The last living link with the Fermanagh Gaeltacht

Paddy Flanagan – born February 23^rd 1913, died November 27^th 2013

Paddy Flanagan, who has died in his 101^st year, was the last known link with the Fermanagh Gaeltacht. In every way he was steeped in the traditions of his native West Fermanagh. As a skilled fiddler and accordion player, he was a custodian of its music.

Patrick (Paddy) Flanagan was born in the townland of Scribbagh in February 1913. Scribbagh is in the Cashel area, over 20 miles west of Enniskillen. He was the youngest of five children to Michael Flanagan, a small farmer and road contractor, and his wife Bridget (née Duffy).

Both parents were Irish speakers. His maternal grandmother, Margaret Duffy, lived in a nearby townland, and was known for the richness of her Irish. When he was small, both English and Irish were spoken in his home. He said that, by three or four, he knew more Irish than he ever subsequently learnt. The nearest town was Kiltyclogher in Leitrim, two miles away. There, Irish was regularly heard on fair days.

His home area was one of the Gaeltachtaí stranded in the Northern state after Partition: along with Aghayaran in Tyrone; the Sperrins spanning the Tyrone-Derry Border; the Glens of Antrim and Rathlin Island in Antrim; and a chunk of South Armagh.

All these Gaeltachtaí went into catastrophic decline in the hostile political and social atmosphere of the new Northern state. Flanagan remembered his community ceasing to use Irish in the early 1920s.

He received his education at Cashel Primary School. Afterwards he worked on the family farm till, in his twenties, he moved to Garrison, also in West Fermanagh, and bought another farm. As well as being a farmer he was a musician, who often played at house dances. He was one of those who kept the Fermanagh musical style alive through traditional music’s lean years of the 1940s and 1950s,

He enjoyed playing Gaelic football for teams in Fermanagh and Leitrim till he was 45. Those were times when registration of players was relaxed. He was known to play a match in the afternoon, then cycle to another parish to play another match on another team – sometimes under another name.

Flanagan attributed his longevity to being a lifelong non-smoker and teetotaller. However, advancing age led him to decide to stop driving at 99.

 (This obituary was first published in the Irish Times on December 7th, 2013)

Tyrone woman Leonne Ní Loinsigh Leonne  develops Irish in South Derry

le hAnton Mac Cába

Tá An Carn i ndeisceart Doire ina thionsnamh Gaeilge iontach dúshlánach. Is seo an t-aon pobal taobh amuigh den Ghaeltacht mar a bhfuil níos mó páistí ag fáil bundoideachais trí Gaeilge ná trí Béarla – 112 ag fáil oideachais trí Gaeilge, trí scór trí Béarla.

Tá An Carn suite i mbaile fearann Tír Cathain, cúpla míle siar ó thuaidh ó bhaile Mhachaire Rátha. Má théann tú míle síos taobh-bóthar, tá tú ar an bhealach mór idir Béal Feirste agus Doire. Is ceantar seo mar ar mhair an Ghaeilge isteach sa 20ú Céad. Anois, tá an Ghaeilge mar dhlúth-chuid d’obair forbartha phobail sa cheantar.

Tá Leonne Ní Loinsigh ag croí-lár an tionscnaimh, í ina Oifigeach Forbartha Gaeilge le leath-dosaen bliain. Bhí an tionscnamh ann roimpi, ach í iontach tógtha leis. Ba scór bliain ó shoin a cuireadh tús leis. Ba thréimhse sin mar a raibh meath ar an cheantar. Cuireadh An Carn ar bun leis an phobal a fhorbairt: ach, an mhuintir a rinne, thuig siad go raibh tábhacht leis an ghné cultúrtha.

Is léir gur éirigh go maith leo, nó thug Leonne mé ar thuras timpeall an tsuímh. Tá dhá foirgneamh fairsingeacha ag An Carn féin: ansin an bhunscoil: tá dhá theach féin-fhreastal ann do chuairteoirí. Díreach trasna an bhóthair, tá an naíscoil, maraon le feirm thar 200 acra – gur tearmann dúlra é.

