Ireland

Forwards: Ailish Quinn, Aoife Wafer, Beth Buttimer, Brittany Hogan, Cara McLean, Cliodhna Moloney-MacDonald, Dorothy Wall, Ellena Perry, Erin King, Fiona Tuite, Grace Moore, Jane Clohessy, Jemima Adams Verling, India Daley, Linda Djougang, Neve Jones, Niamh O’Dowd, Rosie Searle, Ruth Campbell, Sadhbh McGrath, Sam Monaghan, Sophie Barrett.

Backs: Alana McInerney, Anna McGann, Aoibheann Reilly, Aoife Dalton, Beibhinn Parsons, Caitriona Finn, Dannah O’Brien, Emily Lane, Enya Breen, Eve Higgins, Nancy McGillivray, Niamh Gallagher, Robyn O’Connor, Vicky Elmes Kinlan.

Oystercatchers fly off as I step through stalks of storm-racked kelp for an icy dip in the winter-grey sea. Actually, the water feels unexpectedly warm, perhaps in contrast to the freezing wind. But it’s cold enough to do its job: every nerve is singing and I feel euphoric. I’m exploring the Antrim coast, which has some of the UK’s finest beaches, and proves excellent for a sustainable break – even in the stormy depths of winter.

Ballygally Castle is a great place to start and offers a Sea Dips and Hot Sips package that includes dry robes, hot-water bottles and flasks. The affordable castle, celebrating its 400th birthday this year, is perhaps Northern Ireland’s only 17th-century hotel.

The landscape outside is wild and green, but nearby Larne is well connected with a railway station and regular boats from Scotland. Getting here without flying or driving from my home in Essex involves three trains, two underground stops, two buses and a ferry (foot passengers from £38 each way, cabins from £35). It’s a surprisingly enjoyable adventure: a couple of comfortable hours by rail from London to Liverpool (advance tickets from about £20-25 each way), then a short hop to Hamilton Square and the docks. I fall asleep with a moonlit view of the Mersey and wake before sunrise over Belfast Lough, which I watch from the train window. By mid-morning, I’m on the beach with a post-swim buzz.

Inside the glowing castle are hot baths, log fires, slow-cooked Irish beef, hearty bowls of chowder and warm wheaten scones. Breakfasts include a cauldron of porridge with Waggle-Dance honey and Bushmills whiskey to add. The oldest part of the castle was built in 1625 with Scottish baronial-style turrets, pitched roof and thick stone walls pierced by musket holes.

A boggy afternoon hike takes me up windswept Sallagh Braes, a huge basalt amphitheatre crowned with rare mosses, where views stretch north over Antrim’s wooded glens and east across the sea to Scotland. The dramatic cliffs have appeared in Game of Thrones and the 2022 Viking epic The Northman. There are standing stones, crumbling sheepfolds and bronze age barrows. Mewing buzzards circle overhead and longhorns graze the moorland tussocks.

The next morning, I head 15 minutes up the coast on bus 162 to Glenarm Castle. The walled garden reopens in spring and hosts a tulip festival in early May. Ancestral seat of the earls of Antrim, Glenarm is home to the 15th earl and family. Their butler, George Lynn, who originally took the job for a couple of weeks and is still here 25 years later, runs perfectly pitched, book-ahead tours of the castle.

Exploring Glenarm village, there’s a red sandstone arch with an arrow marked Forest. Following it, I soon reach ferny riverside woods, where little waterfalls pour down through mossy banks and ivy-covered pines, while a red squirrel leaps through the leafless canopy. Heading back as a storm hits the coast at high tide, waves break right on to the bus windscreen. I decide to spend what’s left of the day inside, exploring Ballygally Castle. Through an inscribed stone doorway and up a spiral staircase, the highest room in the tallest tower is said to be haunted by Lady Isabella Shaw, imprisoned here after failing to produce a male heir.

Next day, I take the train to Portrush (via Belfast), spotting herons from the window as the train passes Ballycarry station. It’s a 20-minute walk from Ballycarry station to the exhilarating Gobbins cliff path, due to reopen early in 2026 as a newly upgraded circular route. A rainbow arcs over the fields as the Derry railway heads for the north coast.

