A Stroll through Limavady

We may as well begin our little stroll at the top of Main Street, just outside the former cattle market. This extensive and potentially lucrative plot was once a very contentious piece of real estate and the stage of a drama involving the council, hard-nosed property developers, at least one nice old lady and even national television. All has calmed down and the former Market Yard is now one of those lingering building sites patiently waiting for something to happen. However, we are keen to get going so we won't hang about.

As we look down Main Street we notice Benevenagh in the distance - a calm and noble mountain. Our more immediate surroundings are dominated by what looks like a driver's free-for-all. Even though the place is coming down with double yellow lines and various other kinds of traffic symbolisms, drivers abandon their cars anywhere and anyhow they like. Those with a perverse streak of humour park so that their vehicle blocks one or even two empty legal parking spaces, which forces the next driver to triple park just beside a delivery lorry that is blocking the rest of the street. Drivers actually on the move - mainly the ones looking for an empty parking space - navigate around all these obstacles in a slalom-like manner with great speed and nonchalance. Nobody seems to mind the chaos - not even the police - and most drivers are polite and good natured, unless, of course, you complain about their parking!

The first interesting building we pass is our rather nice little Court House. Notice the remarkable pagoda tower - unique in the town. The ugly little security abode at the front left is a recent addition with a hopefully short life span. It is my personal opinion that its architect also designed the Northern Bank, Brian Brown's prize winning "who needs windows?" office block and that strange bus terminal, which we will meet later on. There are moves afoot to close the court house for courting and the solicitors in town - preferring Limavady to the big place down the road - are very angry about all this. We of course, couldn't care less and move on.

Further down the road we come across the strange erection on the left.

Is it a building? Is it a monument? Is it a ruin? Who can say!

It is in fact what is left of the old Alexander Memorial Hall - front elevation. This used to be the town hall but - as is quite evident - the actual hall has been removed.

Because the council forgot to ask for the proper planning permission the place can't be rebuilt any time soon. In the meantime we are left with this rather dangerous looking monument. After the shock of looking at the only hall-less hall in town we are obviously ready for a drink.

As luck would have it, we find ourselves outside one of the many public houses which grace the streets of this thirsty little town. It is called the "Roebuck Inn" for reasons best known to its owner. As can be clearly seen, it is not the place to be when one is feeling blue! The Roebuck is not only popular with young people, who tend to visit it in the evenings or after exams, but also with some of the lecturers of the nearby Technical College, who go there for their lunch and stagger back to work at two o'clock in the afternoon in a very great hurry, closely followed by their young victims.

We enter the establishment, have a couple of drinks and watch them run.

Much strengthened we stroll on and cross the street opposite a strange, dry fountain. It was donated to the town in 1909 and has only recently been returned to this, its original site. The structure used to grace the entrance to the Market Yard we have just left behind. When they moved it, the builders unfortunately forgot to install either running water or a drain, thereby converting a useful civic amenity into a rather peculiar ornament. This is what it says:

All this wondering and walking is very exhausting and we are seriously thirsty again. I suggest that we have another couple of quick ones in the bar of the "Alexander Arms Hotel" a few steps down the road. It is in much better working order than this honourable, but rather murky looking well.

Main Street is suddenly very busy: there must be a parade in town! Let's run for the bar before everyone else gets there. Some time later we leave the place suitably refreshed and admire the scenery.

More or less opposite the hotel we spot the house where Jane Ross once lived. 'twas she who pinched that famous melody "The Londonderry Air" i.e. "Oh Danny Boy" from a blind fiddler called Jimmy McCurry.

Enough of these philosophical reflections. Let us continue down Main Street. Various shops line both sides of the road. The right hand side of Main Street is changing so rapidly that we don't show a picture.

There seems to be lots of money about and the town is being regenerated at an alarming rate.

It is a somewhat sobering moment when you realise that the barrel points straight at the town!

The monument behind the artillery piece commemorates the victims of a famine - not the famine but an earlier one. Unfortunately the inscription can't be read any more and nobody thought to copy it when it could still be read.

Recently the place has been converted into a rather nice park where people can walk themselves and their dogs and where children play and enjoy the rainy weather.

