Dún Laoghaire is as nice a spot as one might ever find on the east coast of Ireland. When the writer GR Powell landed at the port in 1853, he remarked on the fine proportions of the buildings and the verdant gardens which separated the residences from the sea. In those days, Dún Laoghaire still went by the English name of Kingstown, a colonial imposition dating back three decades and recalling King George IV’s visit to Ireland in 1821.
The king was the first English monarch to visit Ireland unaccompanied by an army. It’s unlikely the new monarch’s visit was driven by any burning desire to serve Ireland. His voyage west on the royal yacht was more a matter of escaping the kerfuffle in London following the death of Princess Caroline of Brunswick in suspicious circumstances. There was widespread speculation in the salons of the capital and on the streets that George had arranged for his spouse to be poisoned. The English, always willing to take advantage of Ireland, sent their king off on an official visit. The king arrived in Ireland, filled his ample belly with goose and Irish whiskey, and then departed from Dún Laoghaire three weeks later. After that, Dún Laoghaire promptly morphed into Kingstown.
For 200 years, this port about a dozen kilometres south of Dublin, was the first and last glimpse of Ireland for many travellers.
There are Irish ports which are closer to Great Britain. The shortest distance across the North Channel, which separates two Scottish mulls (Galloway and Kintyre) from Ireland is hardly more than a score of kilometres. But the roundabout route from London to Dublin via Scotland was arduous and time consuming, so the principal flows of trade and travellers to Ireland routed via North Wales to Dublin — generally relying on the sea crossing from Holyhead (on the island of Anglesey) to Dún Laoghaire, a sailing distance just a shade over one hundred kilometres.
Dún Laoghaire was more than merely a port through which thousands of travellers passed en route to and from Dublin. It thrived on sea trade and developed to become one of the most desirable of Dublin suburbs.
Bradshaw, in his splendid railway guide of 1860, remarked that passengers taking the boat to Ireland from Anglesey might enjoy fine mountain views, for hardly have the summits of Snowdonia receded into the distance to the east than the hills of Wicklow hove into view on the western horizon. For Bradshaw, as indeed for Powell a few years earlier, the steam packet from Anglesey to Kingstown was the natural route to Ireland. The steamers, Powell reminded his readers, “are splendid boats, commanded by gentlemen of great skill, courage and experience.” Those ferries, Powell suggested, were “one of the chief attractions of Kingstown.”
Dún Laoghaire was more than merely a port through which thousands of travellers passed en route to and from Dublin. It thrived on sea trade and developed to become one of the most desirable of Dublin suburbs. The “gaiety of life around the jetty” and “the rippling of the sleepless tide” (both fine Powell affectations) combined to make Dún Laoghaire a charmed spot.
The merchants who lived in Dún Laoghaire’s gracious villas and splendid residences relied on the port’s Welsh connections while around the harbour the soft lilt of Anglesey voices contrasted with the local Irish accents. There was more than a hint of Wales around the town. One of the smartest hotels, one much commended by Powell, was the Anglesey Arms right by the port. Powell’s enthusiasm for the place may have been influenced by the fact that the hotel took out a handsome advert in his guide. The advertisement noted that the hotel was “frequented by nobility and first-class gentry” although the upper crust claims were offset by an adjacent advert promoting the Turkish baths in Dublin
Lost connections
Almost two centuries after King George escaped London rumours for the quiet of Ireland, affluent Dublin commuters stream south at the end of the working day to the erstwhile ferry port at Dún Laoghaire. But the packet steamers to Wales are long gone. The stately lighthouse and the stylish Victorian bandstand capture the essence of a community that once ranked as an important way station for generations of travellers. In 2015, the last ferry to Anglesey sailed from Dún Laoghaire, since when the quaysides have been silent. Stena Line now runs its Anglesey ferries into Dublin Ferryport — just like its competitor Irish Ferries on the route from Wales to Dublin Bay.
As if to reinforce Stena’s commercial decision, Storm Emma pounded the Dún Laoghaire seafront in March 2018 causing considerable damage. In autumn, the failing finances of the harbour company — until then a private sector venture — led to it being taken over by the local council. With the first warm spring days this year, crowds of Dubliners will head down to Dún Laoghaire for the statutory ice cream at Teddy’s, but no longer are there lines of luggage-laden travellers queuing for the ferry to Wales. Even the Anglesey Arms has had to move with the times. No longer being quite so popular with the “nobility and first-class gentry” cited in Powell’s guide, this fine Georgian building is now being converted into chic executive apartments where a sea view and an easy commute to Dublin by train will surely attract many buyers.
Meanwhile, the local council struggles to develop a viable plan to capitalise on what was once Dún Laoghaire’s key asset: an excellent, well protected harbour which is just a short voyage from Wales. “Close to Wales,” one councillor is reported to have remarked. “But a long way from France.” It’s a telling point as Ireland reshapes its horizons and now looks more to the European Union and ever less to Britain.