Ba foirgneamh dhá stór ceann acu, an céad uair go raibh mé ann cúpla bliain ó shoin: cuireadh an tríú stór leis ó shoin. Is sa tríú stór sin atá oifig Leonne. Tá níos mó spáis ann do ranganna oíche, idir Gaeilge, ceoil, damhsa, pilate agus eile. Thíos ar léibhéal na talún, tá an siopa – mar a bhfuil oifig an phoist an cheantair. Is cuid de thionscadal gheilleagair shóisialta an siopa, achan sórt nó déanta nó deartha in Éirinn. I measc na n-áiseanna atá ar a chúl, tá leabharlann pobail mar a bhfuil an-chuid leabhair Gaeilge “do foghlaimeoirí, do chainteoirí líofa, chomh maith le do pháistí.”

Is sa bhfoirgneamh eile a thagann an Club Óige lena chéile. Tá seo dá fhorbairt mar aonad ealaíne. Thuas staighre, tá amharclann, agus suíocháin ann do thart ar 200 más gá. Tá stiudeó raidió le forbairt ann, nó fuair An Carn an ceadúnas do raidió pobail an cheantair. Beidh ‘Radio G’ dá chraoladh go dátheangach ón bhfoirgneamh. Leis, tá seomra ealaíne, do dhealbhadóireacht agus mar sin, agus seomra il-mheán.

“An rud atá ar shiúil again ná imeachtaí a chur ar shiúil sa chomhphobal chun tacú leis an chóras Ghaeloideachas atá ar shiúil,” ar sise. “Táimid ag éirí freastal a dhéanamh ar gach léibhéal Gaeilgeora. Na páistí atá ag freastal ar an bhunscoil, táimid ag éirí imeachtaí a chur ar shiúil dóibh lasmuigh den rang, le go mbeadh siad ábalta a gcuid Gaeilge a úsáid, seans acu teacht le céile ar bhonn sóisialta agus caidreamh a fhorbairt. Ar ndóigh, táimid i gcomórtas leis an oiread sin rudaí – cúrsaí teilifíse, an oiread sin rudaí atá ar fáil do pháistí anois tríd an Bhéarla. Mar sin, tá sé tábhachtach an rud atá ar fáil tríd an Ghaeilge go mbeadh sé chomh tarraingteach, go mbeadh sé chomh maith nó níos fearr ná na seirbhísí atá ar fáil tríd an Bhéarla.”

Déanann An Carn a dhícheall freastal a dhéanamh ar riachtanaisí déagóirí chomh maith. “Na céad daoine a tháinig tríd an córas Gaeloideachais, tá siad againn go fóill, agus táimid ag cur oiliúint orthu le go mbeadh siad mar cinnirí ag an chéad glúin eile. Eiseamlairí atá iontu.” Chuaigh an mhuintir seo roinnt bealaí, ó thaobh staidéar agus slí beatha dhe. Dar le Leonne go bhfuil rud a cheanglaíonn lena gcéile iad:  “Na daoine seo, tá siad sásta teacht arais agus tacú le saol na Gaeilge. Tuigeann siad an tábhacht atá le pobal Gaeilge labhartha a chothú, agus tá siad ag éirí bheith páirteach ansin.” Déanann An Carn a dhícheall cuidiú leis an mhuintir óg seo a líon scileanna agus is féidir a fhoghlaim.

I measc na scileanna a múineadh, bhí curachadóireacht. Fágann sin go bhfuil siad ábalta dul amach ar bháid. Is léir gur éirigh go maith leis an chúrsa sin, nó thug Leonne féin faoi. Ba mhaith léi bheith ábalta Duais an Uachtaráin a chur ar fáil.

Míbhuntáiste atá ag an Charn ná nach bhfuil, go dtí seo, meánscoil Gaeilge sa cheantar – cé go bhfuil pleananna ann le ceann a bhunú. “Táimid ag éirí an bearna sin a líonadh agus imeachtaí a chur ar fáil do dhéagóirí,” ar sise. “In ionad Club Óige bheith ann do na déagóirí, thug muid Cumann Eachtraí air. Táimid ag éirí níos mó rudaí a chur ar fáil, rudaí níos tarraingtí, níos dúshlánaí, rudaí nach féidir leo a dhéanamh sa bhaile mór. Is maith leis na déagóirí dul ar na turasanna.”

