Bands from Cavan, Leitrim, Donegal and Monaghan led the Twelfth of July parade at Enniskillen, but it was the presence of a Dubliner that was singled out for mention from the stage.
Mr Ian Cox, who earlier this year called off a plan to lead the Dublin and Wicklow Orange Lodge in a march down Dawson Street, was praised by the Fermanagh Grand Master for his efforts on behalf of the order's foreign missions.
"It's his first visit to a Twelfth of July, so give him a very warm welcome," said Mr Roy Kells, searching the crowd in the hilltop field outside Enniskillen for his guest: "I don't know where he is - he's very shy".
In fact, Mr Cox was standing behind the platform, having just changed his mind about addressing the audience when he realised the event was being covered by television. Still angry about the role of the Mansion House, the Church of Ireland and the Government in the events which led to his cancelling the Dublin parade, he said the last thing he needed was his face on television.
There had been angry protests outside his house during the Dawson Street saga, and he "had to go to the doctor after the whole thing".
The only physical risk he faced yesterday was from being slapped on the back by supporters, and if he had addressed the crowd it would have been "something light, just encouraging young people to get involved". Gesturing at the post-parade activities in the field he added: "We lost all this 80 years ago, and there was no reason to. It's so innocent."
It was hard to disagree about the innocence. Although the keynote address was a sustained attack on the "immoral and corrupt" Belfast Agreement, most people seemed more interested in relaxing on the hillside, buying burgers from the stalls, or getting certificates of attendance from a man dressed as King William. In the words of another visitor from the Republic, the director of the Irish Peace Institute, Deirdre Cantrell, it was a "lovely family day out".
Drumcree was barely mentioned. The keynote preacher, the Rev Stephen Dickinson, acknowledged what was going on there as "disastrous for us".
"The world is blaming us for Garvaghy Road and we're not responsible," he said.
Mr Kells was similarly despairing about the present and similarly hopeful about the future as he sent marchers on their way back to town: "We're in the valley now, but we'll soon be on the hilltop".
This brought applause from the smattering of bowler hats (a scarce commodity in Fermanagh Orangeism) and matronly women (not so scarce) around the stage.
Down in the valley of the field, however, they could barely hear what was going on the hilltop, and didn't seem too worried.
A stall raising money for the Clabby Parish Church Fund sold its last few beefburgers, accepting - in a blatant act of anti-British discrimination - "North and South money" at parity.
