TOURISM

Ulster for holidays?

JOHN D. STEWART

Reports on cancelled bookings for holidays in troubled Ulster will displease the tourist trade but should delight those who have the good sense to pursue their plans. There never has been much danger of overcrowding, ex- cept in a few merry resorts like Bangor and Portrush. This summer we can honestly offer even more of our special spaciousness.

If and when Ireland becomes a mecca for the masses, when we can no longer honestly boast of quiet roads and 'a beach to one- self', we shall have lost one of our best assets.

Let me, a journalist resident in Belfast and touring Ulster constantly, deal first with the element of unrest and alleged danger in the Province. Street rioting is—as you would expect—tightly restricted to the slums, to certain well defined city districts of neglected Victorian housing where no visitor—except a sociologist—would wish to go. The re- spectable citizens would no more think of stoning each other than would their counter- parts in any city in Britain. Outside our two cities minor disturbances such as 'sit-downs' and arrests may occur where there are well advertised demonstrations. Such events are not general or widespread, and so they are very easily avoided. The adventurous visitor, curious to observe such local phenomena as 'militant Protestants' (an extinct species in Britain since the Gordon Riots of 1780) or joyful parades of Conservative workmen in fancy dress, may do so at his own slight risk. The Royal Ulster Constabulary is now disarmed and reformed and properly con- ducted as a British police service. It may be relied upon for courtesy and good advice. Where the army is seen to be apprehensive or active the tourist-should beat a graceful retreat.

By a form of poetic justice, the tourist regions of Ulster lie far apart from the troubled regions. The ,seventeenth century 'planters' were given the best farmlands— plains and valleys. The 'natives' were driven to the seacoasts, to the mountains and glens, and to the marshy lands of Fermanagh and Lough Neagh. The Glens of Antrim, the Causeway Coast, the Mournes, the Sperrins and the Fermanagh Lakeland—all districts difficult to farm and rich in natural beauty— are peopled almost exclusively by the real, original Irish, with all their charm, kindli- ness, and generosity. There is no social rancour or strife to be found iri them. The worst trouble you might meet in such places would be a piece of burnt toast or a garage proprietor 'gone fishing. . . Fishing . . . I have the usual angler's instinct to be secretive. On second thoughts, I can well afford to he generous, for all the waters of Northern Ireland teem with fish and there are not enough native anglers to deplete them. For detailed locations, pros- Peas and arrangements HM Stationery Office has published two good little guides, obtainable at any bookshop. One deals with salmon, trout and sea trout, the other with our long-neglected coarse fishing. With superior fish so readily available the Irish never bothered much with pike, perch and bream, and it is only since the war that the

English, Dutch and French anglers dis- covered our riches in these species. Pike of 50 lb, perch of 4 lb, and bream of 10 lb are on offer in Lough Erne—to the right man, of course, with prizes pro rata for beginners. As for trout, there are legendary unique breeds, such as `dollaghan' and 'gil- laroo' which have to be seen to he believed.

Golf . . . not my game, but I am well convinced that Ulster has some of the best courses in the British Isles—at Nowastle, Portrush and near Bangor. Less professional but more charming are the little local links.

like the one at Cushendall, a wide clearing in the trees where you drive the ball hack and forth across a tinkling burn. The price of golf in Ulster is surprisingly cheap and the welcome is assured. At some_places the 'locals' hold their hand in summer to leave more room for their guests—and greater love. they tell me, hath no golfer than this. . . .

Boating . . . Lough Erne and Strangford Lough. on fresh, one salt, both of enormous scope and full of intriguing islands, are surrounded by scenery which makes the Norfolk Broads seem rather dull. Lough Neagh, the largest of lakes, is not so scenic. There are yacht clubs set in little coastal harbours all around.

Touring ... well, it is true that the roads are quiet. Off-peak on our central motorway you will meet little more than jackdaws. There are fine highways everywhere. The little roads proliferate like twigs on a tree— perhaps because land holdings were always small. Every tiny lane is worth a try, for even if you finish up in someone's farmyard you are sure to be made welcome.

