Ciaran’s Peculier [sic] Blog

Belturbet is one of the nicest towns in Ireland. It sits at a spot where the fast0-=flowing Erne seems to be embraced by sylvan

wonder of the countryside. To stand either on the main bridge in the town, or on the old railway bridge further south, is to be overcome by the simultaneous coming together of so many paths, of either land or water. One looks north along the river as it winds its way towards Fermanagh, or south as the fluvial highway leads south towards Putiaghan and Lough Oughter.

 The sense of location is never far away in Belturbet, for it was its strategic location which attracted the Anglo-Normans to build their motte, surmounted by a long-vanished bretesche, on Turbot Island.

 The town’s subsequent history was marked by tragedy, as when its inhabitants were massacred during the Ulster rebellion of 1641, as well as by a degree of riotousness, exemplified by the brief bacchanalian excesses accompanying the reopening of Dickson’s distillery in 1848m an even covered by me in my7 very first Echo of the Past for the Cavan Echo in 2006.

 For centuries Belturbet has been known for an indefinable buzz which has set it ahead of other towns in Cavan. There certainly seems to be a greater community spirit about the place. This is exemplified by projects such as the restoration of the old railway station and a length of the railway line between Straheglin and the railway bridge. When I have walked – or more accurately been pushed – along its length, no matter what the season, I am entranced by the proximity of nature. I also think of how much could have been done with lengths of surviving railway bed throughout the country.

 Belturbet’s liveliness is still reflected in the vigour of the town’s many shops and businesses. I doubt that it is possible to find anywhere a better butcher than Raymond Johnston. In the town’s off-licences one can buy items like authentic Lithuanian wheat beer, Wyborowka vodka and Belgian biere blonde. For such a relatively small town there is a surfeit of fine places to eat, such as The Captain’s Table restaurant in The Harbour, my beloved Rendezvous, Nico’s on the Lawn, and the Seven Horseshoes where the welcome of Francis Cahill and his staff is as warm as the blazing log-fires which burn there throughout the autumn and winter.

 Among those illustrious sons of Belturbet who have carried the lamp of learning far and wide was William Hearn, one of the founders of Australian Political Economy and an early professor at the University of Belturbet. The town’s rich history is often described through the generous scholarship of George Morrissey, truly a gentle giant amongst geniuses.

 The beauty of Belturbet’s surroundings have attracted many visitors over the years, some of whom have settled down there. Their integration has been aided by a genuine friendliness, openness and spirit of community.

 But alas there is a small, unrepresentative clique who are the very antithesis of the qualities I’ve just mentioned. These people are far from welcoming and what’s more they make up their minds to dislike people without ever getting to know them, and then pursue their cowardly jealousies through the spreading of vile rumours without any basis in reality. Happily their nets of shame are so manifestly nasty that they are easily avoided.