People & Community

It’s a fine brisk November morning when Dublin.ie meets up with Ed Boden at his office in Blessington Basin, the north side’s secret park. But we are not here to talk about Ed’s job as chief of parks today. No, we are talking about another curious string to Ed’s professional bow. Curious, quirky and colourful. Because Ed is the Dublin City Council vexillologist. “He’s the what?” I hear you say. Well join the club, I said it myself. But if you are stuck for the answer, we’ll give you a clue. A clue that comes from a recent Nobel Laureate who told us “The answer my friend is blowing in the wind, the answer is blowing in the wind.” Flags. It’s unlikely Dy

A closer look at Skerries North of Dublin city, you’ll find the seaside town of Skerries. Bustling in summer months, the beaches are full to the brim with tourists and city dwellers looking to dip a toe in the sea. However, Irish seaside towns take on a different vibe during the autumnal months and Skerries is still worth the excursion beyond September. A seaside town that’s worth its salt all year round Towards the end of the year, you’ll still find plenty of people braving the wind for a stroll along the seafront. The sea air, a tried and tested cure for what ails ya, feels just as good in your lungs in November as it does in July. The name S

Just to be clear, the position of Historian in residence doesn’t come with an actual residence. ‘More’s the pity’, says Cathy Scuffil, who is the Historian in Residence for that LA-sounding bit of Dublin known as ‘South Central’. This is one of the six sectors of Dublin – each based on electoral districts – that now have their own historian. Tara Doyle of Dublin City Council runs the programme, which builds on the success of the 1916 commemorations and a surge in interest in history in general. She sums it up very simply: ‘it’s all about letting historians talk to people about history’. This doesn’t mean that it’s simple to do, however. 

Jane Jacobs, the doyenne of urban planning, believed that the success of any city owed a lot to the “intricacy of pavement use, bringing with it a constant succession of eyes”. She wrote, in The Death and Life of Great American Cities: “There must be eyes upon the street, eyes belonging to those we might call the natural proprietors of the street. The buildings on a street equipped to handle strangers, and to ensure the safety of both residents and strangers, must be oriented to the street. They cannot turn their backs or blank sides on it and leave it blind.” However, what happens when the residents and strangers are themselves blind to the

They’re a group of lads from around the Liberties. Late teens to early 20s, bustling with animation. Bit of slagging about who is going to talk to Dublin.ie. Probably a bit of slagging about the guy from Dublin.ie. But these are decent guys. You could probably place a safe bet that one or two of them might be no stranger to a bit of mischief in their day. So what they are up to takes you a little bit by surprise. If someone outside the gate told you that these guys were making salad bowls inside the yard, “get up the yard!” would be your likely response. But this is the Yard Crew, part of the Solas Project. The

You may not realise it, but Capel Street is one of Dublin’s most historically significant streets. It doesn’t appear in tourist guides as much as O’Connell Street or Grafton Street, but it’s definitely worth spending some time here. The history of Capel Street Back in the 17th century, Capel Street was a fundamental part of Dublin’s expansion north of the river Liffey by Sir Humphrey Jervis.

Mary Louise ‘Maz’ Reilly, a sports development officer with Dublin City Council, plays rugby for Ireland. She was on the Grand Slam-winning side of 2013 and plays in her third World Cup tournament, hosted by Ireland, this month. It was always soccer and Gaelic football at home. No one played rugby. One day a friend asked me to jump in and give a dig out and I was like ‘there is not a hope, that sport is way too rough’. Anyway, she got the better of me and I got involved and realised that I actually really enjoyed rugby. For me, in work, it’s the same thing. Whether I’m out cha

I used to live a pretty isolated life. I’m not saying that my past was a straight line to Men’s Shed in Ireland but it definitely played a big part in my empathy for those who needed our services. I was an only child of a farming family and in my mid 20’s I ended up being a farmer too. I never wanted to be a farmer. It was just the obvious choice. The area was nice, really quiet, not much happening at all. So, I partied too much, I got into drink and drugs and it was very bad for my health. Farming was like that for me. I felt unhappy and isolated all the time. I badly needed something to change and I guess when I turned 27, I was in the right place then. I had devel

The popularity of spoken word is on the rise in Dublin and one of the stars of the scene is Elayne Harrington, AKA Temper-Mental MissElayneous. She’s a rapper and slam poet from Finglas and a standout female performer on a male-dominated scene. Dublin.ie first saw Elayne perform at a women’s storytelling night in Temple Bar’s Project Arts Centre. With her trademark hairdo of curlers in her fringe, the bold red lips and her warrior stance, she was defiant and gutsy. She set her words to the beat of h

I used to work in very tech heavy jobs, consulting with big tech companies like Capgemini and Avnet. Back then I was one of the first people amongst my peers to get an iPhone and iPad for use with work. I enjoyed the luxury of being able to follow up on emails from the comfort of my home and get the updates about ongoing projects instantly; but after a while realised that overuse of tech was having a serious impact on my productivity and wellbeing. As the borders between ‘at work’ and being ‘off’ began to vanish I started having issues with sleep and my relationships as I spent too much time online. I needed a change so badly that I decided to move sectors just to

On one count at least, the GPO is a disappointment to its visitors. ‘People come in looking for a big green post box. it’s a bit of let-down when I tell them there isn’t one’, says security guard David, who’s from Peckham but has Irish roots.

4pm. O’Connell St. And it sounds like a Beckett play. Doom and gloom. Sitting and waiting. Waiting. Waiting for customers. “I suppose a fella gets to sit and read the paper all day. That’s what it’s come to,” says Austin Cregan, the third generation of his family to sell papers and magazines on the capital’s main street. Sitting in his kiosk near the Abbey St corner, Austin reaches behind him and takes out a laminated 2008 article from the Irish Times. It’s all about him and his father’s and grandfather’s life selling newspapers from the kiosk. “Read that,” he says to Dublin.ie. “Everything is in that. Excep