IN THE pleasantness of north Down they dislike popular references to the area’s wealth and the division of the population into “have-yachts and have-nots”.
And while Orangemen in Belfast strive to rebrand the biggest Twelfth parade under the inclusive banner of Orangefest, it is clear that Bangor has no such challenges.
Thousands lined the route of the parade through the town centre, warmed by a strong sun and fanned by a welcome southerly.
Leading the march was not a wigged, victorious King Billy replica or a blood and thunder band, but a vintage car carrying that TV icon of every child under the age of four – Barney.
The big purple dinosaur threw sweets and lollipops into the appreciative crowds before the more traditional elements of the Orange Order’s big day out came to the fore. The great and the good of the local Orange District stepped into view complete with brethren from Togo and Ghana in west Africa and a couple of ladies from an English lodge complete with their queen mum hats and handbags.
They filed past to a jolly rendition of Col Bogey by a flute band, many of whom were beaded with sweat. Then came a swirling pipe band which wailed Scotland The Brave. It was all reassuringly traditional. Keeping in almost military step behind them were the upright members of lodges from across north Down and the Ards peninsula.
There were ranks of bowler hats, rolled brollies, polished shoes as well as the sashes, cuffs and collarettes many of them loaded with the symbols of Orange honour.
Their bearers oozed pride and confidence as they broke the formality of the occasion with occasional cheery waves and shouts to friends in the crowd.
There was little to get the blood rising or threaten the easy, relaxed atmosphere.
The bright red uniforms of the Pride of North Glasgow band, Ulster’s Chosen Few and the Rising Sons of William added plenty of percussion to the tranquil afternoon. Two Lambeg drummers laboured up the hill to the field, while the Newtownards Melody Flute Band, immaculate in their perfect uniforms and patent leather shoes, showed how it should be done. The music ranged from traditional Orange standards to popular Scottish folk tunes and even included a marching version of The Fields of Athenry. The famine lament had never sounded so bright and upbeat.
Sandy Row Flute Band thrashed their way past, the drummers kitted out with matching black gloves. But even the invited guests from Belfast could add no more sense of menace than the gentlemen of Ballyhalbert who paraded with ceremonial swords drawn.
In the expanse of the field the thousands relaxed and picnicked as the blue skies gradually surrendered to a threatening gloom. Hundreds queued at burger vans and chippers.
A hardy few dozen, certainly no more, gathered for the religious service and speeches at the platform.