Tá sé tábhachtach go bhfuil scileanna dá dteagasc don mhuintir óg. Fágann sin seans acu postanna a fháil ag An Carn, nó a leithéidí de thionscnamh in áit éigean eile.

Bíonn, ar ndóigh, cuid mhaith imeachtaí ar an Charn atá dírithe ar an phobal i gcoitinne sa cheantar, agus ní ar lucht na Gaeilge amháin.

“Táimid ag éirí an Ghaeilge a normalú sa mhór-cheantar seo,” ar sise. “Is dócha gur sin an príomh-sprioc atá againn. Beidh daoine ann go deo, agus ní bheidh suim dá laghad acu Gaeilge a fhoghlaim, ach táimid ag éirí go mbeadh siad báúil don teanga.”

Cinnte, tá An Carn ábalta daoine a thabhairt isteach sa Ghaeilge. Sampla maith ná lanúin as Devon, a d’aistrigh isteach sa cheantar. Tá siad anois ag foghlaim Gaeilge, agus ag obair leis an tionscadal ar fhorbairt cúrsaí dúlra.

Ní de bhunadh an cheantair ó dhúchas do Leonne féin. Is as an Ómaigh di. Thaitin an Ghaeilge go mór léi mar ábhar agus í ar Chlochar Loreto, agus í ag smaointiú ag an am “ba mhaith liom an Ghaeilge bheith mar slí beatha agam.” Níorbh eol dí arbh fhéidireacht sin “ach bhí mé ar an scoil nuair a bunaíodh TG4, agus b’ionsparaid mór sin.” D’fhág sin fios aici go dtiocfadh léi níos mó ná múinteoireacht a dhéanamh leis an Ghaeilge. Ní raibh Gaeilge sa teaghlach, ach cuimhne ag a seanmháthair ar chomharsan bheith ag caint Gaeilge agus í ag fás aníos. Bhí Leonne den bharúil gur sin áit éigean i nGaeltacht Dhún na nGall – gur thuig sí gur ceithre nó cúig mhíle taobh amuigh den Ómaigh a tharla.

Tar éis na scoile, chaith sí tamall ina cúntóir ranga sa tsruth Gaeilge i mbunscoil an Ghoirtín: “Eispearachas iontach a bhí ann, ag amharc ar na páistí óga seo ag foghlaim Gaeilge. Bhí easpa muiníne agam as mo chuid Gaeilge. Chuidigh an áit sin liom go mór, nó bhí mé sáite sa teanga.” Bhí uirthi an Ghaeilge “ ar achan uile rud” a fhoghlaim. Leis an mhéadú muiníne, thug sí faoin chéim sa Ghaeilge go páirt-aimseartha le Coláiste Mhic Aoidh. Agus muinín aici as a cuid Gaeilge, chuir sí isteach ar phost faoin Ciste Craoltóireachta Gaeilge, rud a fuair. Chaith sí tamall ag obair leis an stáisiún teilifíse Channel 9 i nDoire, sealanna le comhlachtaí léiriúchain.

Tharla ansin go bhfaca sí an post ar an Charn, gurb ann atá súil aici fanacht tamaill eile, nó cuid mhór le forbairt ann ar fad.

 First published, An tUltach, Samhain 2013

For all the heat generated by the subject, the first scholarly examination of the Irish Language's interaction with Republican politics.

 

le hAnton Mac Cába

Tá cuid mhór cainte – agus conspóide – faoi ról poblachtach ó thuaidh i gcúrsaí Gaeilge. Ainneoin na teasa ar fad a gineadh, is beag solais a caitheadh air – go dtí gur tháinig leabhar Fheargail Mhic Ionnrachtaigh ‘Language, Resistance and Revival: Republican Prisoners and the Irish language in the North of Ireland’.

Ag labhairt leis ar an fón, is léir go bhfuil gafa leis an ábhar. B’obair é, cinnte, ach obair gur bhain sé an-sult as.

