HEN I was growing in up in Belfast there was very little talk of Tyrone. There was very little talk of anywhere – Belfast was, and is, like all big cities, egocentric – but as I got older and met Fionnuala, and people heard I was moving to the country, they would smile ruefully: “Tyrone? God help you. Law unto themselves.”

One of my more dramatic friends slapped his thigh and drawled, “You’re not from ‘round here, boy.”

This was way off the mark, of course. Yes, there is a hallion battalion – indeed some of Fionnuala’s relations fall into this bracket – but once you learn to avoid/humour them, the people are grand. Straight and purposeful, fun and sweet.

And there is an arty side to them. They are mad about drama and there are plays and musicals and festivals on all the time.

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This was brought home one evening when the doorbell rang and a woman I kinda recognised was standing there, towering........

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