Latest news with #FermanaghTime
Sydney Morning Herald
28-05-2025
- Sydney Morning Herald
No tropical beaches, but this island is still a paradise
We have a habit of associating islands with sultry lagoons, sand and bright colour. Even the medieval Irish illuminated bibles with islands of palm trees and parrots. When they looked out their windows, however, they saw monochrome islands grazed by damp cows, and clouds lumbering across low horizons to tangle themselves in monastery towers. Today we escape to tropical islands for sun and heedless holidays. The monks were escaping troublesome vikings and the devil's temptations, and looked for spiritual contemplation. If that sounds dull, you'd be wrong. The place they chose is one of Ireland's loveliest spots, yet hidden away from marauding tourists. Enniskillen has a high street fine enough for a Jane Austen movie set. Banks and churches culminate in a Renaissance-style town hall, and plaques recount where old barracks and breweries once stood. In-the-know locals come here for good food, fine pubs, country rambles, and boating and fishing. Enniskillen is the largest town (population 18,500) in Fermanagh, a county tucked into the south-west corner of Northern Ireland. It's lightly populated, rural, verdant and unconcerned with modern urgency – Fermanagh Time is the equivalent of Spain's manana – although it occasionally bursts out in golf resorts and craft distilleries. Although far inland, Enniskillen's original core sits on an island as its Gaelic name indicates: Inis Ceithleann or Cethlenn's Island. This being Ireland, Cethlenn was predictably an ancient warrior woman who came to an unfortunate end in an incomprehensible feud. Irish mythology and history are grim yet wonderfully entertaining when related by garrulous John Lomasney, tour manager on my Collette country-intensive escorted journey in Ireland. His anecdotes range from the schoolboy antics of Oscar Wilde, who studied in Enniskillen, to the shenanigans of the medieval Mag Uidhir or Maguire clan. Enniskillen Castle was the Maguire seat and controlled the choke point between Lower and Upper Lough Erne. In a Europe of twee castles this is the real deal: grim and solid, although its twin-towered watergate makes for a pretty backdrop for passing boaters.
The Age
28-05-2025
- The Age
No tropical beaches, but this island is still a paradise
We have a habit of associating islands with sultry lagoons, sand and bright colour. Even the medieval Irish illuminated bibles with islands of palm trees and parrots. When they looked out their windows, however, they saw monochrome islands grazed by damp cows, and clouds lumbering across low horizons to tangle themselves in monastery towers. Today we escape to tropical islands for sun and heedless holidays. The monks were escaping troublesome vikings and the devil's temptations, and looked for spiritual contemplation. If that sounds dull, you'd be wrong. The place they chose is one of Ireland's loveliest spots, yet hidden away from marauding tourists. Enniskillen has a high street fine enough for a Jane Austen movie set. Banks and churches culminate in a Renaissance-style town hall, and plaques recount where old barracks and breweries once stood. In-the-know locals come here for good food, fine pubs, country rambles, and boating and fishing. Enniskillen is the largest town (population 18,500) in Fermanagh, a county tucked into the south-west corner of Northern Ireland. It's lightly populated, rural, verdant and unconcerned with modern urgency – Fermanagh Time is the equivalent of Spain's manana – although it occasionally bursts out in golf resorts and craft distilleries. Although far inland, Enniskillen's original core sits on an island as its Gaelic name indicates: Inis Ceithleann or Cethlenn's Island. This being Ireland, Cethlenn was predictably an ancient warrior woman who came to an unfortunate end in an incomprehensible feud. Irish mythology and history are grim yet wonderfully entertaining when related by garrulous John Lomasney, tour manager on my Collette country-intensive escorted journey in Ireland. His anecdotes range from the schoolboy antics of Oscar Wilde, who studied in Enniskillen, to the shenanigans of the medieval Mag Uidhir or Maguire clan. Enniskillen Castle was the Maguire seat and controlled the choke point between Lower and Upper Lough Erne. In a Europe of twee castles this is the real deal: grim and solid, although its twin-towered watergate makes for a pretty backdrop for passing boaters.