Cuireann Feargal síos air féin mar “déantús pearsanta de chuid na hAthbheochána.” Is as ceantar na Carraige Báine in iarthar Bhéil Feirste dó. Bhí cáil forleathan ar a athair, Terry Enright (nach maireann), mar gníomhaí pobail. “Bhí m’athair i géibheann mar imthreorannach, agus d’fhoghlaim sé Gaeilge ann,” arsa Feargal. B’shin ag tús na 70idí.

“Tá mé ar an ghasúr is óige de ceathrar,” arsa Feargal. “Bhí mé ar ‘The Irish School’ mar a tugadh air (Bunscoil Pobail Feirste). Chuaigh mé ar aghaidh go Meánscoil Feirste. Bhí múinteoirí agam a d’fhoghlaim Gaeilge i ngéibheann, agus a cháiligh mar mhúinteoirí.”

Agus é ina dhalta, bhí streachailt ar shiúil le go mbeadh aitheantas ón Roinn Oideachais ag Meánscoil Feirste (a bhí ar Choláiste Feirste ag an am). Bhí Feargal mar chuid den streachailt sin. Bhí sé ar thoiscearachtaí a bhuail le státseirbhísígh. Bhí iontas air “chomh binbeach, chomh nimhneach agus a bhí.”

Chuaigh sé ón Meánscoil go hOllscoil na Banríona. B’ann d’eascair an leabhar, mar  mhiontráchtas agus Feargal ag gabháil do MA. Ansin, fuair sé deis an taighde a fhorbairt mar chuid de chéim dochtúireachta. “Is sin an leabhar atá anois ag Pluto,” ar seisean. “Ceann de na rudaí a spreag mé ná nach raibh a leithéidí clóite. Nuair a rinne mé iarracht eolas a fháil, fuair mé amach go raibh neamart déanta. Níor luigh sé leis an dioscúrsa ó lucht acadúil, nó ón Stát.” Thóg sé an scéal ó bhéil na ndaoine a bhí páirteach ann. Is maith leis gur as thráchtas ollscoile a rinneadh an leabhar, nó tugann sin aitheantas don saothar.

B’óna shaothar a tháinig conclúid s’aige: “Bhí sé mar chuid den streachailt ag cimí gur fhoghlaim siad Gaeilge. Taobh amuigh bhí athbheochan.”

Bhí cúpla bonn leis seo. Bhí ról lárnach ag an chóilíneachas sa streachailt, agus “bhí an Ghaeilge mar ghléas dícóilínithe. Ní féidir é a thuiscint gan sin.”

Mar chuid dá thaighde, léigh sé faoi táithí tíortha eile. “Áit ar bith a bhfuil cóilíniú, tá an teanga mar chuid den streachailt,” ar seisean.

B’amhlaidh a bhí an Ghaeilge sna príosúin ó thuaidh sna 20idí, na 40idí, agus na 50idí. “Ní raibh sé riamh chomh mór agus a bhí i ndiaidh na stailceanna ocrais,” arsa Feargal. Ní cúrsaí príosúin amháin a ba chúis, nó bhí ról lárnach ag Gaeltacht Bhothair Seoighe. Ba dhream a d’fhoghlaim Gaeilge sna 50idí a bhunaigh “a d’fhoghlaim Gaeilge ó daoine a bhí faoi ghlas na daichidí.”

Tharla beart tábhachtach i 1978, nuair a osclaíodh Bunscoil Phobail Feirste do pháistí nár de bhunadh Gaeltachta Bhóthair Seoighe iad. Go dtí sin, cé go raibh an pobal báúil le Gaeltacht Bhóthair Seoighe “ní raibh sé ina chuid den saol acu.”

Ag an am, bhí na céadta ag foghlaim Gaeilge sna H-Blocanna, agus ag léamh saothair Phádraig Mhic Piaráis, agus faoin na streachailtí i Vítnam, in Angóla agus eile.

