An older man moves briskly down an empty side street in Ballybofey. He is in a rush to get to Main Street in the Co Donegal town, which sits a 25-minute drive from the Border with Northern Ireland.
Denis O’Connor needs to buy more paint for the men clinging to the front of his house on nearby Glenfin Street.
Painting the house is a positive step when you live in one of the most derelict streets in Ireland and your neighbours are five cobwebbed shuttered houses.
“It’s horrible really. Them shutters are horrible,” he says.
The street is so narrow he could high-five passing drivers without leaving his front doorstep. It also happens to be the gateway to west Donegal and 40-tonne lorries drive past every few minutes.
O’Connor has lived here since 1971. How has the street changed?
“Hugely,” he replies. “We had five in our family. This derelict house here had seven and where the shutters are, there was another seven. Now there’s nobody. They’re all scattered, married and moved out.”
The east Donegal twin towns of Ballybofey and Stranorlar have the second highest commercial vacancy rate in the country at 33.6 per cent, according to the latest report by An Post’s data company GeoDirectory. Only Shannon in Co Clare has a higher vacancy rate.
A house in a state of ruin on Navenny Street, Ballybofey, Co Donegal. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw
As the percentage suggests, one in three buildings are empty in the Co Donegal towns. That’s more than twice the national vacancy rate of 14.6 per cent. On paper the towns are near flatlining.
On this bright August morning, though, Ballybofey is jolting itself into life. Open businesses are making as much noise as possible. The music of Beyoncé can be heard loud and clear as sprightly pensioners flock to the town’s raison d’être, McElhinneys department store. The road is busy, leaving some locals to duck and weave through the traffic.
A disused building on Main Street, Ballybofey, Co Donegal. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw
The dereliction is discreet at first glance. Vacant buildings sidle up against occupied neighbours, their boarded-up windows either disguised in the same paint colour or covered with ads to mask the void within.
A Victorian town house stands helpless against a tide of creeping ivy. There are takeaways, a vape shop, a quartet of barber shops and at least three betting shops and casinos. It’s Las Vegas in the hills of Donegal.
Down the side streets, the dust of decrepitude lies thicker. A roofless cottage sits down a lane; with overgrown weeds jostling for space inside its broken windows, like a packed subway carriage.
What do other locals make of it?
“I don’t know why people don’t fix them up,” says Teresa Farrell.
“There’s grants available now. Are they not aware or what? Is the Government not doing enough to find out who owns them? We don’t know who owns some of the buildings.
“It’s not very nice coming up the street seeing all these empty buildings when you know there’s so many people that haven’t got a home. It’d be so much easier doing up these houses than building new ones because the services are all there – the water, sewage and electricity.”
The distance from Leinster House – geographically and politically – means locals are used to getting on with it themselves. The well-maintained Jackson’s Hotel brings a feeling of freshness to a nearby street. It will host a Christmas market later in the year that locals hope brings a sense of vibrancy.
The empty shopping centre in Stranorlar, Co Donegal, is one of many derelict sites in this part of Ireland. Photograph Nick Bradshaw
“Ballybofey is a good wee town, we all want to see it thriving,” says the hotel’s marketing executive Owen McCrudden.
He believes traffic is one of the reasons there’s so much dereliction. The hotel’s director of services, Emer Sweeney, agrees.
“If they did the bypass that they’ve been talking about, that might actually help. It might take traffic out of the town that doesn’t need to be in the town.”
McCrudden adds: “It’s desperately crying out for a central outdoor hub, where there can be a bit of atmosphere.
“Everyone’s going from here to here and they’re all in a rush. There’s no nice green space within the actual town centre. There’s no community space. There’s no heart.”
Stranorlar, a former garrison town, emerged first. Its younger twin, Ballybofey, developed as a market town just across the River Finn in the 19th century. Nobody ever thought to build a town square, and so the towns evolved into a giant drive-through.
The roadside on Main Street actually vibrates when heavy lorries thunder past. Surprised shoppers exiting McElhinneys catch a glimpse of animals’ faces peering from livestock trucks at the zebra crossings. It’s inch-by-inch tailbacks at peak times. Ballybofey is like an artery without a heart.
Up the road, at Stranorlar Cattle Mart, the magnificently named Pearl Bustard remembers thatch cottages and the horse and cart. How does she feel when she drives through the town now?
