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Irish Times
02-08-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Reasons to love Dublin right now: 52 of our favourite things about the city
Louis McNeice nailed it eight decades ago when he immortalised our capital city in his poem Dublin : 'But yet she holds my mind/With her seedy elegance ... The glamour of her squalor, The bravado of her talk.' Ah, Dublin. The seedily-elegant city gets an awfully hard time these days. The housing crisis looms large, as do the apart-hotels springing up everywhere, not to forget the dilapidation that has always dogged our dirty old town. For years each winter, New York magazine has celebrated that city with its Reasons to Love New York Right Now edition. Inspired by them, we're celebrating all that is great about Dublin. We know she has plenty of problems (scarlet for you, Temple Bar) but when we asked our contributors for examples of all that is brilliant right now about the capital we couldn't hold them back: cultural happenings, community activism, remarkable watering holes, diverse food offerings and absurdities such as a few cherry tomatoes on a bridge becoming a bona-fide tourist attraction. READ MORE We're not blind to the city's shortcomings (or overpriced pints) but what follows is a celebration of the capital in all her current glory. The magic, the mischief and the unexpected moments that make Dublin one of the best little towns in the world. So here are some of the many reasons why we love Dublin right now ... (With thanks to Róisín Ingle, Corinna Hardgrave, Una Mullally, Roe McDermott, Olivia Kelly, Conor Pope, Emer McLysaght, Deirdre McQuillan, Sorcha Pollak, Conor Capplis, Rebecca Daly, Niamh Browne, Joanne Cronin, Malachy Clerkin, Madeleine Lyons, Laura Slattery, Cathal O'Gara, Gemma Tipton and Ella Sloane). Culture & nightlife Because the Hacienda is holding out against gentrification. Shay is one of Dublin's most beloved publicans. Always sporting an untied bow tie hung over a jazzy waistcoat and shirt, along with his signature coloured glasses, perhaps his greatest contemporary achievement is buttressing a unique bar from TikTok-loving tourists who confuse character with content. The pub – its exterior mimics a traditional Spanish cottage – has been there for decades in the market area between Capel Street and Smithfield. After you buzz the 'bar' bell, and Shay cracks the iron-gated door, gives you the once over, and – if you're lucky, or a regular – grants entry, inside you'll find a magical pub stuck in time, with its nautical theme, pool tables, and a jukebox that always reverts to The Eagles. Intimate and lively, quaint and fun, it is also beloved by visiting artists looking for a down-to-earth spot to grab a pint, or to celebrate film premieres and arena tours ( Taylor Swift booked it out for the after-party following her trio of concerts at the Aviva Stadium last summer). Sure, you can have a star on Hollywood Boulevard, but everyone knows that a framed photograph of you next to Shay on the wall of the Haci is the sign you've really made it. Now surrounded by apart-hotels, The Hacienda represents a space and attitude holding out against the homogenous corporate gentrification of the city. Protesters marching over the proposal to build a 114-room hotel around the Cobblestone pub in Smithfield, Dublin. Photograph: Dara Mac Dónaill ... and the Cobblestone lives on. One of the great people's victories in Dublin in recent years was the success of the Cobblestone protest . The pub – a bastion of traditional music, song, dance, and the Irish language – was threatened with a hotel development in 2021. Artists and audiences alike sprang into action, holding protests in Smithfield and at the headquarters of Dublin City Council. Planning permission ultimately refused; culture was one of the reasons cited. The energy of this successful protest speaks to the thriving traditional music scene in the city, from which many brilliant, boundary-pushing contemporary acts have emerged. Away from the din of amplified tourist-baiting live music in Temple Bar, you'll still find authentic sessions in pubs across the city, and core to those is the Cobblestone. Because the Chamomile Club is proving Dublin can still be an exciting place for young artists. One of the most exciting collectives to come out of the city in recent years, the Chamomile Club encompasses parties, club nights, and music releases, featuring some of Ireland's most exciting acts, including Monjola, Moio, and Aby Coulibaly. From block parties on Fade Street to garden parties at Orlagh House, and events at The Workman's Club, The Complex, or other 'secret locations', their line-ups, design, and all-round energy is elevated and exciting. Other Dublin collectives, spaces and bands with a radical spirit include Dublin Digital Radio, Unit 44, and Bricknasty. Dublin is an expensive place to live, underserved with cultural spaces, and bigger cities are always calling. Yet these young artists and collectives are holding firm and inspiring others. Because the IFI and the Lighthouse are churches for film nerds. The seats are comfy, the coffee's good, the staff are all delightful film nerds, and the foyers feel like somewhere you might accidentally meet the love of your life. Arthouse cinema in Dublin is alive and well, with the IFI hosting the Family Film Festival this August, while the Lighthouse's programme is packed with the best new films as well as special screenings of classics like In The Mood For Love and Stanley Kubrick's Barry Lyndon . Events like Cinema Book Club, GAZE and regular Q & As with writers and directors make these cinemas cultural hubs where no one will judge you for crying at a documentary about sheep. And if they do, they're in the wrong cinema. Throwing Shapes is a community ceramics studio in Dublin 8. Photograph: Alan Betson Because pottery fever is catching in the Liberties. Nestled away on Mill Street in the Liberties, you'll find a clay haven . Throwing Shapes is 'the equivalent of Ballymaloe, but for clay,' says its founder Síofra Murdock, a ceramicist from Co Down who is as cheery and colourful as the pieces on display in her studio. Curious passersby can't help but peer through the giant windows, plastered with bold red lettering – 'Your Community Ceramics Studio' – to see what's going on. It's a hub of activity, hosting workshops, talks and markets that attract queues down the street. The shelves are lined with hundreds