Ar an droch-uair, níor gan locht é Gaeilge na H-Blocanna “mar go raibh siad ag brath ar na cuinsí ina raibh siad.” Ní raibh ábhar teagaisc ar fáil, mar sin ba dhoiligh leaganacha a dheimhniú. Sna H-Blocanna “b’íde-eolaí tábhachtach é Bobby Sands, a bhí ag tacú le Gaeltacht Bhóthair Seoighe mar éacht.”

Bhí tionchar ar fhorbairt na Gaeilge sa phríosún ar dhaoine ar an taobh amuigh. “Bhí (na cimí) ag foghlaim Gaeilge faoi choinníollacha millteanacha,” arsa Feargal. “Bhí daoine ag cur ceiste - cad chuige nach mbeadh siadsan (ar an taobh amuigh) ábalta sin a dhéanamh?”

Ar an taobh amuigh, bunaíodh naíscoileann i dtús báire, ansin bunscoileanna. Ní i Béal Feirste amháin a tharla an próiséas. Chuir Feargal agallaimh ar dhaoine i nDoire, an Sráth Bán, agus Fear Manach, faoi cúrsaí ansin.

Mar chuid dá thaighde, chuir sé agallamh ar a athair féin, faoina sheal siúd mar imthreorannaí. Bhí cúrsaí difriúil ag an mhuintir a bhí imthreorannaithe: “Ní raibh aon seasmhacht ann. Bhí daoine dá scaoileadh amach an t-am ar fad. Ar an taobh eile, bhí stádas (polaitiúil) acu. Bhí rudaí eile le déanamh acu.” Leis, bhí go leoir imthreorranach nach raibh bainte le h-eagraíocht ar bith.

Bhí, ar ndóigh, cimí daortha ann sna luath-70idí. Bhí stádas acu sna cásanna. Bhí siad seo faoi ghlas ar feadh tréimhse buan, mar sin “bhí siad ábalta an teanga a chur chun cinn ar bhonn níos buaine.”

Rinne cimí éachtanna roimhe ó thaobh na Gaeilge, ar ndóigh. Bhí an Ghaeilge mar theanga labhartha i gcuid den champa sa Churrach sna 40idí: agus i bpríosún Bhóthair Croimghlinne i mBéal Feirste, thart ar leithéidí Tarlach Ó hÚid agus Moscow Jack Brady.

Sna 70idí, bhí tacaíocht níos foirleithne ag an IRA – agus Gaeltacht ar Bhóthar Seoighe. “Ach go b’é gur tharla, ní bheadh aon streachailt sa Cheis Fhada,” dar le Feargal. Tháinig seo ar fad lena chéile, gur fhág daoine spreagtha faoi cheist na féiniúlachta, an Éireannachais, “ar bhealach nach raibh le cúpla glúin.”

Bhunaigh daoine nach raibh i ngéibheann tógraí Gaeilge eile: an nuachtán Lá (gur Lá Nua níos moille é), Raidió Fáilte, agus an Cultúrlann, ach go háirithe.

Thóg sé tamall maith ar Fheargal an t-eolas ar fad atá sa leabhar a chur lena chéile. Rinne sé na céid agallaimh beagnach 10 bliain ó shoin. Rinne sé an dochtúireacht idir 2005 agus 2009. Tá an leabhar bunaithe ar an tráchtas dochtúireachta.

Cúpla bliain tar éis na dochtúireachta, shocraigh sé ar leabhar a fhoilsiú. Chuir sé lena chéile é, istoíche i ndiaidh a chuid oibre le Forbairt Feirste. Chuaigh sé chuig Pluto, nó gur foilsitheoirí polaitiúla iad, cáil idirnáisiúnta orthu. Beidh daoine ábalta teacht ar an leabhar ar fud an domhain. “Cibé brabach, rachaidh sé chuig Taca, an carthanacht Gaelscoile,” arsa Feargal

Is é buncloch an leabhar ná agallaimh le daoine a bhí san IRA (Sealadach) agus iad faoi ghlas. Níl daoine ó na faicsin Poblachtacha eile bainte leis na bunscoileanna nó naíscoileanna. D’imir daoine sna ‘Sticks’ (IRA Oifigiúil) ról faoi ghlas ó thaobh na Gaeilge sna 70idí, ach bhí lá na Sticks thart nuair a tháinig an borradh faoin Ghaeilge.