From Northern Ireland’s oldest hotel, I’m now in one of the newest reopenings. The Portrush Adelphi hotel finished a fancy refurb in April last year. Rooms (from £152 a night) come with hexagonal juniper-laden gin miniatures from the Basalt distillery in homage to the nearby Giant’s Causeway. I stroll round town, have homemade soup and sea views at Babushka, and hop on a bus to Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge (£7.50/£15 for children/adults). The twice-hourly bus 402 connects Portrush with a series of attractions, including the Giant’s Causeway and the world’s oldest licensed whiskey distillery at Bushmills. Spectacular views of clifftop castles and long sandy beaches roll past the windows.

Salmon fishers first strung the rope bridge between cliffs, 100 feet above a roiling ocean, near Ballintoy in the mid-18th century. Strong winds mean the bridge itself is closed today and I stroll the mile-long scenic path to the viewpoint feeling secretly relieved. There’s virtually no other company on this wintry afternoon but sheep on the hillside and bright stonechats perched on the brambles.

On my last day, I walk five blustery, dramatic miles of coast path to neighbouring Portstewart, catching a late lilac sunrise over Portrush harbour. Flocks of coral-legged turnstones swirl and scamper; huge gannets plunge into the foaming white waves at 60mph. From Harry’s Shack on Portstewart Strand, it’s a 20-minute bus ride to Louise McLean’s whitewashed cottage, firelit studio and welcoming workshop in a repurposed primary-school portable building.

Louise has been making baskets for 25 years and grows 15 types of willow in her wildlife-rich garden, inspired by the coast with its “undulating curves, waves, and weaves”. A sudden downpour thunders on the metal roof as we twist brown willow strands in the cosy, candle-dotted room and Louise tells me about her new residential workshops. They’re on Rathlin, Northern Ireland’s only year-round inhabited offshore island and one of many reasons to come back. Heading off on the first bus of the journey home, my head is full of wild weather and warm welcomes.

This trip was partly provided by Tourism Ireland with accommodation provided by Ballygally Castle (doubles from £88 room-only; Sea Dips package from £155). More information at ireland.com

Thousands of Irish farmers have taken to the streets to protest against a trade agreement between the European Union and the South American bloc Mercosur, a day after a majority of EU member states gave provisional approval to the long-negotiated accord.

In the central town of Athlone, tractors streamed onto roads on Saturday as farmers from across Ireland gathered to demonstrate against the deal, holding placards reading “Stop EU-Mercosur” and shouting slogans accusing European leaders of sacrificing their interests.

The protests came after Ireland, France, Poland, Hungary and Austria voted against the agreement on Friday but failed to block it.

The deal, more than 25 years in the making, would create one of the world’s largest free-trade areas, boosting commerce between the 27-nation EU and Mercosur countries Brazil, Argentina, Paraguay and Uruguay.

Under the agreement, Mercosur would export agricultural products and minerals to Europe, while the EU would export machinery, chemicals and pharmaceuticals under reduced tariffs.

While the deal has been welcomed by business groups, it has been met with strong pushback from European farmers, who fear their livelihoods will be undercut by cheaper imports from South America, particularly agricultural powerhouse Brazil.

Irish farmers have been especially vocal in their opposition, warning that the deal could allow an additional 99,000 tonnes of low-cost beef to enter the EU market, disrupting Ireland’s farming sector.

Beef and dairy are major employers in Ireland, and many farmers say they already struggle to make a sustainable income.

The Irish Farmers’ Association (IFA), the country’s main farming lobby group, described the EU states’ decision this week as “very disappointing”.

The group said it would renew its efforts to stop the deal in the European Parliament, which must still approve the accord before it can take effect.

“We expect Irish MEPs to stand behind the farming community and reject the Mercosur deal,” IFA President Francie Gorman said in a statement.

‘Severe implications’

At Saturday’s protest in Athlone, farmers voiced anger and anxiety about the future of rural Ireland.

Joe Keogh, a farmer from the nearby village of Multyfarnham, told the Reuters news agency that the agreement would devastate farming communities.

“It’s an absolute disgrace on behalf of the farmers and people that have put Europe where it is today,” he said. “It’s going to close down the whole countryside.”

Others raised concerns about food quality and production standards.

Earlier in the week, Irish Prime Minister Micheal Martin said he was worried that beef imported under the Mercosur deal might not be produced to the EU’s strict environmental standards.

“We have to be confident” that rules and obligations imposed on Irish farmers would not be undermined by imports produced under less stringent regulations, he said.

Protesters echoed those concerns. Placards on Saturday read, “Our cows follow the rules, why don’t theirs?” and “Don’t sacrifice family farms for German cars,” reflecting fears that agriculture is being traded off to benefit other European industries.

