How could it be that the Irish capital, with its population advantage over the rest of the island, has failed to challenge at the top level of hurling in the same manner that it has come to dominate Gaelic football?
The stories told by working-class women in inner-city Dublin that are included in Kevin C. Kearns’ book have acquired a new resonance in contemporary Ireland.
Dublin used to have a civic museum on South William Street, but it closed for renovations 15 years ago and has never reopened.
Some councillors have long wanted the room in the old Rathmines Town Hall opened up for wider use.
Methods of serving periwinkles have changed over time. Traditionally, though, they are boiled in seawater and the fleshy meat is pulled out with a pin.
It would be the “height of insensitivity” if he doesn’t, when he stops in the neighbourhood later this month, says Social Democrats Councillor Gary Gannon.
During his Ireland tour, the author and former slave found “receptive audiences keen to link their own political aspirations to his”.
Patrick Byrne was a purveyor of incendiary ideas on eighteenth-century Grafton Street.
The owner says that he has always respected its historical significance, but that he needs to make changes to turn it into housing.
For years, Billy McGuire has performed the annual ceremony at Mansion House, which he says confirms Ireland’s sovereignty. That tradition may now have come to an end.
More than any other individual, it was the great Jackie Carey – hailing from Dublin’s north side – who turned the Irish public onto British football, writes a historian.