From here you can walk all the way up to the Roe Valley Hospital; which, by a strange coincidence, is exactly what we are going to do. The task is a rather pleasant one and our destination is hardly ten minutes away, unless we meet someone we know, in which case all depends on the length of the obligatory conversation and on for how long the participants feel that they have to complain about the weather.

Here is the former hospital. A splendid old place. It was built 150 years ago and is unique in all of Ireland as the best preserved example of a former workhouse. Workhouses were an early solution to the problem of the urban poor. Nowadays one would call such a place a forced labour camp. Luckily morals changed with time and the place was long ago converted into a rather nice and friendly cottage hospital.

Now, Limavady drivers do not appreciate roundabouts. They tend to aim for the centre and assume that no one else has a right of way or indeed any rights at all. There are some traffic signs that say: "Give Way", but most people ignore this as an unwarranted infringement of their civil liberties. The result of all this determined traffic confusion can be quite astonishing and is well worth a visit on its own!

We move on, avoid all that traffic and turn right into Connell Street. Here you can admire the police station, the council offices, the library and Limavady's only bronze statue. To find out more about the surprised looking gentleman in question, you have to study the History of Limavady. If you haven't the time: his name was Massey, and he emigrated to New Zealand some time ago where he became prime minister, no less. Strangers in town can get tourist information at the council offices. Should you call outside office hours, not all is lost because there is a computerised information centre built into the front entrance.

The library is a very friendly and welcoming place and well worth a visit to while away a rainy day - i.e. about seventy five percent of the year. Some people in Limavady are very well read!

We continue our little stroll across one of the two central car parks. It isn't much to look at, like most car parks, but is in a class of its own.

Notice that even in a carpark with empty spaces there is an illegally parked lorry quite happily enjoying the splendid afternoon sun. This is quite normal behaviour and is explained here. We just walk across, nearly get knocked down by some skate boarding kids and continue our walk along a connecting passage.

On a nice sunny day you may even have the chance to get your war paint renewed. The council provides this public service every once in a while and it is very popular with the younger people in town.

We watch in amazement, snatch one of the drinks and walk on.

Recently the council decided to give it the new name and put in some benches and a few small trees. Many new businesses have opened here but basically the place is still a rather ugly carpark.

We haven't the energy to do any of these things and decide to return to Market Street. This is easier said than done. Limavady shopkeepers know that advertising pays and hence they are very keen practicioners of the art. Unfortunately this tends to block the way for us poor pedestrians. We manage to squeeze through at the third attempt though.

If one has nothing much to talk about one can always engage in a spirited discussion about the meaning of the watery new monument that has been erected here. It is somehow connected with blind Jimmy and his famous tune because "from glen to glen and down the mountain side" is inscribed on the one side of the monument that can't be easily seen by pedestrians.

A scientific study would quickly establish that anything on wheels in the town of Limavady must drive through Catherine Street at least twice a day.

However, we are past caring. All this monumental walking has made us very thirsty and we enter this haven of rest for some much needed refreshment.

Nowadays fire alarms are raised via radio. In days gone by a loud siren used to call Limavady's finest to duty. It is a pity that this has stopped, as it was fun to see the firemen break all the few remaining traffic rules as they made their hurried way to the fire station.

The first man to get there gets a bonus, hence the rush (in case you thought they hurried because of the fire). A repeated siren would also give one a good idea as to how many attempts it took to finally extinguish the blaze!

because here our attention is instantly occupied with the Catherine Street bus stop.

This has been given a face-lift ...... and what a lift. It is without a doubt the most magnificent and elaborate bus-stop in the whole of Northern Ireland, boasting six huge twin street lamps, ten hanging flower baskets, an old fashioned looking shelter, three benches and a small garden.

Another problem with bus-stops in Limavady is that there generally is no room for the bus to stop, as the illegally parked cars take up all the available space. A solution to this problem has never been found.

We walk a little faster, past the former Electricity Board offices - now neglected, and the Masonic Hall - recently renovated, and find ourselves at the starting point of our walk, the nice old court house.

We rest on the strange double bench outside the court house and take a well deserved breather.

Those who still feel fresh enough and are possessed by a restless curiosity as well as a clear head and a good pair of legs, may want to join me on a stroll along the banks of the river Roe. Just use the link or click on any of the pictures below. (But be warned, the only drink you get there is likely to consist entirely of water.)