The Metals Walk

Maybe you already know The Metals walk in Dun Laoighre, in case you don’t, here’s a little of its backstory. It was a pathway that linked the quarry in Dalkey to the harbour in Dun Laoghaire. Large slabs of granite from the quarry were pulled by horses down this truck railroad for the construction of the east and west piers from 1817 until its completion in 1842.

Prior to this, Dublin Bay was a graveyard for ships due to lack of shelter during storms, so the need to build safe harbours was urgent. The work of these craftsmen is long since complete and still offers a beacon of welcome and beauty. Countless feet have strolled those piers since then. It was my father’s favourite outing, though as someone with a very low appetite for danger, he was petrified that either myself or The Brother would fall over the edge.

At the end of the east pier there is a lighthouse. As children without even one grandparent to our name, we called this Granny’s House. Everyone else seemed to visit their Grannies on Sundays, so we invented a fantasy world where we did too. Being a fantasy Granny, we dreamed her waiting for us with open arms and a table heaving with cakes.

Dun Laoighre’s east pier is the more walked of the two piers, and the one you stroll on hoping to bump into someone. The west pier is rugged, less social, a place for solitary walks with your thoughts.

Walking the pier, although a sedate form of exercise, is still in vogue, half on land, half out in the sea, it brings you close to lapping waves and tinkling boat masts. It is comforting in its familiarity. The little blue bench at the end looking over at Howth, the buskers serenading passers by. The bandstand where as kids we all sang and danced. The shiny new couples, the loving old couples welded together through interlocked fingers. Strollers making up, lovers breaking up. Families with buggies and scooters, dog walkers, fishermen, groups of girls talking and laughing, gangs of lads acting bravado. Those recovering from surgery, taking advantage of a flat walk, endeavouring to get further along each time. Everyone and anyone, all enjoying the fresh sea air.

The ferry used to go from there, I remember setting off with my classmates on a school tour to London. My father ran the length of the pier waving us off as we left the harbour. Returning home from that trip he was standing blessing himself, thankful or relieved that we had made it back safely after our perilous journey across the sea. He never left the island of Ireland in his life, either by sea or air, and was distrustful of the mechanics that made it possible.

I could go on all day about the pier, it is a magnet that keeps pulling me back. As a child I thought it was boring and when we were told we were going there I’d say ‘not the bloody pier’. Now Mr B says the same thing when I suggest it, but it’s more than a walk, it’s a reconnection with the past.

The Metals walk is a great off-road walk which brings you as the crow flies. A logical route, given that it’s intended purpose was lugging great blocks of granite. I met my pal Ciara there last week and together with my Monty and her Abbie, we set off on the 6k return journey. We began at the gates of The People’s Park with its elegant tea rooms and fountains, a reminder of the genteel life of Kingstown, as Dun Laoighre was once called.

The Metals walk is wider than a lane, but narrower than a road, navigated by walkers, runners and cyclists. Views are largely hidden for most of the walk, which didn’t matter as we were busy chatting, and then suddenly you turn around and the view has opened up and blows you away. It’s mostly a flat walk expect for 2 short uphill sections, which reward you with stunning views out to Howth and the full expense of Dublin Bay laid out before you.

When you reach the end of the signposted walkway, you could turn and head into Dalkey village or onwards to Killiney. We chose instead to take our coffee break at Dalkey Quarry and found a large stone under a tree which was a very peaceful spot to stop and rest. Ciara is neither a tea nor coffee drinker so I had the flask to myself, but we did share some tea brack and philosophising about how life might change for the better after all this. We both hoped that when this is all over and we get to remove our masks, society might drop other masks of falseness that inhibit living authentic lives. Her positive outlook gave me a lighter step on the return journey.

I had checked the weather forecast before I left home and despite no mention of rain, I threw my raingear into the car.  Then when I got there, I felt sure I wouldn’t be needing it, so didn’t bother bringing it on the walk. Fool me! A gentle mist grew stronger and we discovered there is little shelter on the pathway and got fairly soaked. But the chat was flowing faster than the rain so we kept on walking and talking. We said our goodbye’s back at the People’s Park and I went to make my way home.

I’d love to tell you that I ended the trip on the pier to complete the quarry to harbour experience, but I was just too wet to venture that far. Instead I ended with a 99 from the hatch at Teddy’s – I felt that’s what you would have wanted me to do.