A Trip to Ireland, Chapter 4.
14th May 2026
Thursday dawned and I felt like getting out of the city. The weather forecast wasn’t that great but I decided on a trip to the seaside anyway so took a DART train south from Dublin to Bray. At Grand Canal Dock the station spans the water. This former dockland and gasworks where the Grand Canal joins the Liffey was very run down but has, like the Isle of Dogs in London in the 1980s, been transformed in the 21st century. Now it’s a tech hub, serving as a popular location for multinational technology firms such as Google, Facebook, X-Twitter, LinkedIn, and Airb’n’b as well as technology and consulting behemoth Accenture. I note that before the docks were built the area was associated with lepers. Make your own jokes.
Travelling south out of Dublin there were more blocks of flats and late 20th century buildings than I’d noticed travelling north the day before, though I was on the other side of the train. Just after Merrion the line reached the coast and ran all the way to Dun Laoghaire right beside the water. Through Booterstown the low concrete was separating the track from the water’s edge was continuously graffitied on the track side. That’s a hell of a lot of spray cans, though very little artistic talent displayed. Do better Irish Yoof.
I could see many ships out to sea, all heading north, presumably to Dublin’s docks. Through Dun Laoghaire and still beside the sea the sun came out - somewhat unexpectedly - and I got a view along the sweep of the coast backed by low mountains.
The sun was still out when I alighted at Bray Daly station and walked down the the seafront. It was also incredibly windy! It was a chill wind which meant my coat went back on very quickly as I walked along the promenade. Bray (Bré in Irish) is a proper seaside resort, planned in the 19th century, the railway from Dublin arrived in 1854. Foreign package holidays arrived in the late 20th century resulting in a decline in the towns fortunes but it remains a nice seaside town, not too big and brash. I could still see a queue of ships offshore. “We call that The Strait of Hormuz”, joked the man in the pink and white striped octagonal kiosk where I bought a coffee. We both hoped that the rain that was visible out there in the "Strait" wasn’t heading our way, he’d had to close up the day before due to the weather coming in through the hatches of the kiosk. I sought respite from the wind in a bunker like concrete shelter to drink my coffee.
At the far south end of the prom waves broke on the rocks of Bray Head and there was a brief rain shower. Most of the weather appeared to be staying out to sea and although a mass of dark cloud hovered inland behind the town it soon dried. I decided to follow the cliff top walk up and around Bray Head towards Greystones. So did about three score of noisy school students but they were headed up to the very top of the hill rather than along the cliff walk so soon there was just me. The sun was out, the views were extensive along the well made and mostly tarmac surfaced path and the seabirds plentiful. The Cormorants were sunning themselves on Seagull Rock, presumably clinging on tightly in order not to be carried off by the wind. Below the clifftop the DART trains ran in and out of short tunnels through the cliffs on their way to and from Greystones - just out of Visitor Leap card range alas.
I might have continued all the way to Greystones but after about a mile the path is closed due to significant safety concerns following a number of landslides. There is a big metal gate with warning signs on and many signs and stickers demanding that the route be reopened. There is a big metal fence. There is also a big hole in the fence and an arrow pointing along the very edge of the cliff. Nope, I returned the way I’d come back to Bray. I hope the Bray to Greystones Cliff Walk does get re-opened, from the bit I saw it’s a lovely little trek and ideal with a railway station at each end.
Despite the good surface of the path it was still necessary to watch your step, for many people in Ireland clearing up your dog’s shit doesn’t seem to be a thing. Walking down the hill into Bray I passed three tents on the grass slopes above the town, evidence of the homelessness problem that affects Dublin and the surrounding area. I saw quite a lot of “bin divers” in the city too. The “Emerald Isle” is not isolated from the 21st century social problems of the rest of Europe, including sadly the all too familiar anti-immigrant campaigners 🙁
On a happier note the seaside chips that I had when I got back to the prom at Bray were actual real, fresh-cut not frozen, and absolutely delicious. The gulls stayed away too 😀
Bray had become busier. There were many tongues being spoken because I seemed to have picked a day when foreign school parties had decided it was time to visit Bray. I went to the Spar shop on the seafront to get a bottle of pop, it was a bit chaotic in there, for once I was glad for the self-scan checkouts. In spite of the big black clouds forming in the north I went for a look at the harbour. I got very wet.
I headed back to the railway station. The sun came out. Make your mind up Ireland!
Bray Daly station has an excellent set of murals along the southbound platform depicting the history of the station. I boarded the northbound DART train. Two score of teenage students boarded the train followed by two teachers. “I counted 42” “I counted 45” “Where are the others?” “No! Get on this coach!” “GET ON THIS COACH!” I got off the train and re-boarded at the other end where it was quieter. Except for the weird god-botherer sodcasting religious sermons from his phone.
I alighted at Sandycove & Glasthule, the southern of Dun Laoghaire’s two stations and walked to the harbour. Much of the seafront, around the Baths and harbour looks newly developed with a lot of clean smooth concrete. Development seems to be ongoing with apparently empty units.
I re-boarded the DART at Dun Laoghaire Mallin station and returned to Dublin Connolly, reaching my hotel room at about a quarter to four. A quarter of an hour later the windows were loudly battered by big hailstones for about five minutes. Ireland had produced all the weather today.
Later I walked down to Madigan’s in Earl Street for a last Irish dinner. On the way heads were turned by the sound of a bottle smashing on the pavement and two (or possibly three) drunks squaring up for a bout of fisticuffs. A crowd began to form as a strange circulating dance commenced, the protagonists throwing throwing punches which didn’t connect while shouting “come on then!” at each other. Peak Dublin and it wasn’t yet 7 p.m. 😂
By nine o’clock I’d headed back to my hotel through the dusk, full of Beef & Guinness Stew (and three pints of Guinness). There I backed up the day’s photos, watched some YouTube, had a cup of tea, and fell soundly asleep.
Despite the squealing trains.
