Belfast Mela 2025 – More Than a Festival, But Still Room to Grow
I visited the Belfast Mela 2025 on the Sunday afternoon, stepping through the gates of Botanic Gardens with ticket in hand and the Ulster Museum standing quietly behind. Almost at once, I felt swept into something bigger than an event—a living mosaic of people, colours, sounds, scents. It’s a festival that doesn’t so much wait for you to explore it as it enfolds you in its rhythm.
I moved slowly, never hurrying. The Mela is not about rushing from one thing to the next; it’s about letting it happen around you. Dancers warmed up on the grass, children left bright smudges of colour on a communal canvas, and under a tree someone tuned what I thought was a sitar, its notes carrying faintly through the early autumn leaves.
The stalls were plentiful, scattered across the park like a trail of curiosities. I stopped at a stand of handmade jewellery influenced by Indian folk designs, beautiful in its detail. And yet, when it came to food, I couldn’t help but notice a limitation. There was plenty on offer—samosas, curries, noodles, churros—but the breadth of cultures represented on stage and in the crowds wasn’t reflected fully in what could be tasted. For a festival whose heartbeat is diversity, I found myself wishing the food matched the same scale of imagination: dishes from Africa, the Middle East, South America, even local fusion from Belfast’s own communities. Food is often the easiest bridge between cultures, and at the Mela, that bridge deserves to be longer, wider, more adventurous.
Later, the stages took over the day. At the World Stage I watched the Filipino dancers—disciplined yet joyful—while behind me a group of teenagers tried to copy their steps, laughing as they stumbled into rhythm. That moment struck me: the Mela isn’t just spectacle, it’s participation. The same could be true of the food—more interactive experiences, tasting, sharing, even cooking demos—ways for visitors not just to consume but to join in.
By the time I reached the Healing Arts tent, the pace had shifted: incense curling, music low, a sense of quiet after the bustle. It reminded me that the Mela isn’t just about celebration—it also makes room for stillness.
Near the rose garden, as evening settled and shadows lengthened, I paused with others simply listening. Not to anything specific—just to the gathering itself, the collective hum. It felt quietly extraordinary, that sense of shared presence.
I won’t attempt to catalogue every performance or every stall. That would miss the point. What I will say is this: Belfast Mela 2025, once again, reminded me that togetherness is not an abstract ideal—it is something you can stand inside of, feel with all your senses. Still, as it continues to grow, I hope the Mela leans further into its own promise, letting food and flavour become as central a language of culture as music and dance already are.
And if you haven’t yet been, go next year. You won’t just see the world—you’ll taste it too, if the organisers are bold enough to let that happen.
Links:
- Belfast Maritime Festival 2025
- Belfast Mela
- BBC Belfast Mela Begins
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