The demonstration followed similar protests in Poland, France and Belgium on Friday, underscoring widespread unease among farmers across Europe.

Although opponents have secured some concessions and compensation measures for EU farmers, Ireland and France have pledged to continue fighting the deal as it moves to a potentially tight and unpredictable vote in the European Parliament.

For many farmers on the streets of Athlone, the issue goes beyond trade.

“It’s about the quality of the food we are eating,” Niamh O’Brien, a farmer who travelled from Athenry in western Ireland, told Reuters. “It has severe implications for both the farmer and the consumer.”

As a long-distance runner, I had always wanted to use running as a means of travel, a way to traverse a landscape. I’d heard of people running across Africa, or the length of New Zealand, and the idea of embarking on an epic journey propelled only by my own two legs was compelling. I had just turned 50, and some might have said I was having a mid-life crisis, but I preferred to envisage it as a sort of pilgrimage – a journey in search of meaning and connection. And the obvious place to traverse, for me, was the land of my ancestors: Ireland.

Most summers as a child, my Irish parents would take us “home” to Ireland, to visit relatives, sitting on sofas in small cottages, a plate of soda bread on the table, a pot of tea under a knitted cosy. Having been there many times, I thought I knew Ireland, but, really, I knew only a tiny fragment.

And so I concocted a mad plan to run around the entire island of Ireland. I’d start in Dublin, the birthplace of my mother, and run down through the Wicklow mountains, all the way to Cork in the far south, before making my way up the Wild Atlantic Way, up past Galway, the birthplace of my father, home of the Finns, up to Donegal in the north, on through Northern Ireland, and then south to finish back in Dublin. A mere 1,400 miles. And along the way, I’d get to know Ireland more intimately.

It took me just under 10 weeks, averaging over 20 miles of running a day, while my wife and 15-year-old son travelled around in a motorhome, meeting me each evening with food and our home on wheels.

Many days I ran alone, often through a rolling landscape of farms, cows staring at me over hedges, the roads dotted with new-build houses picked straight, I was told, from a book called Bungalow Bliss.

Often, though, people would come out to run with me. Those were the easiest days, when the miles would slip by unnoticed, like water under a boat, the chat being the wind in our sails. Ireland is known for its warm welcome, it’s a national cliche, but we found ourselves regularly invited into people’s houses for food, or offered a bed for the night.

One evening the fuse in our motorhome blew, which meant we had no water pump. And I hadn’t yet showered. I found a hardware shop that was long closed for the day, and I did something I wouldn’t dream of doing at home in England: I knocked on the door. It just seemed that in Ireland you can do that sort of thing. Sure enough, a man opened it, not at all put out, and found me the right fuse in his shop drawer. He didn’t even charge me.

Virtually every town or village we stopped in had a pub seemingly lost in time, wood-panelled walls covered in random objects and pictures, a happy buzz emanating from people sitting in their cosy nooks. We learned to look for the handwritten sign in the pub window: “Trad session tonight.” It was never a performance, as such, but just whoever turned up that evening, sitting in one corner, playing their fiddles, guitars and accordions, chatting among themselves between songs.

Ireland has a lot of space. I hesitate to call it wild space, as it is one of the least biodiverse countries in the world, with barely any remaining natural forest. But I would often find myself running all day up and over mountains, or along stretches of coastline, without meeting a single other person. One memorable day, I ascended Knocknadobar in Kerry, one of Ireland’s many “holy mountains” (of which Croagh Patrick in Mayo is the most famous). These are known pilgrimage routes, and along the trail were 14 crosses with depictions of Jesus signifying the 14 Stations of the Cross. Despite not being religious, as I made my way up the mountain in the rain, the story of Jesus struggling on, being whipped each time he dropped his cross, picking it up and carrying on, began to resonate with my own struggle, and I felt it pushing me on.

What burden was I carrying, I began to wonder. I’d been in a low mood all that day, grumbling about the weather, the long roads, the endless running. But I decided to put all that down, and instead be grateful for where I was; that I was able to be out here; that my body was healthy and strong enough to do this. And in that moment – I kid you not – the clouds parted, and below the swooping drop of the mountain the sea appeared. I felt my spirits lift as I raced to the top and down the other side. To complete the sense of the entire day being an allegory in itself, at the bottom I found myself in a tropical garden, complete with palm trees and waterfalls, the day now warm and humid, basking in sunshine.