of creations, decorative and functional, at varying degrees of completion – some already fired and glazed, others still blank canvases. Having just celebrated its first birthday in May, the magnetic force of the studio grows stronger by the week. One member has even packed up and moved house to have the pottery wheels within arm's reach. Murdock has hand-built a thriving clay community. Come and get your hands dirty. Because a Dublin storytelling event has gone global. Seanchoíche is a pop-up story telling night which encourages speakers to share personal anecdotes, prose, monologues, and spoken word. It gets its name from an amalgamation of seanchaíthe (the Irish for storytellers) and oíche (the Irish for night). The event, conceived in the Unesco city of literature, now runs in Belfast, Limerick, London, Amsterdam, Sydney, Melbourne. The night recently ran a slot on the Greenpeace Stage at Glastonbury – and if it's cool enough for Glasto, it's cool enough for us. Because the Silent Book Club at Mish Mash Café is a balm for the overstimulated brain . Silent Book Club comes with no pressure, no awkward icebreakers, no demands. Just turn up, order a coffee, read your book. For an hour or two, people sit in a hush that feels unusually generous – alone, together. The only thing you have to bring is a book and maybe the unspoken hope that the world can still make space for quiet, slow, communal moments. For introverts, it's heaven. For everyone else, it's an excellent excuse to finally read that novel. Forbidden Fruit at the Royal Hospital Kilmainham Because it's brilliant for live music. From blockbuster headliners like Taylor Swift at the Aviva and Bruce Springsteen at Croke Park, to up-and-coming Irish talent taking to the stage in the Academy or international indie acts playing the Olympia, Dublin easily pulls the live music weight of a city three times its size. It's not just the venues themselves that are special, but festivals such as Kilmainham's Forbidden Fruit and In The Meadows, to the propulsive dance beats of Longitude in Marlay Park. Catch emerging acts at smaller festivals like Whelan's We've Only Just Begun and Workman's Next Big Thing. Because we have the greatest (art) show on earth for free. In other capital cities people line up to pay admission to art galleries. In Dublin you can see Caravaggio, Vermeer (one of only 34 in the whole world) and more for absolutely nothing at the National Gallery. Or wander into the Hugh Lane, for their heart-soothing Impressionist collection, alongside the world-famous Francis Bacon Studio. Right now, Ailbhe Ní Bhriain's hauntingly beautiful Dream Pool Intervals is on show there too, ending September 28th. Because our contemporary art museum is so much more. An art gallery you can do yoga at? Tick. Not only does the Irish Museum of Modern Art have a collection that's jam packed with goodies (Daphne Wright, Dorothy Cross, Alice Maher – and that's just for starters), their summer programme adds drop in yoga in the formal gardens on Wednesday lunchtimes and Thursday evenings all summer long. Add outdoor art films on Living Canvas, coffee in the courtyard, music and free workshops to get your arty buzz on and find out more at Did someone say art is stuffy, formal and elitist? Not in Dublin. Dublin oddities, attractions & heritage Katie McCarthy, Mary Bolger, Seren Gillard and Carlie O'Connor at the Cherry Tomato Bridge. Photograph: Tom Honan Because a few cherry tomatoes on a bridge can turn into a tourist attraction. Nobody knows who started it. Nobody cares. What began last January as a few cherry tomatoes frozen during a cold snap on Binns Bridge in Drumcondra evolved into an unlikely tourist attraction. On Google Maps, it was known as 'the Shrine of the Sacred Cherry Tomatoes of Drumcondra'. Locals and tourists flocked to pay homage with ketchup sachets, basil bouquets and, in one high-art twist, AI-generated portraits of tomatoes in tuxedos. Influencers filmed it. Poets wrote tomato-based tributes. The bridge, inevitably, got millions of views on TikTok. A tourist from Zimbabwe told one newspaper that while he'd been to see the Phoenix Park 'so far my favourite thing is the Cherry Tomato Bridge'. 'Rotten tomatoes,' complained the critics. 'Salad days,' countered the fans. Either way, it captured something ephemeral about the communal absurdity to be found in Dublin. Dublin City Council Spoilsports Department were quick to clean it all up, but we'll always have the memories. Because Dublin pub quizzes are the best craic. Every night of the week in Dublin there's a Quizteam Aguilera or a Trivia Newton John vying for glory in the great leveller of social activities, the pub quiz. A good team name is almost more important than how you do. From The Woolshed on Parnell Street to Dudley's on Thomas Street you'll get more old favourites like Quiz Quiztofferson and Universally Challenged, along with some more local flavour like Let Quizty Take It or A Tráth Called Ceist. The weekly Wednesday quiz at The Circular in Rialto often sells out and combines friendly vibes, at least four dog mascots, and healthy rivalry between returning teams and newbies alike. Losers get whatever the host Colin McKeown bought earlier in the shop across the road, so even if the scores plummet there might be a Toffee Crisp in it for you. Colin runs Quiz Host Ireland and says it's community that brings people back again and again: 'Simply that we gather together and join a bigger group'. His favourite team name ever? 'Padraig Pearsed Nipples.' The Viking Splash has become so beloved in Dublin. Photograph: Dara Mac Dónaill Because sound Dubs still play along with the Viking Splash Tour. Those giant yellow second World War era amphibious vehicles trundle around the city, spitting facts about Dúbh Linn and pointing out that the Pepper Canister Church is so-called because it ... looks like a pepper canister. The favourite activity of the Viking Splash is creeping up on unsuspecting pedestrians to roar at them. It is the best of sports who pretends not to see them coming and then gets a 'big fright' followed by a wave to all the marauders on-board. The Viking Splash has become so beloved in Dublin that when it appeared back on the streets after the Covid lockdowns it was taken as a positive sign that the city was healing. Spare a thought though for those who live or work along the route. It can't be easy hearing those impassioned 'aarrgghhs!' multiple times a day. Because soon you'll be able to