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Goodbye To The Countryside?
“Bungalow blitz” of weird-looking new homes spreads across the farm fields
 By Robert Sullivan
These days, Americans who visit
Ireland’s countryside come back singing a slightly different
tune. The people, the pubs, the humor are as great as ever. But
there’s less talk about the scenic beauty, and more about the
scattershot homebuilding that’s rapidly eating up the
landscape. In real estate terms, a kind of “perfect
storm” is going on in Ireland that combines sudden wealth
with a decline in farming, weak zoning laws, and a popular
architectural style that looks wildly out of place. It’s
threatening to turn west Ireland, in particular, into one of
Europe’s less-attractive suburbs.
Ireland’s economic explosion has set off a land-grab as
intense-if not quite as large-as America’s housing boom after
World War II. A key difference, though, is that lots of younger, newly
affluent Irish don’t want to live on the outskirts of a city.
Instead of building little “Levittowns” within
sight of Dublin, many are putting up their dream homes deep in the
countryside. Roads To Ruin? This trend is being helped by new economic opportunities
in rural areas. In Ballymote, near Sligo city, our Ireland Fun
Facts’ friend and sometime contributor Dick Cahill tells us
that “Abbott Medical, Masonite and the credit card company
MBNA all not have facilities very nearby.” Further south, on
the Beara Peninsula, a revitalized fishing industry has made it
possible for more people to live and work locally. But the biggest
force behind rural development, according to many, is
Ireland’s modernized road system, which has made it possible
to commute much further to work, and to quickly get to weekend homes in
places that seemed like the end of the earth just 10 years ago.
The Irish government has also helped, with a number of investment tax
breaks. Back in 1995, a wave of summer home building was set off in the
West by the “Seaside Resort Scheme.” Then in 1998,
the “Rural Renewal Scheme” helped fuel new
year-round home construction all over the Northwest. When these
incentives were first put in place, Ireland’s rural counties
needed help to get out of their long economic decline. From
today’s perspective, though, they seem only to have turned
the Celtic building boom into a speculative frenzy.
Cut to Ribbons
What may be damaging the countryside more than the number of homes,
however, is “ribbon development” – the
widespread practice of scattering homes evenly across the landscape
(along the “ribbon” of roadway), rather than
clustering them to protect at least some open space. Right now, it
seems like almost no large tracts of land are being protected from
development.
Many in Ireland feel that any restriction on ribbon development would
be a kind of heresy. In fact, the government has made repeated moves
over the past three years to make it easier for builders to bypass even
the weak local restrictions that now exist in the countryside. Martin
Cullen, Ireland’s Environmental Prime Minister, has argued
for looser standards, based on the fact that Ireland has always had a
“dispersed population,” and grouping homes together
would be somehow un-Irish. The “cultural” argument,
odd as it may sound to American ears, is a favorite rallying cry of
those opposing any restrictions on rural development.
“Agriculture is in decline, so this is hardly
surprising” says Frank McDonald, Environment Editor for The
Irish Times. “There have traditionally been some restrictions
against ribbon development, but many of them are now being removed by
local counselors who are either acting for developers or who are real
estate developers themselves.” Counties including Wexford,
Galway, Mayo and Kerry are passing laws to allow multiple homes to
connect to a single septic tank and cutting back on sightline
requirements that have traditionally limited density. Mr. McDonald
warns that half a million new homes are projected to go up in the
countryside in the next 20 years, adding “there will be no
unspoilt countryside left in Ireland just 10 years from now, outside of
national parks and mountain peaks.”
Scattered Townlands
A different view comes from Jim Connolly, a sculptor in West Clare who
founded
the Irish Rural Dweller’s Association (IRDA) three years ago.
Mr. Connolly, who has rapidly become the best-known voice against
tighter zoning laws, stands hard by the cultural argument.
“The traditional Irish townland is a scattered community,
although its people are tightly knit. This approach goes back for
thousands of years.” Connolly argues that Ireland has the
lowest housing density of any county in Europe.
“I’m not opposed to any kind of control,”
he says, “but what’s missing is an understanding of
people in an under populated country.” What kind of building
controls he does favor, however, remains a vague topic. As for any
negative impact on tourism, Mr. Connolly says, simply, “if
people want to see the green fields, they should go to places like
Scotland.”
