Wrong side of the road

After having lived in Ireland for two years (and never found the nerve to hire a car at a Dublin car rental), I was totally bent on taking driving lessons in London: I wanted to be confident driving on what for me is the "wrong side of the road". Two and a half years have gone in London too, and I'm still at the starting point.

Admittedly, London has quite spoilt me: public transports work well and reach every corner of the city, both day and night time, so I've never really felt the need of having a car. However, since I drive when I'm home (I'm not Schumacher, let's say I can get the car move), I wanted to try, at least. But first I needed to learn how to behave as a pedestrian, and this didn't really depend on Dublin driving side.

When I moved to Ireland in 2005, it took me a while to understand where I was supposed to watch before crossing the road. Once, I was crossing a little street on my way to work and the biggest bus I can remember was about to hit me, when two heaven-sent hands grabbed me and kept me on the sidewalk.

Since that day, many times I promised in vain I would have paid extra attention when crossing the road in Dublin. And everywhere else, actually, I think I recall similar events when I lived in Rome, too.

After two years in London, my pedestrian behaviour has remained pretty much inalterated: a couple of times, I risked to be run over by a motorbike. Maybe it's after the last event that I've started being a little more careful on the street. A little, because everything is achieved step by step. 

Again, I was going to work (I could stop this, for a start) and I crossed a road drilled by the ever-present work in progress. Visibility was rather reduced by a bus just on my left, but I darted towards the other side of the road, all the same. Suddenly, I heard a motorbike break: I froze in the middle of the street, looked left, the rider, pale, froze too, for a couple of seconds the traffic stopped. I slowly realised I was still alive and all in one piece so, in a cold sweat, I reached the opposite sidewalk.

I'm not sure when, and if, I'll get used to the wrong side of the road. The good news is that I'll be probably leaving London for good this time, and I'm thinking about heading somewhere where cars keep the "right side".

Malahide, Irish-style beaches and castles

Big cities aside, Ireland can offer great pieces of natural beauty. Somehow, it reminds me of Sardinia: wild nature, most landscapes are completely unspoilt, not everything is "planned", at least not the way it is in the UK.

I admit, I haven't travelled extensively in Ireland, but I did enjoy good walks along Dublin's nearest coasts, such as Howth, Dun Laoghaire or Malahide.

The latter is not just a seaside resort (also because saying "seaside resort" in Ireland is a bit extreme), but a proper little town, residential and nicely kept. Like many of Irish exclusive spots, also in Malahide there is a castle, and like many of Irish sites, when I went, it was closed.

Nevermind, I enjoyed soaking up the surroundings of green, sand, sea and ducks. I went by bus, but you can go by DART, cycle or hire a car at Dublin car rental, so that you'll have the possibility to move quickly from an area to another one. I've walked all day to manage to see all attractions and it was a big walk, indeed!

When I went, it was summer, but I wouldn't have ever been able to sunbathe. In fact, there was very little sun and some rain threat. However, the beaches were full of families, kids, dogs running, playing, shouting.

Ireland, like the UK, has a peculiarity: if it doesn't rain, streets, parks, beaches get instantly packed with people busy in all kinds of outdoor activities. And this happened when I went to Malahide: with a slightly different perception of "summer", Irish people were enjoying a break from the rain that had come down heavy throughout the winter.

The atmosphere in the town is vibrant: concerts are often organised, there is a state-of-the-art golf course and water sports are among the most adored outdoor activities.

It might not be the hottest holiday destination, but by all means a sound alternative to Dublin life, little traffic and a more chilled out pace.

Glendalough, a walk through mystery

One of the best places to visit around Dublin is Glendalough, no doubt. I suggest anybody who goes to Ireland to devote half a day to this mysterious spot. You can either go by coach (it takes an hour) or hire a car at Dublin car rental.

Glendalough (Gleann Dá Loch, “Valley of the Two Lakes”) is a suggestive monastic site set within beautiful natural surroundings. The settlement was founded by St. Kevin, a monk who died around 618 AC.