make free phone calls from a retro phone box in the Little Museum of Dublin. Newly reopened in its original home in a Georgian town house on the northside of St Stephen's Green, the back yard of the Little Museum of Dublin will shortly be home to an old-school cream and green phone box. Once a familiar sight on Parkgate Street and later Dawson Street, the K1 phone kiosk is one of only two examples of this iconic phone box still left – the other is in Foxrock village where it's a decorative suburban quirk that also houses a well-used book exchange. When the phone box lands in the museum in August it will become the only functioning K1 phone kiosk in the State. After a restoration project, Eir has donated the kiosk to the Little Museum ensuring that this piece of telecommunications heritage is safeguarded for future generations. Soon visitors to the museum will be able to experience the unique phone box and even, thanks again to Eir, make phone calls anywhere in Ireland for free. Because Dublin Zoo now has animatronic dinosaurs. The affection Ireland has for Dublin Zoo was evident in the concern many felt last summer when illness struck the elephant herd leaving two of the beloved beasts dead. It was also on display at the height of the Covid pandemic when people dug deep to fund food for the animals when the zoo was on its knees after months of lockdown. The zoo in 2025 is almost entirely unrecognisable from the one conceived in the Rotunda Hospital in 1830 when a group of medics and scientists formed the Zoological Society of Ireland. Back then it was largely for the entertainment of wealthy Dubliners, with the entrance fee set at a hefty six pence – or nearly €100 in today's money. Sundays were for normal people – as long as they could afford to spend a single penny. Now spread over 28 hectares, the zoo attracts more than 1 million visitors a year as Ireland's largest family attraction. And a day at the zoo got even better earlier this year when the 700 animals were joined by animatronic dinosaurs. Trinity College Dublin: an oasis of tranquillity and architectural beauty. Photograph Nick Bradshaw Because Trinity College is an oasis in the bustling capital Right bang in the city centre you can step away from the busy streets into a 430-year-old college that is an oasis of tranquillity and architectural beauty. On a summer's day you can even walk past the playing fields to the Pavilion Bar and sit on the steps outside watching the cricket (no understanding of the rules required). Because our seagulls think they own the place. They look down on us, they threaten our sandwiches, they play havoc with rubbish bags and poo on our cars. They cackle, they chortle, they screech and scream and yet Dublin wouldn't be Dublin without seagulls. Bloom feeds them in Ulysses, one of several notable references to the birds in James Joyce's novel. Dublin has the densest urban gull population in Ireland; they've been nesting in the city since the 1970s due to declining food sources at sea and closure of landfills – now estimated to number around 10,000 breeding pairs. Yet, despite this rise, the overall herring gull population in Ireland has dropped by 90 per cent in the past 30-40 years. As they tell us what we have done to our environment – and theirs – we should look up to them. Because the clip-clop of horses is still the soundscape of the inner city. Many cities have horse and carriage tours for tourists, but in Dublin, this goes much deeper. Caring for horses is an intrinsic part of the city's culture – as well as Traveller culture – to this day. Around Dublin 7 and 8, it's not uncommon to see young people walking horses through the streets, or trotting on sulkies. Concerns are often raised over animal welfare and the future of the Smithfield horse fair. But talk to a kid in the city with a horse by their side, and they'll furnish you with plenty of details about the horse's personality and how they care for them. If only the city could contribute more to enhancing the care of horses by providing new funding for stables, and acknowledging that this culture should be protected and supported with animal welfare as a priority. Community Mary Flanagan, Fiona Durran, Catherine McCoy, Geraldine Feeney and Eva Currid in Portmarnock. Photograph: Dara Mac Dónaill. Typography: The Irish Times Because Dubliners can talk to anyone. There's a particular magic in the Dubliner's ability to talk absolute nonsense – and mean it. Not just weather chat, but miniature theatre: timing, wit, warmth. Whether it's the butcher, the barista, or the person beside you on the 13, you'll get a comment, a joke, a 'will you look at that state of the sky'. It's not meaningless – it's micro-connection. People who deride the power of small talk are unaware of its important psychological benefits. Small talk – particularly those small chats you have with people you see regularly such as shopkeepers and regulars on your bus route – has been proven to promote a greater sense of safety, belonging and community. It's not a coincidence that we are discussing loneliness and isolation at a time where people are more likely to put headphones on than say hi to your barista. Great small talk is a form of connection and it's also a cultural skill we should be proud to protect and cultivate. Because 'For All' groups are bringing communities together . Scores of volunteer and community groups have sprang up across Ireland in response to an increase in asylum seeker arrivals and anti-immigrant protests. In Dublin, many of these 'For All' groups have evolved into a network of engagement for the wider community, says Roxanna Nic Liam, a member of the East Wall for All group. 'These groups integrate not just asylum seekers, but locals who have been in the community for generations,' she says. 'East Wall for All showed us how a working-class area in Dublin really does come together in a crisis and make the area a better place.' Liam Hourican of Dublin 8 For All says the group's membership has rapidly grown following recent anti-immigrant protests outside two primary schools in Dublin 8. 'People were disturbed by the rise of hateful narrative. We think an attack on marginalised members of our community is an attack on all our community.' Dublin 8 For All 'makes our community richer', says Hourican. 