Had I emerged from the mountain into paradise? Not quite. It turned out it was the RHS award-winning Kells Bay House and Gardens.

One of Ireland’s hidden gems is the Beara peninsula, straddling Cork and Kerry, and one of the most spectacular sections of the Beara Way trail is the path from Adrigole to Glengarriff. Here, the mountains are pointy and lush, like something from a Japanese painting. The trail also passes through a rare section of native Irish forest in the Glengarriff nature reserve, and ends at the beautiful Blue Pool, a tidal harbour complete with a purpose-built bathing area.

Alas, I arrived as the tide was out, so there was no chance of a cooling dip, but I did find many other swimming spots on my run around Ireland. Of course, there were some stunning beaches, such as the white sands of Derrynane Beach in Kerry that, on a less windy day, could pass as a tropical beach in the South Pacific. I also found myself dipping in numerous lakes and waterfalls, such as the serene Poulanassy waterfall in Kilkenny.

Northern Ireland also has some wonderful coastline, and I was lucky to have two days of glorious sunshine as I ran along the north Antrim coast. The Giant’s Causeway is truly one of the most extraordinary landscapes, but there are other, less explored sections of coast, such as the area around Ballintoy Point, a fantastical array of rocky outcrops and hidden sandy coves. I don’t know if it was the power of the evening light on a late summer evening after 20-odd miles of running, but as I passed through it, I wanted to lie down on the grass and never leave.

Running as much as I did, I never dwelt long in any one place, and while I saw so much, my experiences were, by their nature, mostly fleeting. It felt as though I was getting an impressionistic image of Ireland. And the impression I got was of a country at ease, in no big rush to be anywhere else, letting the world in for a cup of tea and a chat, and a bit of music.

As for my own journey, and my sense of pilgrimage, I had set off not knowing if I could even run that far. There were times of struggle, and moments of transcendence, but most of all I came away feeling that I had been taken in and looked after by Ireland. The last day, headed into Dublin, I was joined by about 30 runners from across the country and we sang Molly Malone at the tops of our voices as we ran alongside the River Liffey, finishing at Ha’Penny Bridge, much to the bemusement of passing tourists. And then afterwards, we all went to the pub, where I enjoyed a Guinness.

Adharanand Finn has written three books on running: Running with the Kenyans; The Way of the Runner; and The Rise of the Ultra Runners (published by Guardian Faber)

Belfast, Northern Ireland — On New Year’s Eve, as fireworks lit the Belfast sky, the city’s streets were abuzz — and not only in celebration.

Hundreds gathered in solidarity with activists from the Palestine Action group who are on hunger strikes in prison. Their chants echoed past murals that do not merely decorate the city, but testify to its troubled past.

Along the Falls Road, Irish republican murals sit beside Palestinian ones. The International Wall, once a rolling canvas of global struggles, has become known as the Palestinian wall. Poems by the late Palestinian writer Refaat Alareer, killed in an Israeli air strike in December 2023, run across its length. Images sent by Palestinian artists have been painted by local hands.

More recently, new words have appeared on Belfast’s famed walls. “Blessed are those who hunger for justice.” Painted alongside long-familiar images of Irish republican prisoners like Bobby Sands are new names now written into the city’s political conscience: the four pro-Palestinian activists currently on hunger strike in British prisons, their bodies weakening as the days stretch on.

“This is not a city that will ever accept any attempt to silence our voice or our right to protest or our right to stand up for human rights,” said Patricia McKeown, a trade union activist who spoke at the protest.

“These young people are being held unjustly and in ridiculous conditions – and they have taken the ultimate decision to express their views … and most particularly on what’s happening to people in Palestine – why would we not support that?” she asked.

A hunger strike reaches Belfast

The protest in Belfast is part of a growing international campaign urging the British government to intervene as the health of four detainees deteriorates behind prison walls. All are affiliated with Palestine Action and are being held on remand while awaiting trial, a process campaigners say could keep them imprisoned for more than a year before their cases are heard. With legal avenues exhausted, supporters say the hunger strike has become a last resort.

The Palestine Action members are being held over their alleged involvement in break-ins at the United Kingdom subsidiary of Elbit Systems in Filton near Bristol, where equipment was reportedly damaged, and at a Royal Air Force base in Oxfordshire, where two military aircraft were sprayed with red paint. The prisoners deny the charges against them, which include burglary and violent disorder.

