Limerick: the not-so-gritty city is one of Ireland’s overlooked gems
04.12.2023 - 14:07
/ theguardian.com
A fresh Atlantic breeze blows up the estuary and rustles through a thicket of young lime trees by the Treaty Stone, the rock that witnessed the end of the Williamite war in the autumn of 1691. Just ahead, a seven-arch limestone bridge spans the Shannon River as far as the thick barrel towers of King John’s Castle. To the right, Limerick City’s quays and avenues bustle with new bars, hotels and restaurants. It’s a scene that contrasts starkly with the damp, smoky cityscape depicted in Frank McCourt’s book Angela’s Ashes.
Yet McCourt’s 1996 Pulitzer prize-winning memoir is not the only printed word out of touch with the 21st-century Treaty City. In 2021, the business magazine Forbes retracted an article that failed to meet its own editorial standards when it published a profile piece about John and Patrick Collison, founders of financial software company Stripe, who grew up near the city. The article described Limerick as some sort of gritty, gun-slinging frontier town. To some extent, this was understandable: the city is often treated as a whipping boy for urban felonies in Irish media, decades after a criminal family feud had ended.
The truth is that for a long time, Limerick has quietly enjoyed the same low crime rates as cities such as Cork and Galway. But, aesthetically, Limerick is captivating. An architectural map of Irish history unfolds along what has to be the most handsome riverfront in the country. The medieval quarter in the north of the city flows on to gleaming glass buildings and rows of Georgian redbrick townhouses. Cafes have colonised the waterways that snake in all directions, while the main streets and quays make it easy to navigate on foot or by bike.
The past sits comfortably here, despite the fact the city appears to be in a constant state of rejuvenation. Every Sunday, for centuries, Limerick has woken to the chiming of the bells of St Mary’s Cathedral. Down a labyrinth of narrow lanes under a giant canopy is the Milk Market, where the city has always congregated on Saturday morning to browse the stalls of artisan food producers. By midday the scent of coffee is in the air, and a queue has formed at David Jackson’s Flying Cheese Brigade stall, which sells locally sourced organic brands, such as aromatic, tangy St Tola cheese, as well as innovative international varieties.
Facing the market is Nancy Blake’s pub, where the owner, Donal Mulcahy, has curated the same dusky nostalgic vibe the place had when it was run by his mother, Nancy. It’s like walking into a 19th-century lantern-lit parlour, with a warm glow from the cast-iron fireplace. To the rear is a brick and lean-to beer garden, known by most as the Outback, where a night often ends to the sound of a saxophone and a tot