'This is what our country should be about – we should be open and confident and kind to each other.' Palestinte protest in Dublin. Photograph: Ella Sloane Because Dublin keeps showing it solidarity with Palestine. Dublin has long been a focal point for protest and activism in Ireland, and over the past year, it has become a powerful centre for solidarity with Palestine. From the Garden of Remembrance to the gates of Leinster House, tens of thousands have taken to the streets. Palestinian flags hang from shop windows, business awnings and private homes, a sign of collective outrage and empathy. This surge in solidarity is part of a broader, deeply rooted activist spirit in Dublin, where people have repeatedly gathered to reshape Ireland's national identity, from the Repeal the 8th movement to the Marriage Equality referendum. The same streets that once echoed with calls for reproductive rights and LGBTQ+ equality now resound with chants for justice in Gaza. Public spaces & transport Because Capel Street is Dublin's best car-free street. You can keep Grafton Street and Henry Street. Not only is Capel Street longer, it is distinctly better suited to exploit the advantages of a traffic-free environment because it has what the others lack – pubs and restaurants. Retail-dominated Grafton Street and Henry Street are dead once the shops close, but life continues into the evening on Capel Street, pedestrianised in 2022, particularly in summer when people can dine outdoors. During the day, the new public seating is well-used by shoppers taking a rest, teenagers socialising, tourists checking out what their next destination should be, and workers availing of an outdoor space to have lunch. Instead of car fumes and the noise of traffic, now there is the sound of conversation. Instead of pedestrian safety being compromised by vehicles, now there are plants to enjoy. ... followed by Parliament Street. Facing Capel Street across Grattan Bridge, bookended by the Liffey and City Hall, tree-lined Parliament Street was pedestrianised in July. The removal of traffic has the potential to rebalance Temple Bar, drawing more tourists from the busier east end to the West. It is also a big gain for cycling, with a new contraflow lane on Grattan Bridge allowing cyclists to go in both directions from City Hall on Dame Street, along Capel Street and all the way to Bolton Street – a distance of almost 1km. Because the quays are no longer a traffic choked hellscape. Described as a 'watery dual carriageway' by Dublin City Council's head of traffic Brendan O'Brien, the quays served no one – not cyclists, not pedestrians, not bus users, not even the private car drivers who were the largest contributors to its congestion. That has changed. Last summer the council banned private cars and commercial vehicles travelling along the Liffey at either side of O'Connell Bridge from 7am to 7pm. City car parks remained accessible, no Liffey bridge was closed to cars, and once 7pm hit, it was back to the status quo. Yet this one small measure had a transformative effect on traffic. The provision for cyclists is still poor, but the big winners are Dublin's bus users. Rush hour bus journey times fell by almost a third and timetable accuracy increased. Some motorists still ignore the restrictions, but hopefully the planned introduction of traffic light cameras will sort them out. Dublin Port's Tolka Estuary Greenway Because slowly, surely, soul-enhancingly, our city is becoming greener. As the cycleways and pedestrianised areas have expanded, so too have little pockets of green. Whether it's more trees along the new cycle paths in North Strand or vertical planting out of the bases of old brick walls in the Liberties or St James Linear Park running along the Luas red line in Rialto, these are imaginative, in many cases inexpensive, interventions that go a long way to softening the city's rougher edges. Cabra is full of brilliant examples such as the Community Roots garden-sharing initiative which matches people who want to grow their own food with others who have space and are happy to share. Then there's the Cabra Pond, built without a pond liner using bentonite clay, has transformed the area behind the Most Precious Blood Church off Kilkieran Road. The pond is full of tiny frogs at the moment with plenty of swifts soaring overhead – boxes for the birds were organised by Connecting Cabra. Catriona Kenny, a member of that group, says local churches have been generous with their land: 'We've held biodiversity festivals there, and planted long flowering meadows, native hedgerows and even a mini orchard. A local flood-alleviating project is ongoing around Christ the King Church, to reduce pressure on our storm drains.' Well played, Cabra. A decorative painting art on an electricity or phone junction box. Photograph: Artur Widak/NurPhoto/Getty Images Because our traffic junctions have become public works of art . It all started 10 years ago as part of the Dublin Canvas community art project. Artists were asked to come up with ideas for painting over the grey, and much graffitied, traffic light control boxes with all manner of eye-catching art. These brightly painted boxes bring welcome flashes of creativity and colour to otherwise boring bits of street furniture at most junctions throughout the city and suburbs. With another batch commissioned for painting over the coming months, there will be more than 900 spread out across Dublin by autumn. Because our walls talk back. Street artists like Joe Caslin and Emmalene Blake make the city feel alive. Caslin's soaring portraits – of queer teens, grieving men, hopeful change – don't just beautify walls, they demand tenderness. Emmalene Blake's work started with portraiture and has now become more political: hand-painted girls, mothers, and martyrs who quietly reclaim space for care, queerness, and Palestine. In a city often accused of being scrubbed of character, these artists murals remind you what still matters, responding to social crises and political events in real time, turning empty space into activism and concrete into feeling. You look up, and suddenly the city's talking back. Drury Street in Dublin. Photograph: Alan Betson Because people sit anywhere, anytime, anyhow. The provision of public seating in some areas of the city is finally improving, but elsewhere, Dubliners still have to take a load off by sitting on the street, as they have always done. Back in the day, the steps of the Central Bank were where young people gathered, and an ecosystem of subcultures merged; ravers, rockers, goths, grunge heads, skaters, and emo kids. Then it was the steps of the Powerscourt Shopping