There’s a great deal of debate about whether most new homes
are being built for farmer’s children, summer residents or
commuters. Most counties in Ireland have long had “local
needs” rules, requiring proof that new homes would go to
local families. Mr. Connolly, in fact, claims most of the new building
results from “existing communities repopulating
themselves.” But that’s impossible, according to
Ian Lumley, Environment Officer for An Taisce (pronounced “on
taskha”), the national trust for Ireland. “There
are 130,000 privately owned farms in Ireland,” Mr. Lumley
says. “We estimate that there should only be about 3,000 new
homes needed each year to house family members who want to stay on
those properties. The reason there are 18,000 new homes going up a year
is that people are applying for permission in their own names and then
quickly selling off the sites.” Mr. Lumley notes that in
2003, 60% of the new building in Leitrim involves second homes.
Bungalow Blitz
Then there’s the “style thing.” Americans
are often shocked when they first see the cold, stucco and stone homes
the Irish seem to have fallen in love with. The style is often called
“bungalow bliss,” after the title of a popular
house-pattern book where many of the home designs come from (critics
call it “bungalow blitz”). Its popularity seems
fueled, in part, by a distaste that upwardly mobile Irish have for old
villages, old houses or anything else that reminds them of the
country’s recent, impoverished past. On the properties of
countless new homes, you’ll see the decaying ruins of an old
cottage. IRDA’s Mr. Connolly says that “foreigners
need to understand that rural dwellers cannot live in the kind of
hovels – the romantic thatched cottages – they
occupied just 30 or 40 years ago.” The new homes, he says,
have an “international” style.
English composer Andrew Lloyd Webber, who owns a 12th century castle in
Tipperary, disagrees. Interviewed by The Irish Independent, Mr. Webber
said Ireland is being covered over by “some of the most
hideous and inappropriate housing anywhere in the world.” The
“Cats” composer called for rules requiring new
buildings to conform to local design vernaculars. His statement was
quickly answered by several politicians saying foreigners should keep
their mouths shut on this issue.
But the “Irish design vernacular” is precisely the
problem. There doesn’t seem to be one.
“It’s different than in France or
England,” The Irish Times’ Mr. McDonald says.
“There’s no indigenous tradition of home design
here, outside of old cottages, which are hard to renovate.”
He says the so-called “big houses” of
Ireland’s pre-independence days offer some architectural
heritage, but that big, new “trophy homes” take
only a disorganized pastiche of elements from them.
“There is a traditional form of rural home, with white walls,
a slated roof and vertically proportioned windows,” says Pat
Dargan, lecturer at the Dublin Institute of Technology, “but
there’s no interest in this tradition now. People are basing
their homes on the style of architecture they’ve seen on
their holidays in Spain and Portugal. This is totally alien to our
landscape.”
A dark picture?
“What’s going on here will eventually be seen as a
catastrophe,” warns An Taisce’s Mr. Lumley, adding
“there’s a staggering figure about
Ireland that average car mileage here is now higher than in the U.S. In
other words, people are willing to tolerate driving extremely long
distances to get to work and get their kids to school to be able to
live near the water.” He says that areas where development is
heaviest right now are West Cork, Kerry, Clare, Galway, Mayo, the
Donegal and Sligo coasts and the Shannon River coasts – a
virtual “gold list” of top tourism regions.
There’s so much wealth in Eire now that Irish citizens have
become major buyers of real estate in Britain and in Mediterranean
countries. An Taisce’s pro-control message is so unpopular
that the agency recently faced serious financial problems due to lack
of public support. And last but not least, nobody on any side of this
issue seems to have a viable way for farmers to stay in agriculture
instead of selling their land.
An American may have little right to ask the Irish to stop all this,
when our own economy is built on private home ownership. But on this
side of the pond, we’ve all seen “hot”
towns become so built-up that people want to flee to the next, less
crowded, area. There’s always been a big margin for error in
the U.S. Unfortunately, if Ireland’s new homeowners decide
the countryside is too crowded, there’s nowhere to go but
into the ocean.
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