The only face in the crowd

TOUR SPY:Tony Clayton-Lea took the Drogheda Walking Tour – alone – and wondered why the town doesn't make better use of its buildings

IT’S A QUIET day at Drogheda’s Tourist Information office, tucked away – virtually anti-tourist, in fact – on Mayoralty Street. I am outnumbered by staff, and it doesn’t take long for the walking tour to get organised and start – I am the only one on it.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, though, and so myself and tour guide Margaret walk towards the River Boyne and stand opposite our first stop – Mayoralty House. One of the few truly beautiful buildings left in Drogheda, this was constructed in 1765 and, despite the name, none of the town’s mayors ever lived there. Rather, it was a venue for important civic occasions such as presenting Charles Stewart Parnell with the Freedom of the Borough in 1884, and, a year later, the foundation of the GAA. It has lain empty for the past 18 months or so, as the previous long-term tenant (the Sound Shop) has moved. The question must be asked: why don’t the town’s so-called “fathers” move to buy the building? It is asked again when Margaret and I talk about another of Drogheda’s fine old buildings, the Tholsel. At various times home to the corporation/council chambers and a bank, this fine limestone building (erected in 1770) might be the town’s historic focus point, yet it has lain empty for more than five years – a shocking length of time for certain decisions to be made by local councillors. At the time of writing, there is talk that the building may eventually house the new Tourist Information Office, which is, I suppose, better late than never.

Onwards to St Laurence Gate via Constitution Hill, and to the extremely well preserved 13th-century Barbican. It is, justifiably, regarded as one of the finest of its kind in Europe, and Margaret – a member of the Old Drogheda Society who knows her local history without having to resort to off-by-heart waffle – waxes lyrical about its resilience to military action (first from Edward Bruce in 1317, then from Sir Phelim O’Neill in 1642. The only tourist-visit flaw I can see is that the single plaque on each of its two grand, circular towers are filthy, with a wooden frame on one virtually rotting away. How much time, money and thought would it take to repair this? Not much, surely.

From St Laurence Gate we walk along Laurence Street, past the Whitworth Hall (the Witty), which, in the 1860s cost £4,000, a princely sum coughed up by the altruistic Benjamin Whitworth for the benefit of the town. The fact that, now privately owned and operated, it houses pool tables and slot machines is – depending on your point of view – either fitting in extremis or yet another example of the lack of progressive thinking that threatens to bury the town’s historic core. Tour guide Margaret, Sphinx-like, is keeping her counsel.

We wander past the one-time Franciscan church, which now houses the excellent Highlanes Gallery, and make our way towards St Peter’s Church of Ireland (erected in 1751 and pictured below), the churchyard of which contains two most unusual sights. The first is a cadaver tombstone, dating to 1520. Embedded in the wall of the churchyard, it is equal parts fascinating and morbid. The second is the grave of John Duggan, a solider (and survivor) of the Charge of the Light Brigade, who subsequently went on to become sexton in the church, dying in 1881.

One-on-one tours aren’t usual, says Margaret, as we come to the end of our walk, but business can be slow. Perhaps it might improve if the Tourist Office was located where it could easily be found? The walking tours, certainly, won’t break even the poorest of banks: €3 is superb value for money.