Sna 70idí, níor chuir an IRA (Sealadach) mórán suime sa Ghaeilge, agus fiú “bhí naimhdeas ann. Tá miotaseolaíocht ann gur tháinig an brú ón dtaobh amuigh. Tharla sé ó na cimí féin. An streachailt sa Cheis a chuir brú ar an ghluaiseacht. Níor chuir an Ghluaiseacht mórán suime sa Ghaeilge go dtí na stailceanna ocrais.”

Feiceann sé fadbhanna arís. Tá daoine a bhí sa streachailt mar chuid den rialtas. Tá cuid eile ar fad mar chuid den athbheochan ar an taobh amuigh. Mar sin, dar le Feargál go bhfuil an Ghaeilge “neamhspléach ar pháirtithe agus eagraíochtaí polaitiúla, bíodh is nach mbeadh sé neamhspléach ar an pholaitíocht.”

‘Language, Resistance and Revival: Republican Prisoners and the Irish Language in the North of Ireland’ le Feargal Mac Ionnrachtaigh. Pluto Press. Ni luaitear praghas.

Advertising Standards Authority rules against wind farm developer

The Advertising Standards Authority (ASA) has ruled that the company proposing to build a controversial wind farm north of Omagh made wrong claims in a leaflet distributed to local residents at an information evening. The company, Windyriver, is part of the same group as a company the Sunday World exposed in May as claiming the community centre at Broughderg, Co Tyrone, supported a planning application – without the centre’s permission: and attempting to mislead MP Pat Doherty into supporting that application.

The company, Windyfields, trades as ARC NI 3. It has applied for planning permission for the wind farm at Lisnaharney. The ASA has ruled “The ad must not appear again in its current form. We told (the developers) not to make claims for which they did not hold adequate substantiation.”

It ruled that the developer was wrong in:

The claimed ‘540 job years’ to be created. The ASA said “… it was not clear from the report how those figures had been calculated. In the absence of that information, we considered we had not seen adequate substantiation to support the claims and concluded those claims were misleading.”

The claimed contribution of £869,797 to the local economy. The ASA called this “misleading.”

The claimed annual output of 110,376 Megawatts of electricity. The ASA said “the indicative electricity output figure stated in the ad was misleading.” Even if the wind farm’s capacity had been substantiated “the claim should have been phrased conditionally to make clear that the calculation on which it was based was an estimate.”

The claimed 23,733 homes that would be powered. The ASA ruled this was “misleading.”

The claim that Lisnaharney would save "just over 1% of the total UK annual (carbon dioxide emission) reduction target and 12.6% of Northern Irelands [sic] target." The ASA ruled that the real figure would be about 0.6% of Northern Ireland’s emissions, and thus the claim was “misleading.”

Jason Devine of Lisnaharney Residents Group made the complaint to the ASA. Devine said the planners have to take the ruling into consideration. “The claims Advertising Standards has said are wrong are the same as are in documents submitted with the planning application,” Devine said. “I don’t see how the planners can pass this. And, after this, it is very hard to trust anything this company says. I can’t see how any community can trust them.”

The Lisnaharney wind farm has stirred up a storm of objections. The proposed site is just west of famous beauty-spot the Gortin Glens. The turbines are to be 410 feet high, on top of a ridge approximately 1,000 feet high. Objectors include Sport NI, part of the Department of Culture, Arts and Leisure. “The site of this proposed development is one of the premier locations in the area for walking not only for the Sperrins but also throughout Northern Ireland,” wrote Mike McClure of Sport NI.

The directors of Windyfields are Richard Dixon-Ward and Leonard Seelig, with addresses in London, and Harley Geoffrey Potter, with an address in Mashpee, Massachusetts, USA. Renewable Energy International controls Windyfields. Seelig and Potter are the directors of that company. The company gives its address as a basement flat in London. The largest shareholder in Renewable Energy International is REI LLP, which is not registered as a company in the UK.

