The sixth walk of my "Nine Walks of Dublin" series is the Royal Canal Way.
The Royal Canal (An Chanáil Ríoga) is a canal originally built for freight and passenger transportation from the River Liffey to Longford, connecting the canal to the upper River Shannon. Work began in 1790 and was completed in 1817. The canal is 146 km long. You can hike the whole thing (they say it takes three days), but we just explored a bit of the North Side of Dublin via the canal's toe-path.
Two online guides pointed me in the direction of the Royal Canal Way.
The first online guide encourages the walker that the Royal Canal Way is "ideally suited for some serious stretching of legs after a long flight. For a brisk walk of little more than four hours (or eleven miles) simply follow the Royal Canal, starting at Newcomen Bridge (North Strand Road)."
The second online guide is a fantastic history of Irish waterways. In his site, he spells out a "suggestion for a one-day walk around Dublin, taking in parts of the Royal Canal, the Grand Canal, the Liffey and several alehouses, with passing reference to railways and other sights. The tour does not take in every interesting section of the Dublin waterways, and might be thought to concentrate unduly on waterways that no longer exist, but I think it makes for a good day out."
Here's his map of the route he suggests:
His route ends with the Guinness factory and includes the following disclaimer: "I’m afraid I have no idea how long that will take, but it’s easily doable within a day, even with many pauses. If you do the walk, and time it, do please report back."
Both of the online routes start in basically the same way: Connolly Station to Newcomen Bridge.
"This bridge just a few minutes walk from Connolly Station is the ideal starting point. The Royal Canal has just left the industrial harbor area and runs westwards from here. And the charming Lockkeeper's Cottage at the 1st Lock will have you smiling as you follow the footpath towards the futuristic structures of Croke Park."
After you pass beneath Clark's Bridge the "Croker" will tower above you, a fitting monument to the enormous role the Gaelic Athletic Association plays in Ireland's public life.
"The path will then lead you via Clonliffe Bridge and Binn's Bridge to the other side of the Royal Canal, the 2nd Lock and a charming statue of Brendan Behan. The well-known poet and drinker is depicted in conversation with a bird on a bench, sit down between them and have a word with the local pigeons yourself."
I love a city that has statues erected for poets, even alcoholic poets (Behan described himself as "a drinker with a writing problem" and claimed "I only drink on two occasions—when I'm thirsty and when I'm not.").
As we approached the statue, a man sat there, surrounded by empty beer cans and, clearly, a bag of his stuff.
I wanted to take a look at the bench though.
As we approached, I excused myself and offered him a Euro to move all of his crapola so that I could take a gander and a few pictures.
He was lovely.
Only in Dublin would there a) be a homeless drunkard sitting on a statue bench of a drunkard poet and b) would said homeless drunkard refuse a euro in the name of a tourist wanting a photo of said drunkard poet bench.*
I carefully lined up all of his dead soldiers and bag of stuff to the right and let myself take in the statue. The man stood aside unapologetically and let me do this. Then he seemed to look on the statue with me with a sort of proud, knowing understanding that we were, somehow, in the midst of greatness, not just of the poet, Behan, but of the statue itself and its commemoration.
It was gorgeous.
The triangles stand for a verse written by Behan's brother in the song The Auld Triangle (re-recorded by many including the Dropkick Murphys):
And the auld triangle went jingle jangle, All along the banks of the Royal Canal.
The pigeon on the statue is the cherry on top.
As we left, our friend settled back in. One needed to remind herself that the Behan image was only a statue, not a patient confidant to a recently down-on-his-luck guy, sharing a beer on a bench along the Royal Canal on a sunny afternoon in Drumcondra.
At this point, we hopped back in our car and headed to the other canal in the city, this one on the South Side of Dublin, the Grand Canal, for a look there as well.
On the Grand Canal, you can find another poet's statute along a different canal: Patrick Kavanagh.
Apparently Kavanagh, suffering from lung cancer in 1955, would walk along the Grand Canal. He wrote a sonnet, Advent, that conveyed his sense of wonderment and awe regarding the waterway. In particular, he wrote about the place where the statue now sits: around Baggot Street near Leeson Street.
He describes couples kissing on a bench and the waterway being
I'm closing with one from Kavanagh as recommended by Dervla who studied English for her leaving cert:
Memory of my Father
*Upon hearing this story, Dervla shared one of her dad's experiences with the homeless in Dublin. For months on his way to work at one point in his life he would pass the same man, obviously homeless, on the street. The man never directly asked for money but would sort of poke at you when you would walk by. Her dad never gave the man money, but at some point he had an extra tener in his pocket and for some reason decided to give it to him. The man responded in the following way: "Who the EFF do you think you are? EFFING Santa Claus???" (Expletives changed.)**
**I want to get an oral history recording of him telling us this story.
The Royal Canal (An Chanáil Ríoga) is a canal originally built for freight and passenger transportation from the River Liffey to Longford, connecting the canal to the upper River Shannon. Work began in 1790 and was completed in 1817. The canal is 146 km long. You can hike the whole thing (they say it takes three days), but we just explored a bit of the North Side of Dublin via the canal's toe-path.
Two online guides pointed me in the direction of the Royal Canal Way.
