryside below stretched out into a patchwork of green fields neatly divided by stone-walls and hedgerows. This aerial view of the peaceful rural landscape somewhat betrayed what was really happening at ground level.

Upon arriving in Belfast, I was met by family members and escorted to the neighbourhood housing estate.  Initially, everything appeared considerably smaller than I recalled, and my initial observations suggested that very little had changed.  How wrong I was. Heavily armoured police, British Army troops and the ubiquitous roadblocks and checkpoints were commonplace in and around Belfast.

My cousins developed a unique ability to identify the type of explosions occurring, whether it was an incendiary device (petrol bomb), a homemade nail bomb, or something significantly larger and more destructive.  The evening news comprised mostly of details of where the latest bombings had occurred and how many casualties and fatalities there had been.

A memorable moment was when one of my cousins commented on an item at the end of the news bulletin. Footage of muddy music fans dancing in the rain at the Isle Of Wight Festival was unimpressive.  “Look at those stupid eejits “(idiots) she said.

I quietly thought, I know where I’d rather be.

It was clear during visits that many had chosen sides, and the younger generation was being indoctrinated into sectarian groups.  On one evening out at a friend’s house I heard a muffled explosion that sounded relatively close by. I was immediately reassured, “sure that was only a wee nail bomb, so it was”.

now I’ve been cryin lately
thinkin about the world as it is
why must we go on hating
why can’t we just live in bliss

It had been six years since I had emigrated from Northern Ireland, it would be another 22 before I returned and it took another 26 before the Good Friday peace agreement was struck.

Perhaps the Peace Train did eventually come to Belfast and perhaps it also went via South Africa.

Stereo Story 854

John McDonald will be part of the Stereo Stories concert at Write Around the Murray on Saturday 13 September, 2025.  Details.