It consists of seven churches, set, in fact, in a valley with two lakes. The visitor is welcomed by an old cemetery spread-out around the main church. Walking deeper inside the valley, it's a tangle of small bridges crossing the river that leads toward the lakes, making the whole scenario a quaint yesteryear village.

The atmosphere is one of austerity, and it couldn't be otherwise, since St. Kevin was a hermit monk, or at least this is how it started. As a boy, he studied in a Catholic circle and decided to start his life as a hermit in Glendalough. After a while, he returned there with a group of followers, and I believe that was the time when the site was built.

Apparently, St. Kevin lived a life of hardships and privations, barely eating and sleeping on stones, no matter what season, and in Ireland does get cold, maybe in the past more than today. However, it seems like he wanted to apply the principles he read in the Bible, of the Christ living in poverty, precepts that maybe the Pope should freshen up between a Mass and a dinner.

In its heyday, Glendalough was a very lively centre: in here, in fact, were not only monastic cells but also workshops, guesthouses, farms and an infirmary. Now, it looks like a fascinating ghost town.

When I think of Catholic rules applied in Ireland, I can't avoid recalling the movie "Magdalene's Sisters" because it frightened me and, what's even worse, I was told that those types of monasteries were closed less than twenty years ago.

After several attacks, the site was constantly rebuilt, and now we can see it in pretty good conditions. I've always been attracted by Celtic traditions, and although this is a pretty Catholic spot, it nevertheless reflects the culture it was built in.

I remember with real pleasure my walk through these ancient ruines, and I would suggest it to anybody planning a trip to Dublin. 

Howth, soaking in nature

One of the nicest trips I've made when I lived in Ireland was in Howth. I went to Dublin's car rental and made my way towards the city's northeastern coast, in the quest for "the best salmon in the area".

As soon as I got there, I was offered the cutest sight ever: seals happily approaching tourists who were feeding them in the harbour. I had already swum side by side with dolphins in the Amazon River, but had never seen seals before.

Lucky me, it was a beautifully sunny and clear day, so I started trekking along the cliffs toward the tower on top of the mountain. I'm never very well trained (I know, I should be, shame on me), so I was breathless in less than no minute. Nevermind, I kept going, took it easy and eventually got to the top.

The unfolding panorama was fantastic, really, and not just from the top, but after every step I made, I could stare at a different view and take a different picture.

However, the cliffs and the sea are not the only reasons why a trip di Howth is worthwhile. The little town has in fact interesting heritage sites to visit, such as St. Mary's Church.

My guidebook in my hands, I started descending to the harbour. There was the port to visit, but since it was Sunday, just beside I could see the stalls of an openair market, so I guessed I would have wanted to stay a bit longer than planned, and decided to head to the old church before.

Needless to say, although I had a map, I couldn't find it. I asked everybody who come my way and after countless directions, hints, back and forth along godforsaken roads, I got there. "At last," I thought. "This must be really worth my efforts!" I had read it was built in 1042 by Dublin's King and redecorated or re-built altogether around 1235, so I couldn't wait to study such a piece of Irish history, so morbidly Catholic. I'm sure it was worth it, but I found it closed. And the sad is that I never got to go back again.

It was still early to go back home, so I wandered around the market selling local products from different European countries: great Polish bread, good Italian specialities from Calabria region, of course Irish delicacies.

I hardly resist when I find local specialities, so I bought some and headed back home, happy about my outing and with the promise to go back to see the Church some time in the future.

What to visit beyond Dublin

I'll never forget (and always regret for not having photographed) a postcard picturing a skeleton at the bus stop, with the underlying caption: Dublin bus.

Having lived in Dublin for two years, I can say that postcard gets pretty well to the point. Some buses pass regularly, but others never come. The worst thing ever when you leave home in the morning and get to the stop, is seeing your bus leaving: you are going to be late.