Can Irish towns be revived?
Derelict Ireland: Dereliction is a blight at any time but it is particularly troubling in a housing crisis. Why are so many buildings left vacant, and what can be done? In this series, The Irish Times reports from towns in Wicklow, Roscommon, Cork and Donegal: examining the widespread challenges, as well as local efforts to bring boarded-up streets back to life.
Part 2: A Celtic Tiger casualty comes back to life Part 3: ‘Why should the community of Mallow have to suffer such decay?’
Photograph: Dara Mac Dónaill
“It’s impossible to drive through the town. The traffic is horrendous,” she says. “The town has expanded, but the road network hasn’t. The width of the streets has never changed. Progress is great, but some progress hasn’t helped.”
Back on Main Street, Joe Alexander’s shop sells a mixum-gatherum of everything from toilet plungers to Mass bouquets.
Joe Alexander in his shop on Main Street, Ballybofey, Co Donegal. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw
“We’re discussing the bypass here since 1975,” he says. “Every 10 years or so it comes up and they pick a route and then the route changes.”
An Coimisiún Pleanála is currently mulling over whether to hold an oral hearing into a proposed bypass and new bridge for the towns.
“Over the years, the only government money that has been spent in this town was on doing up the local Garda barracks,” says Alexander.
He’s opened a cafe and bookshop upstairs to diversify and survive. The antique bookseller working upstairs agrees that “plenty of houses are in bad shape” here, but he won’t give his name.
“If you want to buy a first-edition McGahern, you’ll find me,” he says.
Why are there so many derelict properties here?
“There’s a couple of vacant units there that would be held within wealthy families and it doesn’t put them up or down if they’re vacant or sold or rented,” says auctioneer Martin McGowan, chairperson of the local chamber of commerce.
Some businesses closed during Covid and never reopened. Some owners fell into ill health while others grew old and didn’t have the appetite to tackle the houses. Others inherited the buildings. Some of these people are in a different country.
“The headline doesn’t reflect the reality,” he says. “There’s a difference between vacant and available. If you’re actively trying to get somewhere in town, you’ll be struggling.”
One group of people taking action is the Ballybofey and Stranorlar Integrated Community Company (Basicc). They set up a “town team” subgroup of volunteers to tackle the dereliction, chaired by local Fianna Fáil councillor Patrick McGowan.
A recent survey by Donegal County Council found 96 vacant properties (none are included on its derelict sites register of 10 properties) which the town team are now targeting.
“They’re giving owners the chance,” says Sinn Féin councillor Dakota Nic Mheanman. “They are giving owners the chance first before they go on the derelict sites (register).”
Sinn Féin councillor Dakota Nic Mheanman is hopeful progress can be made in tackling dereliction in Ballybofey and Stranorlar, Co Donegal. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw
The group has discovered some derelict property owners just need a little coaxing.
“We’re not always hearing that the problem is financial,” says vice-chair Leah Fairman. “Sometimes people get busy with other things in their lives. Maybe they’ve inherited property and don’t know what to do with it. Ultimately, if you own a property, it’s up to you to do something about it not being derelict.”
A 2022 regeneration strategy and action plan aims to pedestrianise Glenfin Street among others, build community gardens and transform leftover spaces in both towns.
A €9.8 million SEED project will turn the old Ritz cinema into an enterprise hub and convert the car park off Main Street into a civic green space.
“That will deliver the heart of the town,” says Elaine Bailey, director of Basicc.
Not everyone agrees.
“Taking away this car park . . . is a huge mistake which will affect the little lady coming down to get her pension and the post office,” says Sandra Devenney, general manager of McElhinneys department store.
Do the towns deserve their ignominious ranking?
“Absolutely not. We need a bypass but we still need an incentive for the people – the local people – to come into the town,” she says.
Within the twin-towns area, 53 applications were made to the Vacant Property Refurbishment Grant scheme. So far, €1.03 million has been paid out in relation to 19 properties. The Government is also introducing a derelict property tax, of 7 per cent per derelict property, to be managed by Revenue from 2027.
O’Connor is hopeful the new tax will have the desired effect.
“That should do something with them because they’re not known to give up when they get a hold of something,” he says, before dashing off again.