Northern Ireland

Legend has it that a millennium ago a seafaring chieftain caught sight of the green shores of Northern Ireland, and offered the land to whichever of his two sons would be first to lay a hand upon it. As the two rivals rowed toward shore in separate boats, one began to draw ahead, whereupon the other drew his sword, cut off his own hand, and hurled it onto the beach—and so, by blood and sacrifice, gained the province. To this day the coat of arms of Northern Ireland bears the severed limb: the celebrated "Red Hand of Ulster."

From this ancient bardic tale to the recent Troubles—lasting from 1969 to 1994—Northern Ireland has had a long and often ferocious history. But all such thoughts vanish in the face of the country's natural beauty, magnificent stately houses, and the warm hospitality of its people. The Six Counties, or Ulster (as Northern Ireland is often called), cover less than 14,245 square km (5,500 square mi). These boundaries contain some of the most unspoiled scenery you could ever hope to find on this earth: the granite Mountains of Mourne; the Giant's Causeway, made of extraordinary volcanic rock; more than 320 km (200 mi) of coastline beaches and hidden coves; and rivers and leaf-sheltered lakes, including Europe's largest freshwater lake, Lough Neagh, that provide fabled fishing grounds. Ancient castles and Palladian-perfect 18th-century houses are as numerous here as almost anywhere else in Europe, and each has its own tale of heroic feats, dastardly deeds, and lovelorn ghosts. Northern Ireland not only houses this heritage within its native stone, but has also given the world perhaps an even greater legacy: its roster of celebrated descendants. Nearly one in six of the more than 4.5 million Irish who journeyed across the Atlantic in search of fortune in the New World came from Ulster, and of this group (and from their family stock), more than a few left their mark in America: Davy Crockett, President Andrew Jackson, General Ulysses S. Grant, President Woodrow Wilson, General Stonewall Jackson, financier Thomas Mellon, merchant J. Paul Getty, writers Edgar Allan Poe and Mark Twain, and astronaut Neil Armstrong.

Present-day Northern Ireland, a province under the rule of the United Kingdom, includes six of the old Ulster's nine counties and retains its sense of separation, both in the vernacular of the landscape and, some would say, in the character of the people. The hardheaded and industrious Scots-Presbyterians, imported to make Ulster a bulwark against Ireland's Catholicism, have had a profound and ineradicable effect on the place. The north has more factories, neater-looking farms, better roads, and—in its cities—more fine, two-story redbrick houses than are typically found in the republic. For all that, the border between north and south is of little consequence if you're just here to see the country.

On the political front, peace reigns in Northern Ireland today. There are no checkpoints anymore—not security-related ones anyway. As far as border issues go (with the Republic of Ireland to the south), the border is there in name only. No one is stopped or questioned, no passports are checked, and there isn't even a sign announcing you are passing into the republic. Visitors—even ones with English accents—are not hassled in any way, and Americans are more than warmly welcomed. Further progress was made toward peace in the summer of 2005 with the IRA's announcement that they were disbanding, and decommissioning their weapons—a historic move.

Only the direst political commentators predict a return to the dark days of conflict. Instead, the "peace dividend" has led to massive investment in places like Belfast, Derry, and Newry. Every year, Derry gets dolled up for its annual Halloween fancy-dress party and Northern Ireland's vivacious spirit truly takes center stage. Everyone realizes that the more tourists are welcomed, the further the "normalization" process for these embattled people proceeds. As usual, many visitors arrive to view Belfast's "Peace Walls"—built to keep two warring communities apart—but their painted images have changed and are now less of war and more of hope and history. No longer are the Republican heartlands of the Falls and the loyalist Shankill no-go areas; they are now touted as places to witness firsthand human triumph over adversity. Naysayers may remind you that Belfast is no utopia and there is still a way to go, but just come during Feile an Phobail (the West Belfast Festival held in August) and you'll see just how wholeheartedly the city celebrates Northern Ireland's newfound peace.

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