Dublin city centre is quite walkable, but if you are to stay longer than a week, you can't miss visiting the villages around the outskirts, such as Howth, Malahide, Dun Laoghaire, and for a more comfortable tour, your best best is to go to a car hire in Dublin. By relying on pricey public transports, journeying through the towns around Dublin can take you days, instead, by driving you keep your own pace and visit much more.

Howth is a little fishing village that offers truly breathtaking views, and restaurants serve the best salmon in the area. On Sunday there is also a little openair market with stands selling homemade products, not only Irish: I found a delicious Polish bread with many cereals.

If you ever go to Howth, get fit before: you can't miss climbing the sheer cliff up to the tower, it's a great, properly thrilling stroll.


In Malahide, besides the lovely beaches, there is a beautiful castle, inhabited by the Talbot family for some eight centuries. If you have time and feel like driving, a very suggestive spot is definitely Glendalough.


I went to Glendalough by coach and I spent there a whole day. Truly amazing, the tour starts at an old cemetery, with a tiny old church that reminds me of the movie Magdalene's Sisters about the past Catholic zealotry of the Irish people.


Going beyond the graveyard, there is a countryside path with a river equipped with many bridges, two lakes, wildlife and seldom heritage sites, all contributing in giving the impression of a bucolic walk where modernity hasn't arrived yet.


Of course the dream suddenly stops when you get to the end of the itinerary and find yourself in front of fast-food stands releasing the smell of freshly made sandwiches.


The trip to Glendalough really impressed me, even if there's no museum or castle to visit, and I surely recommend it to anyone who plans a holiday in Dublin.

Dublin, Dubliners and modernity

I've lived in Dublin for two years and I have to say, I don't miss it that much. The famous Irish friendliness is not really a Dublin attraction and is more likely to be found in other parts of Ireland, such as down in the south or west, like Galway and the Aran Islands.

Dublin and Dubliners are very peculiar. I've always been fascinated by the Celtic culture and was definitely disappointed by the lack of character in the Irish capital. In fact, I've only found the common European city, with no particularly striking personality and a strong will to emulate London.

I've ended up in Dublin four years ago because I expatriated with a friend of mine who had been there when she was 14 and has dreamt about it since. When first she went, Temple Bar didn't exist, and her passion stemmed more from the Cliffs of Moher than Dublin itself. But for obvious reasons, it was much handier living in Dublin than on the Cliffs.

The first impact with the city and its inhabitants has been funny, parties almost every night, meeting friends was the easiest of the tasks, a great complicity among foreigners, connected by our common status of expats who, for a reason or the other, shared the same difficulties.

The first thing tourists notice (and how couldn't they) as soon as they arrive in the city centre, is the Spire, a huge metallic, horrendous thing that rests in the middle of O'Connell Street, just before the River Liffey that divides the town into the "rough" North and the "posh" South.

Once overcome the shock of the Spire, tourists are left with a handful of interesting sights to explore, among which are noteworthy the Castle, the (tiny) Writers' Museum, Trinity College, Stephens' Green Park, Joyce House, Guinness Storehouse.

I don't like beer and I'm a major fan of literature and history, but I have to say that among all Dublin attractions, the one that impressed me the most is definitely the Guinness Storehouse: they organise the tour perfectly, and visitors have the opportunity to see how the beer is made and to trace the history of this national pride. At the end of the tour, beer lovers will be pleased to receive a complimentary pint of freshly made Guinness. Definitely, highly recommended (no, this is not a sponsored post).

Seemingly, Temple Bar is the tourism icon. Built in a mock-antique style, it's actually very recent and the best definition for it is "a cluster of pubs". You can also stumble on ethnic, little clothes shops, but besides the street artists, there's not much to see. It's mainly a night-time attraction, but beware: the weekend all pubs are packed, most people are drunk and there is a good chance you'll need to work somebody over in order to reach out the bar and have your pint.

Modern Dublin definitely misses the cheerful atmosphere created by local artists playing traditional music, and is a telling evidence that sacrificing old customs in the name of modernity doesn't always work.