Craigavon · Co. Armagh
A 1965 plan for a linear city. The plan didn't land. The lakes did.
Craigavon is the most ambitious thing Northern Ireland tried to build in the 1960s and one of the most honest lessons it learned. The 1965 New Towns Act designated a planned settlement between Lurgan and Portadown that was supposed to absorb Belfast's overspill, hit 180,000 people by the year 2000, and become a linear city of motorways, separated paths, and modernist housing. It didn't. The Troubles started four years in. The oil shock came after that. The population peaked at roughly half what was promised, and the town the planners designed sits today inside the older towns it was meant to merge — adjacent rather than absorbing.
The name was a fight from the start. James Craig, 1st Viscount Craigavon, was the first prime minister of Northern Ireland and the man who said "a Protestant parliament for a Protestant people." Putting his name on a new town built in a mixed area was read by many as a statement of intent. Some of that reading turned out to be fair. Brownlow and the other big estates went up fast, in concrete that hasn't aged kindly, and the post-1969 reality dropped a lot of empty flats into a town that hadn't yet built a centre.
What's actually here, today, is more interesting than the failure narrative makes it sound. The Craigavon Lakes are genuinely good — two engineered lakes, a tarmac loop, a watersports centre that takes beginners on the south lake, and woods around the edges that don't feel manicured. The Black Paths — that 1960s network of underpasses for pedestrians and cyclists — are being slowly upgraded back into a real greenway. Rushmere is the third-biggest shopping centre in the North. The Seagoe Hotel does a decent room. And the South Lake Leisure Centre, opened to the public in 2020, has a 50-metre pool that's the largest of its kind on the island.
Don't come here for an old market square or a pub-music scene — those live four miles either side, in Lurgan and Portadown. Come for the lakes, a bike around the Black Paths, and a slightly uncomfortable look at what mid-century planners thought a city should be. The architecture is honest about its decade. Honest is its own kind of interesting.