The first online guide encourages the walker that the Royal Canal Way is "ideally suited for some serious stretching of legs after a long flight. For a brisk walk of little more than four hours (or eleven miles) simply follow the Royal Canal, starting at Newcomen Bridge (North Strand Road)."
The second online guide is a fantastic history of Irish waterways. In his site, he spells out a "suggestion for a one-day walk around Dublin, taking in parts of the Royal Canal, the Grand Canal, the Liffey and several alehouses, with passing reference to railways and other sights. The tour does not take in every interesting section of the Dublin waterways, and might be thought to concentrate unduly on waterways that no longer exist, but I think it makes for a good day out."
Here's his map of the route he suggests:
His route ends with the Guinness factory and includes the following disclaimer: "I’m afraid I have no idea how long that will take, but it’s easily doable within a day, even with many pauses. If you do the walk, and time it, do please report back."
Both of the online routes start in basically the same way: Connolly Station to Newcomen Bridge.
"This bridge just a few minutes walk from Connolly Station is the ideal starting point. The Royal Canal has just left the industrial harbor area and runs westwards from here. And the charming Lockkeeper's Cottage at the 1st Lock will have you smiling as you follow the footpath towards the futuristic structures of Croke Park."
 |
| The start of the Royal Canal Way at Lock 1. |
 |
| Lock 1 |
 |
| The lockkeeper's cottage. |
After you pass beneath Clark's Bridge the "Croker" will tower above you, a fitting monument to the enormous role the Gaelic Athletic Association plays in Ireland's public life.
 |
| Croke Park just beyond Clark's bridge. |
 |
| Croke Park approaching. |
 |
| Croke Park |
 |
| Guinness advertisement near Croke Park. Notice the hurley lifting the stadium. |
I love a city that has statues erected for poets, even alcoholic poets (Behan described himself as "a drinker with a writing problem" and claimed "I only drink on two occasions—when I'm thirsty and when I'm not.").
As we approached the statue, a man sat there, surrounded by empty beer cans and, clearly, a bag of his stuff.
I wanted to take a look at the bench though.
As we approached, I excused myself and offered him a Euro to move all of his crapola so that I could take a gander and a few pictures.
He was lovely.
Only in Dublin would there a) be a homeless drunkard sitting on a statue bench of a drunkard poet and b) would said homeless drunkard refuse a euro in the name of a tourist wanting a photo of said drunkard poet bench.*
I carefully lined up all of his dead soldiers and bag of stuff to the right and let myself take in the statue. The man stood aside unapologetically and let me do this. Then he seemed to look on the statue with me with a sort of proud, knowing understanding that we were, somehow, in the midst of greatness, not just of the poet, Behan, but of the statue itself and its commemoration.
It was gorgeous.
The triangles stand for a verse written by Behan's brother in the song The Auld Triangle (re-recorded by many including the Dropkick Murphys):
The pigeon on the statue is the cherry on top.
As we left, our friend settled back in. One needed to remind herself that the Behan image was only a statue, not a patient confidant to a recently down-on-his-luck guy, sharing a beer on a bench along the Royal Canal on a sunny afternoon in Drumcondra.
At this point, we hopped back in our car and headed to the other canal in the city, this one on the South Side of Dublin, the Grand Canal, for a look there as well.
On the Grand Canal, you can find another poet's statute along a different canal: Patrick Kavanagh.
Apparently Kavanagh, suffering from lung cancer in 1955, would walk along the Grand Canal. He wrote a sonnet, Advent, that conveyed his sense of wonderment and awe regarding the waterway. In particular, he wrote about the place where the statue now sits: around Baggot Street near Leeson Street.
Pouring redemption for me, that I do
The will of God, wallow in the habitual, the banal,
Grow with nature again as before I grew.
The will of God, wallow in the habitual, the banal,
Grow with nature again as before I grew.
He describes couples kissing on a bench and the waterway being
'Leafy-with-love banks and the green waters of the canal
Pouring redemption for me
Pouring redemption for me
 |
| Check out the knit-bomb on the tree in the background. |
 |
| Isn't that hat exquisite? |
Memory of my Father
Every old man I see
Reminds me of my father
When he had fallen in love with death
One time when sheaves were gathered.
That man I saw in Gardner Street
Stumbled on the kerb was one,
He stared at me half-eyed,
I might have been his son.
And I remember the musician
Faltering over his fiddle
In Bayswater, London,
He too set me the riddle.
Every old man I see
In October-coloured weather
Seems to say to me:
"I was once your father."
Reminds me of my father
When he had fallen in love with death
One time when sheaves were gathered.
That man I saw in Gardner Street
Stumbled on the kerb was one,
He stared at me half-eyed,
I might have been his son.
And I remember the musician
Faltering over his fiddle
In Bayswater, London,
He too set me the riddle.
Every old man I see
In October-coloured weather
Seems to say to me:
"I was once your father."
*Upon hearing this story, Dervla shared one of her dad's experiences with the homeless in Dublin. For months on his way to work at one point in his life he would pass the same man, obviously homeless, on the street. The man never directly asked for money but would sort of poke at you when you would walk by. Her dad never gave the man money, but at some point he had an extra tener in his pocket and for some reason decided to give it to him. The man responded in the following way: "Who the EFF do you think you are? EFFING Santa Claus???" (Expletives changed.)**
**I want to get an oral history recording of him telling us this story.
there are rougue knitters affixing things in our neighborhood, you'll see!
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