The prisoners are demanding release on bail, an end to what they describe as interference with their mail and reading materials, access to a fair trial and the de-proscription of Palestine Action. In July, the British government of Prime Minister Keir Starmer banned Palestine Action under a controversial anti-terrorism law.

Heba Muraisi is on day 61 without food. Teuta Hoxha is on day 55. Kamran Ahmed on day 54. Lewie Chiaramello on day 41. Hoxha and Ahmed have already been hospitalised. Campaigners describe it as the largest hunger strike in Britain since 1981, one they say is explicitly inspired by the Irish hunger strikes.

In 1981, Irish Republican Army and other republican prisoners went on hunger strike in Northern Ireland, demanding the restoration of their political status. Ten men died, including their leader, Bobby Sands, who was elected to the British parliament during the strike. Margaret Thatcher took a hardline public stance, but behind the scenes, the government ultimately sought a way out as public opinion shifted.

One prisoner, 29-year-old Martin Hurson, died on the 46th day. Others, including Raymond McCreesh, Francis Hughes, Michael Devine and Joe McDonnell, died between days 59 and 61. Sands died after 66 days on a hunger strike.

Sue Pentel, a member of Jews for Palestine Ireland, remembers that period vividly.

“I was here during the hunger strike,” she said. “I went through the hunger strikes, marched, demonstrated, held meetings, protested, so I remember the callous brutality of the British government letting 10 hungers die.”

“The words of Bobby Sands, which are ‘Our revenge will be the laughter of our children’. And we raised our families here, and they’re the same people, this new generation who are standing in solidarity with Palestine.”

‘If this continues, some will die’

Standing beneath a mural of Bobby Sands, Pat Sheehan fears history is edging dangerously close to repeating itself. He spent 55 days on a hunger strike before it was called off on October 3, 1981.

“I was the longest on that hunger strike when it came to an end in 1981, so in theory I would have been the next person to die,” he said.

By that stage, he said, his liver was failing. His eyesight had gone. He vomited bile constantly.

“Once you pass 40 days, you’re entering the danger zone,” Sheehan said. “Physically, the hunger strikers must be very weak now for those who have been on hunger strike for over 50 days.”

“Mentally, if they have prepared properly to go on hunger strike, their psychological strength will increase the longer the hunger strike goes on.”

“I think if it continues, inevitably some of the hunger strikers are going to die.”

Sheehan, who now represents West Belfast as an MLA for Sinn Fein, believes that Palestine Action-linked hunger strikers are political prisoners, adding that people in Ireland understand Palestine in a way few Western countries do.

“Ireland is probably the one country in Western Europe where there’s almost absolute support for the Palestinian cause,” he said. “Because we have a similar history of colonisation; of genocide and detention.”

“So when Irish people see on their TV screens what’s happening in Gaza, there’s massive empathy.”

Ireland’s stance

That empathy has increasingly translated into political action. Ireland formally recognised the state of Palestine in 2024 and has joined South Africa’s case at the International Court of Justice, alleging genocide in Gaza, a charge Israel denies.

The Irish government has also taken steps to restrict the sale of Israeli bonds, while Ireland has boycotted the Eurovision Song Contest over Israel’s participation and called for its national football team to be suspended from international competition.

But many campaigners say the government’s actions have not gone far enough. They argue that the Occupied Territories Bill, which seeks to ban trade with illegal Israeli settlements, has been stalled since 2018, and express anger that United States military aircraft transporting weapons to Israel are still permitted to pass through Ireland’s Shannon Airport.

Meanwhile, in the northern part of Ireland that remains part of Britain, the war in Gaza has dominated domestic politics.

The Stormont Assembly was thrown into crisis after Democratic Unionist Party education minister Paul Givan travelled to Jerusalem on a trip paid for by the Israeli government, prompting a no-confidence vote amid fierce criticism from Irish republican, nationalist, left-wing and unaligned political groups.

Belfast City Hall’s decision last month to fly a Palestinian flag was also fervently opposed by unionist councillors before it was eventually approved.

For some loyalist and unionist groups, support for Israel has become entwined with loyalty to Britain, with Israeli flags also flying in traditionally loyalist parts of Belfast.

With a legacy of identity rooted along sectarian lines, the genocide in Gaza has at times been recast along the old fault lines of division.

‘Solidarity reaches Palestine’

Yet on the streets of Belfast, protesters insist their solidarity is not rooted in national identity, but in humanity.