According to Renewable Energy International’s website, it is “currently open to negotiations on the purchase” of both the Lisnaharney and Windyhill projects. Neither has yet received planning permission. Renewable Energy International has applied to Companies House to be struck off voluntarily as a company.

A spokesperson for Renewable Energy International said they were disappointed by the ASA’s ruling. “Nevertheless, we have complied with the ASA recommendation and removed the material from circulation,” the spokesperson said. “We sincerely hope that the ASA’s intervention at the behest of outside parties does not inhibit the free flow of information to genuinely interested and concerned parties particularly local residents and representatives.”

This is a longer version of a piece published in the Sunday World on September 8th 2013

Darach MacDonald's Tóchar is above all a readable book. It can be read as a whole, in a sitting or two. Equally, as each chapter is self-contained, it can be picked up from time to time.

Tóchar can be read at several levels. In the book, MacDonald describes his walking of 10 ancient pilgrim paths across Ireland. Thus the book is a guide to the various paths. Several of the paths are now little-known, such as An Slí Mór in the Midlands and St Declan's Way in Waterford and Tipperary. MacDonald's book has made me want to walk at least those two.

Tóchar also gives a new perspective on several well-known pilgrimages, presenting up paths that are little known. Croagh Patrick in Mayo is one of Ireland's most popular pilgrimages. MacDonald approaches it from the east, while the ascent from the west is best known. He walks from Ballintubber Abbey, as ancient pilgrims did. Lough Derg in Donegal is another very well-known pilgrimage. MacDonald takes us round the ancient pilgrim path on the south side of the Lough. Some sacred sites it passes pre-date Christianity.

The book reminds us how much of Ireland's heritage is in danger of wilting away. MacDonald contributes to keeping the Irish people in touch with their traditions and roots. Because of their nature, preservation of pilgrim paths - and pilgrimages - is not prioritised.

The book is also a journey round Ireland, covering all provinces. During that journey MacDonals meets a variety of people. Those meetings throw light on the complexities of Irish society.

However, the journey is not just physical but personal. In the journey, MacDonald wrestles with his own spirituality. Born a Catholic, his relationship with that Church has been fragile. The journey gives him a deeper connection with his spirituality. The description of how he makes that connection gets the reader to know him as a person.

Tóchar is published by New Island Books, price £12.99

Sunday was the Bluegrass Festival at the Ulster-American Folk Park, just outside Omagh. The previous Sunday I had attended the Mela, the Indian community gathering in Belfast.

Both were hugely enjoyable. The Mela was a festival of, music, dance,  food and crafts. The Indian community in particular - and Northern Ireland's ethnic minorities in general - showed their pride. Belfast's Botanic Gardens were packed. Northern Ireland is no longer the completely white society it still imagines itself to be.

The Bluegrass Festival was about the music. Like the Mela, the Folk Park was packed.

Both catered for an older demographic than most festivals. At the Mela, there was no alcohol on sale. At the Folk Park, there was a bar: on Sunday, there was no sign of excessive drinking.

Despite there being thousands of people at both events, I felt none of that threat of drink-fuelled violence that lies under the surface so often in Ireland and Britain when large numbers gather.

That violence is a problem. I live close to John Street in Omagh. Two young people died within 100 feet of one another there as a result of drunken violence within seven months. One was on John Street, the other round the corner on the Kevlin Road.

The problem of drink and violence has been building up for years. It is linked to the nature of society. Steps need to be taken over a period of years.

The lesson of the Mela and the Bluegrass is that large numbers can socialise without drunken violence. They thus enjoy themselves far better. Thus this problem can, in some way, be solved.

This is the first post in the blog of Anton McCabe, Omagh-based freelance journalist and writer. It is short: I hope future posts keep to that pattern.

There are two planning applications for wind farms advertised in today's Tyrone Constitution: one near Trillick, one near Castlederg.

Are there just too many wind farms in West Tyrone? The public is becoming increasingly anxious. This morning, I went for a four-mile walk in the countryside on the edge of Omagh. Whichever way I looked, I could see a wind farm. Is that, maybe, just too visually intrusive?