Centre on South William Street. While the banks of the canals and the boardwalk are well-worn sitting spots, now it's the kerbs of Drury Street, Castle Market and Fade Street where you'll find the city's cool kids hanging out. (The pedestrianisation of South William Street remains in limbo; this could revitalise a street that was once buzzing, but is now pockmarked by vacancy.) Because the Clontarf to city centre cycleway is glorious. Since the early 1990s cyclists heading north from Clontarf have had a traffic free path to enjoy the fabulous vista of Dublin Bay opening up before them, until, that is, they were chucked out unceremoniously at the Wooden Bridge to contend with traffic for a 2km stretch. In 2017 this missing link in the cycle-path was filled in and all was well, unless you were a cyclist heading south from Clontarf, then you were left to dice with death all the way into town. But no more. Last November the Clontarf to city centre cycle route opened. This 2.7km route takes cyclists all the way from the end of the Clontarf promenade to Conolly Station on Amiens Street, but more than that, it offers connections, existing and planned, to a whole network of safe segregated cycle routes. Already cyclists can use it to join the Royal Canal Greenway at Newcomen Bridge and Dublin Port's new Tolka Estuary Geenway via Fairview Park. In future, the route will be extended from Amiens Street down to the Liffey side paths and one day, if the council implements its Sandymount Strand Road plans, it will be connected to the southside and eventually the long-awaited Sutton to Sandycove (S2S) cycle-path along Dublin Bay could be completed. Because the new S bus routes offer a whole new way to explore the city. Rather than follow the old centripetal pattern of draining humanity into the city centre where people often had to hop off and hop on another bus to get where they wanted to go, the new S buses run across the city. The S2 for example goes from Heuston Station to Sandymount, through the city centre. ... and everyone still thanks the bus driver when getting off. Even if people now have to disembark via the middle doors, they still shout 'thanks' up to the driver. And unless you're wielding a knife the drivers almost always let you travel even if you don't have change or didn't know they don't take e-payments (in this day and age!). Out & about Swimmers enjoying the beautiful weather off the Hawk Cliff in Dublin. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw Because sea swimming is now a religion with better robes. Irish people have a deep relationship with the sea; we turn to it as a form of escape, of calm, of emotional regulation. Whether you're partial to Seapoint, Bull Wall, the Forty Foot or Vico Baths, there's no such thing as off-season: the sea is always there for you. And even if you go alone, there's a sense of community in being one of the mad ones who embraces the cold at any time of year. The reasons vary – mental health, community, a daily dopamine hit – but the feeling is universal: euphoria, followed by a hot flask of tea and a smug glow that lasts all day. ... and you can swim beside Moglaí Bap from Kneecap at Clontarf Baths. Swimming outdoors in Dublin with the reassurance of a seawater filter was a weirdly impossible dream until relatively recently, but this joyfully jellyfish-free option is now available at Clontarf Baths (€10 for two hours, ). Originally built in the 1880s, the baths reopened after a 22-year hiatus in 2018, initially only for swimming club members, before public sessions were added in 2022. The pool tends to be a few degrees warmer than actual sea temperature, though it might not feel that way if you brave it outside the summer months. With its expansive dimensions, it is an invigorating, open secret swim spot. Moglaí Bap from Kneecap presumably agrees – he was spotted enjoying the baths when the band were in town for their gig at Fairview Park in balmy June. Liam Irwin and Dan O'Connor, co-founders of the Hot Box which has saunas in several locations across Ireland Because saunas have become the new pubs. Forget meeting people for a meal or a drink, the new way to socialise is by sweating together in a sauna, with new ones opening in recently in almost every Dublin postcode, from Killiney to Swords, Dundrum to Ballsbridge. One of our favourites is the Hot Box Sauna in Inchicore, an area recently named as one of the coolest neighbourhoods in the world by Time Out. Because there's a run club for everyone. Dubliners are embracing new ways of socialising and boosting their health while they are at it, and with a great selection of parks and walkways, it seems only natural. From singles, to gaeilgeoirs to members of the LGBTQ community to asylum seekers, there's a run club to suit all interests, whether you're looking to train for a marathon or simply jog 5k; some of the most popular include Sanctuary Runners, Dublin Front Runners, Sole Mates, Run Club Social and Club Reatha. Shopping Spar on Dame Street is unofficially known as Gay Spar. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw Because Gay Spar is still the best place to feel seen at 2am. Officially known as the Spar on Dame Street, unofficially known as Gay Spar, this 24-hour convenience store is also a safe haven. So-called due to its proximity to The George, 'Gay Spar' started as a nickname – but the shop has wholeheartedly embraced it, with windows now emblazoned with rainbow Pride colours. When you stumble in after the club, before the taxi, when your eyeliner's smudged and your voice is hoarse, you can be safe in the knowledge that you're not the only glitter-covered person buying a Lucozade and a sausage roll. At a time where corporate LGBTQ+ allyship – no matter how performative – is being rolled back worldwide, Gay Spar has proven to be a steadfast ally. Because some shops are more than just shops. Around the city, independent stores add to the diversity of retail, breaking up the monotony of international chains. Many of these brick-and-mortar stores also act as cultural hubs. Saint Street hosts sessions by local rappers. Emma Fraser's vintage clothing stores Loot and Nine Crows have expanded into an internationally lauded modelling agency Not Another Agency. Tola Vintage hosts Culture Night parties, and High Rollers has a skate team. At Indigo & Cloth's micro-cafe, actors, artists, playwrights and crew from the nearby Project Arts Centre grab a brew. Emporium collaborates with the club Index