Ulster's beaches are outstanding. Magilli- gan Strand up in the north-west offers seven miles of golden sands in one unbroken sweep. Newcastle has wide beaches too. with the Mourne Mountains proverbially sweep- ing down to meet them. There are smaller beaches everywhere, and—except in very hot weather—no one bothers them very much. The sea is too cold. in my Mediterranean opinion. Local councils are beginning to agree with me and town after town opens indoor, heated swimming pools.

Ulster is the most historic part of all Ireland—and that is saying something. It is. in its way, the most Irish part or Ireland— the last to be occupied, tamed and civilised. it is studded with castles, from Norman times onwards. with ruined abbeys, ancient churches, and far older remains of pre- history. If you visit Downpatrick. for in- stance, in search of St Patrick's grave, you might take in a score more archaeological monuments around that little town. People with a special purpose, be it archaeology, botany, ornithology, geology or any such subject. are among our most devoted visitors.

I could rave about racing or boast about bowls and tennis. The basic point is that the grass is greener, the turf more springy, the atmosphere informal, the people friendly rather than competitive. Such new exotic sports as water-skiing and submarine explor- ation have taken strong root, and there is some pony trekking and a little safe and easy rock-climbing in the Mournes. The stately home—and garden—business is well in hand. As for hikers and ramblers and walkers, there is nowhere they cannot go— all we ask is 'Close the gates behind you.'

Ulster has hotels of all kinds and classes, boarding houses, caravan and camp sites. and farmhouse accommodation. So far, there is no need to book fussily, long in advance. You can come to a sudden decision, rise and come, and he sure that you will not he troubled much in finding a place to suit your pocket and tastes. It is a small country.

remember, about one hundred miles square. with villages and towns averaging ten miles or less apart. You could see it all in one week—or you could take several years... .

As for the people . . well, in Carnlough in the Glens I saw a good man lie down on his back to paint the underside of a wheel- barrow, and he gave me four good reasons for this exercise. In a big Belfast hotel I saw a man drop an Irish whiskey on the floor, and the barmaid rushed out to commiserate and to give him a replacement for nothing. cryone you meet has a yarn to tell. Pro- fessor Estyn Evans, our greatest folklore expert, met an old man in the shadow of a Danish fort. 'Who built that?' the professor asked. 'The Danes,' said the old man promptly. 'How do you know?' I know,' said the old man. 'because my grandfather seen them at it.' His grandfather, yes—hut twelve hundred years and forty generations removed. Word of mouth in Ulster is para- mount—and permanent.

I could sum the people up in one phrase —they would rather have your thanks than your money. They want to please you, to see you happy. So long as they do not 'make drastic losses they can wait all their lives for riches, 'Live, horse.' they say. 'and you'll get grass. . . Well-run, well-staffed hotels may take a more efficient view of the tourist industry, but their prices are probably a little less than the same service would cost in Britain.

I have not described Ulster's scenery. It is so vastly varied that no short description could serve. Study the map and choose your environment—mountain, valley, plain, forest. moor, wild strand or formal garden. For the few precious summer months, at least.

it is all beautiful—well-wooded, green and spangled with wild flowers. The rain comes and goes even in high summer, but you can see it coming in the great wide skyscape, and take shelter under the nearest hush.

That is the little price we pay for streams which never cease to chatter along and for the greenest grass in the world.

It may well be to the visitor's advantage that Northern Ireland was a slow starter in the tourist race. 1 he government was pre- occupied with manufacturing industry as a potential wcalthmaker. The visitors kept on coming, however, and insisting, and the Tourist Board grew in strength from year to year. Since the war, with paid holidays and a larger number of affluent travellers, Ulster's tourist industry has gone ahead dramatically. There is a very strong chal- lenge from south of our Border, where tourism is the second richest industry in the country. In Ulster it lies in sixth place already with a total annual income touching £25 million. In 1969—not surprisingly—there was a set-back which cost us £4 million in spite of a large contribution from journalists from as far away as Japan! Last year, this year and every year. we go on ploughing in generous hotel grants and encouraging the improvement of farmhouses with tourist accommodation. That brief respite has made Ulster all the better prepared to greet you and treat you well when you come.

You will conic, sooner or later. The distance to Ireland is short: the call is quiet and persistent. The best ambassadors we have—and we never doubt them—are those of you who have been here and spread the good tidings by word of mouth. Ulster is. in many ways. Ireland at its best.