Back in the day, when I wore a younger man's clothes and the children in my life were grand rather than being grand children, we used pack ourselves off to Killarney every summer, drawn by the near mythical status of the Kerry town as the tourist capital of Ireland.

We'd been regaled with stories about the scenic serenity and picturesque landscape of the Ring of Kerry, the three lakes, the Gap of Dungloe, the jarvies, the music, the craic, the sheer bliss of Ireland's paradise.

After all, the Americans flooded there in their thousands on Mecca like pilgrimages, so it had to be special, right.

And, sure enough, we found there a beautiful place, some breathtaking scenery, friendly locals and more manufactured 'Paddyism' than the wonderfully fertile imagination of John Ford could ever have produced.

Holiday memories were wrapped in one compelling observation: Killarney, in all its glory, was indeed impressive - but we were hard-pressed to see what it had that our own Sligo didn't.

I am also a regular visitor to the fair city of Kilkenny, another tourist magnet, where the snakelike line of foreign buses outside the magnificently restored medieval castle would make the eyes water. Castle apart, though, there is very little which the Marble City has to compare with the natural beauty of this region.

This feeling was regularly fortified when, as proud hosts, we would bring visitors from places such as New Zealand and Australia on our own guided tours of the delights of our native countryside. Invariably, their reaction would be one of astonishment that such natural beauty could exist without them ever having heard of it.

"How come nobody knows about this place," would be the common refrain, and we would chuckle meekly that this was our secret and we didn't want pesky tourists trampling all over it!

All of this came back to me as I listened to the thoughtful and thoughtprovoking contributions at last Thursday night's gathering which was called to address the retail crisis currently threatening to turn Sligo into some sort of modern day ghost town.

Many of the speakers focussed on the need for radical changes in our attitude to tourism promotion, rightly identifying this as one area where our economy can benefit from the boost it so badly needs right now.

With the industrial revolution having shot its bolt, and manufacturing industries particularly no longer capable of providing sustainable employment, tourism, more than ever, is the one viable industry that has the potential to provide the bedrock for economic recovery.

So what do we have going for us in this regard? Majestic Benbulen, the Ox Mountains, Knocknarea, Glencar Waterfall, the rugged West Sligo coastline, our unrivalled fishing and surfing, superb golf courses, theatre, cinema, the refurbished Model Centre which will be one of the finest arts facilities not only in Ireland but in all of Europe, the under-played Yeats connection, Madame Markievicz and Lissadell House; the Westlife potential; our rich megalithic heritage; miles of golden beaches; acres of unspoilt forestry, lakes, rivers, walkways in every corner of the county; and a myriad of cultural and music festivals - the list is literally endless. Killarney eat your heart out.

We also have a much improved access infrastructure, the lack of which was a real barrier in times gone by. With more rail links than ever to the capital, a vastly improved road network and an airport on the periphery of the city, Sligo is now a much easier place to get to.

But there are impediments. Even the location of our regional tourism office is odd. As one speaker at Thursday's meeting observed with stinging eloquence: "You'd need a map to buy a map in Sligo."

Certainly, the tourism office is a fine building, staffed I'm sure by diligent, professional people offering a top quality service. But it's in the wrong place.

Other speakers were less colourful but equally critical. The worst tourism body in the country, one contributor charged; another demanded to know why Donegal seemed to dominate the region's marketing strategy.

I'm sure the people in Failte Ireland would have something to say about that, but it's difficult to find fault with much of what was said.

Again harking back to days of long lost youth, I well recall annual forays into Letterkenny for the magical Folk Festival, and how thousands of foreigners would pack out what was then a really small town. It was obvious somebody had done a marvellous marketing job.

Contrast that with a story told by a friend of mine who lived in Vancouver and contacted the regional tourism body here to enquire whether there was anything worthwhile happening in these parts in the autumn of that particular year, only to be politely told it was a quiet time. To his horror, he later discovered he had missed out on the inaugural year of Sligo Live.

The argument that the North West, and Sligo in particular, has the potential to be a significant player in the tourism industry is beyond doubt. That we have failed to tap into this precious resource in a proper way is equally obvious.

Maybe now, born out of desperation, those who can help change that picture will move to do so. Sligo may well be surprising, it may well be Ireland's best kept secret, but the time has surely come to remove the surprise element, unwrap the secrecy, and make the most of what we've got.

When it comes to tourism, Sligo has all the ingredients - we just need somebody to please bake the cake.