and the record label Soft Boy, home to Kean Kavanagh and Kojaque. Owner of Little Deer Comics Matthew Melis is founder of the Dublin Comic Arts Festival. What all these stores have in common is an independent spirit, a can-do attitude, and a belief that community is what makes a city business tick. For crafts and jewellery, The Irish Design Shop on Drury Street can't be beaten. Photograph: Dara Mac Dónaill Because Stable and The Irish Design Shop are beacons of Irish design. If there's one shop in Dublin city centre that lifts the spirits in an otherwise mediocre line up of global fashion brands found in any European capital, it is Stable in the Westbury Mall. Founded by friends Sonia Reynolds and Frances Duff originally as a pop-up ten years ago, it celebrates its ongoing success in promoting Irish craftsmanship and native fabrics, designing and making scarves, clothing and home accessories using Irish linen, tweed and handwoven wool. For crafts and jewellery, The Irish Design Shop on nearby Drury Street can't be beaten. Because indie bookshops are still holding the line. In Books Upstairs, you can climb the stairs to a cafe filled with poetry books and political theory. In The Gutter Bookshop, the staff recommend novels with such genuine joy it feels like a gift. In Hodges Figgis, a 300-hundred-year-old institution, you can still overhear a teenager discovering Sylvia Plath. The best ones – like The Library Project in Temple Bar, with its photo books and zines – remind you that books aren't just stories, they're worlds, and Dublin still has places where you can stumble into them. Events like Rick O'Shea's Writehawks, which allows writers to come in and chat about their favourite books, create a sense of community. George's St Arcade. Photograph: David Sleator Because the George's Street Arcade is as odd as ever. Where else could you get a nipple pierced and your fortune told before picking up a kaftan, some handcrafted statement jewellery, a batter burger and an oat-milk latte, all under the one roof? Only in Ireland's first purpose-built shopping centre. While it's unlikely the youth of the 1880s – when the George's Street Arcade first opened its doors – were lining up to get body parts pierced or inked, they were no doubt as drawn to the eclectic mix of stalls and shops as more recent generations have been. And sure as anything they used it as a handy and dry shortcut when walking from George's Street to Drury Street on a rainy day. The closure of Simon's Place is still mourned by many, but the arcade continues to be a draw for tourists and locals. Because Kish Fish reminds us what food shopping should be like. Kish opened on a back street in the heart of Smithfield in 1979 when Ireland loved the pope and the notion of north inner-city gentrification was as comically unlikely as a computer company paying us €13 billion in back tax or some class of silicon docks popping up at the back of Irishtown. The fishmongers standing behind the beds of tightly packed ice are old-school and fiercely obliging, happy to fillet and skin whatever takes your fancy and teach you how best to cook it. You won't find that service in many supermarkets. Lucy's Lounge, Fownes Street, Temple Bar. Photograph: Dara Mac Dónaill Because of the second-hand treasure troves. Dublin's street style is a combo of Pellador jumpers and Claddagh ring emblems, mixed with second-hand finds uncovered in the city's charity and vintage shops – from the legendary Lucy's Lounge in Temple Bar and Monto on Parnell Street, to the newer Big Smoke Vintage in Temple Bar. As for the 'chazzas', Dublin has a wonderful selection of shops that follow each other like stepping stones, from Capel Street to George's Street, Camden Street and into the southside. Because the flea market scene keeps offering new treasures. In 2018, the Dublin Flea Market ceased trading due to redevelopment around Newmarket Square, much to regret of locals and fans of a good bargain. But residents were delighted to welcome the revived Newmarket Flea in July. Elsewhere in the city, Quirk, Le Zeitgeist, Libertine Market Crawl, Flux Market and the Block Market in Charlemont Square have all helped turn thrifting into a social event. Flea markets are a haven of creativity and community, showcasing the best of local artists, crafts and vintage fashion collectors. It's not just about finding something rare and engaging in a spirit of sustainability as old items become loved again, it's about chatting to the sellers, grabbing a coffee, and seeing what strange treasure finds you. Because Change Clothes offers us a guilt-free wardrobe refresh while saving clothes from landfill. In 2022, Mary Fleming set up Change Clothes in Crumlin, initially a one-week pop-up devoted to clothes swapping, workshops and exhibitions. Fast forward to 2025 and Mary's word is spreading far and wide across Dublin. Now based on Thomas Street in Dublin 8, Change Clothes hosts clothes swaps, fill-a-bag events, sewing machine classes and textile upcycling events. Donated clothing is redistributed to people in need, and traineeships are offered to those looking to get started in the textile industry. Change Clothes also enables other social enterprises to host clothes swaps events by providing clothes rails and the know-how. Food & Drink Staff at the Priory Market in Tallaght, Dublin. Photograph: Alan Betson Because the city finally knows how to eat. There was a time when 'going out for food' in Dublin meant soggy panini or bafflingly expensive Caesar salads. Not any more. From Filipino adobo tacos to cardamom cruffins to smoked fish toasties made in tiny food trucks, the capital's kitchens are having a golden age. There's imagination, care, spice. Pop-ups and wine bars. Places you tell your friends about immediately, unless you want to keep them to yourself. It's not just fancy spots – it's the fact that Dubliners now expect their food to taste of something. And it does. New favourites include Little Lemon on Duke Lane, Pickosito on Mary Street, Fidelity in Smithfield, Lupillos in Inchicore, and Cat You Café in Ringsend for the best acai bowl in town, as well as the global streetfood stalls at the recently opened Priory Market in Tallaght. Because Assassination Custard is defying the odds. In a city where independent restaurants are being flattened by rent hikes and global roll-outs, and Dublin dining has blurred into velvet booths, TikTok interiors and menus written by accountants, Ken Doherty and Gwen McGrath's