I thought I’d begin a series on ‘Hidden Newry’. Our first item couldn’t be more conspicuous! I guess I’ve passed by the house below ten thousand times without paying the slightest bit of attention. You must say where it is. First, a story!
John McCullagh
18th Century Famine
Scientists recently identified as the greatest danger to Ireland, Britain and Northern Europe, the possibility of the failure of the massive under-ocean current, the North Atlantic conveyor, which – by diverting the ‘Gulf Stream’ to our direction – gives us a much warmer climate than our latitude would normally merit. Ironically, in this part of the world, the first, most-dramatic and irreversible effect of rampant global warming will be much lower temperatures overall.
Nature Photos on Slides
You get what you want on Newry Journal. And it’s obvious you can’t get enough photos. Hope you like this new selection by my son’s girlfriend, Katharine Beaven, of Orkney in Scotland.
Christmas Farewell (’06)
As my mate Brendan Milligan – and other returned migrants – once again embark on the Belfast Ferry (pictured), we offer you one last local glimpse of Christmas 2005.
Montgomery & Hamilton
There had been considerable cross-Channel migration – from
Kings on the Roof
I live within waving distance of a railway line; but, although I have kept a long and patient vigil, I have never once seen passengers fighting on the roof of a train – even a stationary one.
O’Neills to Squire Jackson
At the time of the Ulster Plantation, immediately following the Flight of the Earls, Owen MacHugh O’Neill, son of Hugh M
But it was not to be an easy or long-lasting settlement. The fragile relationship between the conquering English and the ‘co-operating’ leaders of the old Gaelic Order was repeatedly riven over the course of the seventeenth century. Remaining clan leaders, including the O’Neills of Glasdrumman and the descendants of Oghie
Poet’s Trail Walk
We all need to get out now and walk off all that excess food we consumed over the holiday. I suggest the Poet’s Trail around Mullaghbawn.
Sky failure
They talk like automatons, persist like politicians in their given line of chat, regardless of your lack of interest, and withhold their own phone number and even name.
Yet they expect you to stop everything and to humour them on the phone. I did, a while.