Damien Quinn, 33, a member of the Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) movement, said hunger strikes had always carried a particular weight in Ireland.

“We are here today to support the hunger strikers in Britain. But we are also here for the Palestinian people for those being slaughtered every single day,” he said.

Palestine Action, he said, “made it very clear they have tried signing petitions, they have tried lobbying, they’ve tried everything”.

“So when I see the way they are being treated in prison, for standing up against genocide, that’s heartbreaking.”

For Rita Aburahma, 25, a Palestinian who has found a home in Belfast, the hunger strike carries a painful familiarity.

“My people don’t have the luxury of speaking out, being in Palestine – solidarity matters,” she said.

“I find the hunger strikers are really brave – it’s always been a form of resistance. It does concern me, and many other people, how long it has taken the government to pay attention to them, or take action in any form.

“Nothing will save those people if the government doesn’t do something about them. So it is shocking in a way, but not that surprising because the same government has been watching the genocide unfold and escalate without doing anything.

“Every form of solidarity reaches the people in Palestine.”

Police say there is ‘insufficient evidence’ to bring charges after investigating comments made at Glastonbury festival.

British police have said they will take no further action over comments made by punk-rap duo Bob Vylan about the Israeli military during a performance at the Glastonbury music festival in June.

Avon and Somerset Police said on Tuesday that the remarks did not meet the criminal threshold required for prosecution “for any person to be prosecuted”.

During the performance, the group’s lead singer – Pascal Robinson-Foster, known by his stage name Bobby Vylan – led chants of “death, death” directed at the Israeli military over its genocidal war in Gaza.

Police said there was “insufficient evidence to provide a realistic prospect of conviction”. The force added that it interviewed a man in his mid-30s and contacted about 200 members of the public as part of the investigation.

The chant, which was livestreamed by the BBC as part of its Glastonbury coverage on June 28, prompted a widespread backlash. The broadcaster later apologised for transmitting what it described as “such offensive and deplorable behaviour”, and its complaints unit found the BBC had breached editorial guidelines.

Avon and Somerset Police said it had considered the intent behind the words, the wider context, relevant case law and freedom of expression issues before concluding the investigation.

“We believe it is right this matter was comprehensively investigated, every potential criminal offence was thoroughly considered, and we sought all the advice we could to ensure we made an informed decision,” the statement said.

“The comments made on Saturday 28 June drew widespread anger, proving that words have real-world consequences.”

Following the performance, the United States revoked the visas of Bob Vylan, forcing the cancellation of a planned US tour scheduled to begin in October.

Bob Vylan have launched defamation proceedings against Irish broadcaster RTE, alleging it falsely claimed they led anti-Semitic chants during the Glastonbury performance.

In July, the British police also dropped an investigation into the Irish-language rap group Kneecap after chants of “Free Palestine” during a performance.

Detectives sought advice from the Crown Prosecution Service and decided to take no further action, citing “insufficient evidence to provide a realistic prospect of conviction for any offence”.

Northern Ireland are 69th in the Fifa world rankings, 57 places below Italy and 27 adrift of Wales, but two spots above Bosnia.

Michael O’Neill’s side finished third behind Germany and Slovakia in the World Cup qualifying group but secured their play-off place thanks to their Nations League success.

Italy, Wales and Bosnia all finished second in their groups, behind Norway, Belgium and Austria respectively.

Northern Ireland are looking to qualify for their first major tournament since Euro 2016, when they were knocked out in the second round by a Wales side who went on to reach the semi-finals under Chris Coleman.

O’Neill was in the midst of his first, nine-year spell in charge of Northern Ireland at the time and is now three years into his second stint as his country’s manager.

“Down the years they’ve just had something and they know what they are. They’ve got a brilliant manager who I really like,” Bellamy added.

“I was lucky enough to spend a bit of time with him as well, and I loved him. No wonder his players do well. They won’t be playing at their home ground [against Italy], but I just feel they’ll be comfortable in any situation you throw them into.

“There will be pressure coming on Italy because they haven’t qualified for two World Cups. If I was Italy going into that game, with everyone expecting you to win, I’m telling you I’d be edgy. I wouldn’t be comfortable with it.

“Italy is one of the greatest nations in football and that’s a lot of responsibility to shoulder. To have to play a team like Northern Ireland, I’d just be thinking let’s get through this and see what happens in the other game.”