Assassination Custard in Dublin 8 remains a quiet act of resistance. Opened in 2015, it shut in July 2023 to reassess how – or if – it could go on. It reopened in February, reshaped but not softened: bookings open weekly on Instagram, lunch Wednesday to Friday, with two sittings, 12pm and 1.30pm. Bookings are for one or two people, dining at shared tables, maximum eight people. It's €35 a head minimum (less if solo). Now serving wine: one red, one white, and a vermouth at €8.50 a glass. The paper-bag menu shifts with the season and their format: always vegetarian options, often offal – tripe, kidneys, hearts – and pickles, ferments, anchovies, and pig's ear. No PR machine. Two cooks, three tables, and a welcome that proves why small matters. Because Green Man Wines is one of the best wine shops in the world. Rajat Parr – the world's most revered blind-taster – walked into Green Man Wines in Terenure and, like every wine nerd, did a double take. More than 1,000 lines, from smaller producers who farm organically, biodynamically, 'naturally'. Wines with energy, not funk. Most fall into the €20-€40 range, though there are four-figure unicorns. Opened a decade ago by Dave Gallagher and his wife, the late Claire O'Boyle Gallagher, it still reflects their mix of obsession and warmth. All bottles can be opened on-site for €15 corkage. Dan Smith, formerly of Airfield Estate, is the chef in the wine bar (Thursday-Saturday), serving a rotating menu, built around small plates that pair with the wine. 'Wine Tasting Wednesdays' bring visiting winemakers pouring their bottles, with Dan riffing on the regional food. Traditional fish and chips served at Fish Shop in Dublin. Photograph: Ellius Grace/New York Times Because the world's best chefs treat Fish Shop like a local. The Smithfield room is tiny – two marble-topped counters, 15 stools, a chalkboard menu, and a killer wine list: Jura whites, grower Champagne, alpine Nebbiolo, island wines from the Med. Peter Hogan and Jumoke Akintola opened Fish Shop here in May 2016, following their Blackrock Market stall. The menu still includes their renowned fish and chips but has quietly grown. The rule remains: wild, Irish-caught fish and seafood only. No tuna, bream, sea bass, imported prawns. Grilled John Dory or brill are mainstays, alternatives include gurnard or red mullet. Shellfish from the Copper Coast – crab, shrimp, lobster, whelks – are delivered from Tramore by Peter, and Irish langoustines or tiny seasonal shrimp, depending on the catch. Famous chefs eat here, of course. International names, tipped off about our restaurant critic Corinna Hardgrave's favourite casual restaurant in Dublin. Good luck getting a seat. Because the Mushroom Butcher is Dublin's most original pop-up . Mark Senn, a Melbourne-born chef who once ran the short-lived Veginity and Vish, now grows and cooks mushrooms near Leonard's Corner in Dublin 8. Mushroom Butcher is his Saturday-only food truck – parked outside a converted retail unit where he and his partner, Ingrid Baceviciute, cultivate a dozen or so delicate, short-shelf-life mushroom varieties rarely seen in Ireland. Staples have included king oyster schnitzel, mushroom XO sauce with polenta chips, and a vegan bánh mì, and more recently, he's featured a series of themed menus – Brazilian, Japanese, Greek and Italian – all cooked to order. The mushrooms themselves are sold fresh and appear on menus at some of the country's best restaurants. No delivery. Just a hyper-focused weekly service that's growing something new – literally, from the ground up. Because Al Khair restaurant at the mosque on South Circular Road is an escape to another culture. At Al Khair, the canteen-style restaurant tucked behind the blue gates of the mosque on South Circular Road, hospitality means food – shared, abundant, unforgettable. Opened in 1985 by Mohammed Yousuf, now run by his son Junaid, the food is what he calls Indian with a 'gentle Pakistani influence', which in practice means you get the creamy warmth of paneer and dal, the deep spice of slow-cooked lamb, and the slap-you-awake heat of aubergine bharta when you ask for it spicy. The vegetarian samosas are wonderful. Because the new generation of cocktail bars rival the best in the world. When Dave Mulligan felt the city needed some old school night-time glamour, he reimagined the old Sackville Lounge off O'Connell Street. This old boozer still has that classic Dublin pub feel, but it's also new and sleek with a cocktail menu that will knock your socks off. But what else would you expect from head bartender Dave Taylor, who also oversees operations at nearby award-winning Bar 1661? This year, Bar 1661 represented the Irish cocktail scene at the prestigious Tales of the Cocktail in New Orleans, showcasing all that is great about Irish spirits and Irish drinks. Because of the secret table in Pepper Pot Café. Most Dubliners know about the pear and bacon sandwich in the Pepper Pot Cafe. (If you don't, and think pear and bacon come across as unlikely breadfellows, just try it.) Most of us also know the Pepper Pot is one of Dublin's best cafes for people watching, on the balcony in the Powerscourt Townhouse Centre overlooking the bustling hordes below. But our favourite place to perch is at the table we like to call the secret table. In a room away from the main seating areas, it's where the cafe's baking magic happens. Here you can eat your pear and bacon or equally lovely sausage sandwich while watching croissants being laminated and bagel dough being pulled. Now, like Doris Day's secret love, our secret table's no secret any more. But that's okay. We don't mind sharing.
BreakingNews.ie
20-07-2025
- Business
- BreakingNews.ie
Ryanair staff can earn up to €80 per month in bonuses for spotting oversized baggage
Ryanair staff can earn up to €80 a month in bonuses for catching passengers with oversized luggage. It comes after around 200,000 Ryanair passengers were hit with a €75 fine last year, and it has now emerged that staff can earn €1.50 for every oversized bag they catch. Advertisement The airline said the scheme helps reduce delays, but insists most passengers follow the rules. Consumer Affairs Correspondent, Conor Pope, doubts the policy will put people off from flying with Ryanair. Speaking on Newstalk, he said: "They have rules. They're not considered the most friendly airline in the world, but people know what they're getting, and they're happy with the service that Ryanair provides, generally speaking."
