The Most Grate Land of Myth and Legend

Pickled forest, fairy trees and mysterious standing stones are just some of the delights of a trip to Northern Ireland, writes Gillian Bell

THERE is something magical about Northern Ireland – a land home to lush green rolling hills and heritage, steeped in myths and legends of fairies. But during the Troubles, its treasures went unnoticed as tourists shunned the Emerald Isle.

More than a decade has passed since the Good Friday Agreement, which led the vast majority of paramilitaries to lay down their arms. There have been sporadic outbreaks since, but the security situation has improved immeasurably and visitors are now coming in their droves.

We flew direct to Belfast from Aberdeen with low-cost carrier FlyBe and drove to our hotel at Strabane, a town which nestles at the foot of the Sperrin Mountains, a stone’s throw from the border with the Irish Republic. The Fir Trees Hotel recently underwent a major revamp that has transformed it into a stylish place to stay.

We were greeted by friendly staff who showed us to a generously sized room with tasteful decor and a large, comfy bed.

After a short rest, we met one of our guides, Martin Bradley, a specialist in geology and ecology, who gave us a short rundown on what we would be doing over the next two days before we headed out for dinner in Strabane.

During the height of the Troubles, the town had the highest unemployment rate in the industrial world. Relics of the conflict remain, including a caged courthouse and republican wall murals, but it is a warm, welcoming town with lively pubs and fine restaurants.

We ate at Oysters, an intimate and inviting award-winning restaurant which serves freshly made, locally sourced food.

The following day, we rose early, and eagerly, because we were due to meet Martin, who was going to teach us how to pan for gold and, we hoped, find our fortune in the rivers of the Sperrins, where companies mine for the mineral. We drove for half-an-hour over steep glens which still bear the scars of 19th-century potato farming, and past ancient monuments, to reach the river.

After a short walk, we arrived at a spot Martin thought would be good for panning. He gave us a quick rundown on what to do and, with that, we got down to business.

Martin assured me there was gold in the sediment at the bottom of my pan. I didn’t have a magnifying glass to hand so I took his word for it. I searched for shiny rocks I had taken a liking to instead which he explained were formed some 500million years ago when the North American and Eurasian plates crashed into each other, creating mountains as high as the Alps.

We walked along the river inspecting the roots of the once enormous mountains before we returned to the car to drive to the desolate Goles valley, which was once home to numerous generations of the same family.

Our final stop for the day was a curious one – a Bronze Age Caledonian pickled forest. Martin said he had come across the roots of a Scots pine while on a walk. Closer inspection revealed many more which were growing on the hill thousands of years ago when Ireland’s climate started getting wetter. A bog developed, both suffocating and preserving the trees by pickling them. They were uncovered when the landowner was digging for peat and will likely remain on the hillside for another 30 years, slowly rotting away.

After that, we returned to the comfort of the Fir Trees for a dinner date with Brendan Gormley, who was to be our guide for the following day’s activities. We were booked to eat at one of the hotel’s restaurants, Martha’s, which serves the best macaroni cheese in the UK – in my opinion.

Archaeologist Brendan, who runs About Ulster with Martin, gave us a rundown on the following day’s itinerary and told us some local legends and stories.

We met Brendan bright and early the next morning in Plumbridge, a small village near Strabane, and set off in his 4×4 to see the area’s archaeological sites. Our first stop was the remains of an ancient outdoor bar where locals gathered to drink poteen hundreds of years ago.

Production of poteen – illegal whiskey of up to 90% proof – began in the early-17th century. By 1700, an estimated 2,000 stills were making two million gallons a year. But production was driven underground when the British Government tried to tax it.

Our next stop was nearby Bodoney Church, where Catholics found to be involved in the production of poteen were excommunicated and buried in the protestant churchyard as punishment.

A small stone with the names of two transgressors sat at the side of the church apart from the main burial ground, which houses the remains of Professor James MacCullagh, a local man who became one of the most significant mathematicians and physicists of the 19th century.

We walked around the graveyard for a while inspecting the old tombstones before we set off to see a legacy from Ireland’s superstitious past.

Fairy trees are those which have grown in places where they ordinarily would not survive, such as in the middle of a field. Farmers do not cut them down out of fear, believing they are home to fairies – and most would not even touch them in case the little people take their revenge by ruining them.

Brendan pointed out that the hawthorn tree in the middle of a 4,000-year-old circular burial cairn surrounded by a stone circle still had its berries from last year, which was a little odd, especially since all of the nearby bushes and trees had none – I checked.

We hopped back in Brendan’s 4×4 and drove a short distance to the next monument. The standing stone, which stood in the middle of a field about 7ft tall, looked innocuous enough. But then Brendan told us the myth about a man who built a house nearby and decided he wanted to move it. As soon as he did it, a stream rerouted, flooding his house. The minute he moved it back, it went back to normal again – or so the legend goes.

After that, we stopped at Beaghmore, a site of seven stone circles discovered by peat cutters in the 1940s, on the way to An Creagan Visitor Centre – one of the few remaining centres in the area that were set up in the 1980s – for a delicious bite to eat.

Our final stop was Ulster American Folk Park, an excellent outdoor museum which tells the story of emigration across the Atlantic during the 18th and 19th centuries. Visitors walk round “Old World” houses – all of which were taken apart brick by brick and rebuilt at the site – on the way to board a “ship” to the New World with settler-style houses.

We drove the short distance to the cosy Mellon Country Hotel, where we checked in and rested before heading out to Grants, in Omagh, for a delicious final meal in the land of legends and fairies before reluctantly leaving for home.

We flew from Aberdeen to Belfast City Airport with FlyBe and drove to the Sperrins in a trusty Fiesta provided by Dan Dooley Car Hire.