Irish Times
10-07-2025
- Irish Times
Would you want to be woken for an in-flight meal of rubbery pasta?
The question of whether passengers on long-haul Aer Lingus flights should be woken up for meals by cabin crew comes as close as you can get to the definition of a first-world problem. Nonetheless, it is a subject close to the hearts of many readers of this paper – and by extension the nation as a whole – if the interest shown in a recent article by Pricewatch editor Conor Pope is any guide. He told of a passenger on a transatlantic flight who was more than a little put out because she was not woken up for her meal. To make matters worse, the airline failed to feed her when she later went looking for food. 'When I tried to mention what happened as I disembarked I was told it was my own fault and I 'should have known'. I should have known not to sleep, I suppose,' the woman, Cathy, wrote. [ A sleeping passenger goes hungry on an Aer Lingus flight across the Atlantic Opens in new window ] Aer Lingus's eventual response was categorical and not very sympathetic: 'To ensure a restful experience, our cabin crew do not wake customers who are sleeping. For health and safety reasons, we are also unable to leave meals unattended at seats or reheat them later.' The national carrier can count itself lucky that the passenger in question was so reasonable. Last April an American Airlines flight from JKF to Italy was forced to turn around four hours out over the Atlantic after a passenger got upset over his meal. The problem was that he didn't get the meal choice he wanted, according to fellow passengers. READ MORE [ An Aer Lingus passenger's 26-hour trek home, and eventual refund Opens in new window ] There are two broad schools of thought on this not-quite existential dilemma. On one side you have those who subscribe to the view that: 'I paid for it, so I want it.' That rubbery pasta and mushy beef can engender such passion is a wonder in itself, but many of us would seem to prefer to be woken up for such delicacies rather than be left slumbering. The alternative view and the prevailing one – based on a small and highly selective sample – is that passengers should not be woken. Pretty much all airlines subscribe to the maxim of letting sleeping passengers lie, on the basis that people are more likely to be annoyed over being woken up during a flight rather than missing a meal. With incidents of air rage significantly on the rise post the Covid pandemic, according to the International Air Transport Association, it makes sense from an airline's perspective not to risk antagonising passengers. Flying can be a stressful experience for some, without being poked awake after finally falling asleep once the person behind stops kicking the back of the seat. Of course, the best way to cut down on air rage would be stop serving alcohol but no airline seems concerned enough to take that radical step. That said, hunger is also seen as one of the triggers for air rage and some airlines try to tread the middle path; offering do not disturb stickers or asking premium passengers if they want to be woken for their meals. Air rage is a serious issue but probably has as much to do with the coarsening of social norms as food or sleep. People are increasingly unrestrained, angry and rude to others in their everyday lives, so why not when they get on a flight? The full explanation for why airlines don't wake passengers for meals remains elusive (almost as elusive as the reason so many people seem to have strong feelings about the issue.) [ Should you give pocket money to your children? Conor Pope and Rachel O'Dwyer debate Opens in new window ] The answer is probably that it is a relatable problem. There doesn't seem to be any reliable figures for how many of us fly or how many have taken a long-haul flight, but all the data for numbers using airports and air traffic points to a nation that likes to travel. This is not that surprising given we live on an island. And so it's safe to assume we can all put ourselves in the seat of the woman who slept through her meal with Aer Lingus and woke up hungry. Whether passengers should be woken for meals may not be the most urgent issue unfolding in the world today, but it appears to divide the nation. As these things go, it must rank in the list of Irish schisms somewhere between how best to eat a Creme Egg and whether Roy Keane is a hero or a villain.
Irish Times
28-06-2025
- Politics
- Irish Times
What the new rent rules mean for landlords and tenants
The Government's emergency legislation aimed at making the whole State a Rent Pressure Zones (RPZs) has all the hallmarks of a rushed job. When first announced earlier this month the details seemed vague; renters and landlords were confused as to what it might mean for them; even Government officials called to explain the new measures in interview after interview, struggled. Irish Times consumer affairs correspondent Conor Pope regularly does reader call-outs, testing levels of consumer confusion and frustration. He asked for queries – from tenants and landlords – in relation to the new legislation with the promise that he would take these queries directly to the Department of Housing for clear answers. READ MORE This is what he learned. Presented by Bernice Harrison. Produced by Declan Conlon.
Irish Times
19-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
EuroMillions: Why winning €250m isn't all its cracked up to be
One thing is for sure: the National Lottery really knows how to keep the suspense going. When its counterparts in Europe told it that someone in Ireland had won the €250 million biggest prize ever in Tuesday's EuroMillions draw, the National Lottery spread the good news. Cue frantic ticket checking, day dreaming and fantasy shopping. On Wednesday morning, the lottery people said the ticket had been bought in a shop – so not online then. More hopes dashed for some, what ifs for others. READ MORE Later that afternoon it said the ticket had been bought in Munster . More drip, drip of news. And while we will soon hear where the ticket was bought, we may never know exactly who won the vast amount of money because he, she or they (it could be a syndicate) can – and most likely will – chose to remain anonymous. That's what most Irish EuroMillions winners have done. Until that Munster bombshell dropped, Irish Times consumer affairs correspondent Conor Pope kept his dream alive by not looking at his ticket. So what should the winner do? How easy is it to spend €250 million and does money really make you happy? Presented by Bernice Harrison. Produced by Declan Conlon.
