Delusions

Editorial from Thursday 9 September


Bertie Ahern might be our next President. Ivor Callely is a victim. There’s no need to be concerned at our international credit rating being downgraded. Not only are we expecting a royal visit, but Queen Elizabeth is going to move into Blackrock Castle with Gerry Adams, as they have always secretly had a thing for one another.

Cork is going to be made a Republic in a matter of months, giving Brian Cowen his wish of making Offaly Ireland’s ‘real capital’, and taking some expensive items off his shopping list for Cork (M20, Cork Docklands Project, North City Ring Road, and giving Micheál Martin an opportunity to be Taoiseach sooner rather than later, without letting him near Merrion Street).

Let me see. What else?

A vibrant, viable Opposition party with ideas and fresh thinking is actually there, it’s just been invisible for a little while. Cork won the All Ireland Hurling Final, they were just wearing blue and yellow jerseys to psych out Henry Shefflin. The world is run by elected representatives, and not by faceless investors who control everything from your mortgage repayments to how much money you’ll have to live on when you’re old. Parking is free at hospitals, and if you’re entitled to social welfare, you might get it without a seven-month delay.

All of these statements fit, I think, into the broad category of ‘delusions’.

Most of them I made up – sadly – but the first two came, independently, from the minds of the protagonists.

Bertie Ahern believes, apparently, that the biggest mistake of his 11 years as Taoiseach was not building the Bertie Bowl.

Ivor Callely is going to court to, er, ‘prove’, that he’s been victimised by the Seanad committee that found him guilty of falsifying his expenses in a most incredible way.

Medicine.Net defines a ‘delusion’ as ‘A false personal belief that is not subject to reason or contradictory evidence and is not explained by a person's usual cultural and religious concepts (so that, for example, it is not an article of faith). A delusion may be firmly maintained in the face of incontrovertible evidence that it is false.’

Now, the whole idea of ‘article of faith’ may be questionable where applied to Bertie and Ivor. I don’t want to tar all politicians, all Fianna Fáil politicians, or even all former North Dublin Fianna Fáil TDs with the same brush, but perhaps self-promotion is an ‘article of faith’ in all politics, and not just in Fianna Fáil?

I suppose it’s a necessary evil in some jobs. My photograph is at the top of this article, after all, and what is that but a form of self-promotion?

But when self-promotion evolves into self-adulation and delusions about one’s importance, popularity, and general relevance to the world, there’s a problem.

Both Callely and Ahern – like Haughey before them – seem to see themselves as tragic Shakespearean figures. Great men, wronged by those they have done so much to help.

How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless electorate!

King Lear wouldn’t have a patch on them.

Silly season

Thanks to The Guardian's Organ Grinder and, of course, The Sun, for this image, which you can find at http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/organgrinder/2010/jul/23/the-sun-parasailing-donkey

My predictions just two weeks ago that silly season had begun (following a nervous chat with a journalist and photographer from another fine Cork publication, in which the sense of dread felt by all three of us was palpable) has proven, sadly, to be correct.
The Ivor Callely story - which took pride of place in our paper this week - is giving both national and local media (in both Cork and Dublin - thanks Ivor) something to chew on. For a while.
Otherwise, though, it's pretty dreary. The newsdesk email is dead. Nobody is answering the phone. Even political press releases on subjects as enlightening as potholes, pavements and mortgage interest relief, are thin on the ground. It's the time when the contents of your average popular YouTube video featuring an animal or a dancing baby actually qualifies as news (as opposed to the rest of time, where we include Cork-related ones just for the laugh, like this, and this).
It does make me wonder, though - how come PR companies haven't latched onto August as the time to make hay for their clients? I know they need holidays too, but in terms of easy coverage, August is a no-brainer.
When we have real news to report, press releases are thrown on the slagheap, but when there is no real news, we still have to fill pages.
It can be one of the most depressing parts of the job for both journalist and editor, but "filler" is a huge component of modern newspapers, especially local newspapers, where we can't bump up the 'international news' section to make up for a lack of local news, and that quirky tale of someone's dog eating their foot  is just not appropriate for our use. (Unless we can figure out that the guy had an ancestor from Cork).
There are only so many pictures of kids eating ice cream you can put in one newspaper, and the weather isn't very conducive to that. Plus, most freelance photographers seem to be on holidays too.
We are using the extra time we have in the newsroom, and the extra news pages, to do some in-depth news features, which usually we don't have room for. I'm quite excited about this, as it gives the reporters some room to carry out proper research and multiple interviews, rather than the usual fast pace of our researching and writing.
Having spoken today, via The Twitter, to @GavinGrace, a broadcaster working in Clare, it seems every media outlet in the country is having the same problem. It's a good time to use imagination and a bit of flair, and sometimes to try out new things, although it's a pain having to bear in mind that you may try out a new set piece / column / feature only to find that when things start happening again in September you have no room for it.
Like I said before. If you know of a footballing dog - please, now is the time. All cute animal stories, community groups with a new toilet in their premises, and potholes, will be covered.*

*Maybe not "all". Some. The interesting ones.

Secret life of Cork

Living in the city centre, I thought I knew everything that was going on in Cork. On my doorstep, I have the English Market, Opera Lane, Patrick’s Street, historic Shandon, the Docklands, the genteel business district of the South Mall, all waiting to be discovered. And I have explored all of them numerous times.
But, like a lot of people, I don’t go outside my comfort zone too often – mostly, I go out to the same places, buy my groceries in the same shops and take the same shortcuts.
This is the first week in what’s known as ‘the silly season’. We’ve been lucky this year - it usually starts in July - but the economic conditions have meant there’s plenty of news even if most of it is bad. It’s the time of year when journalists quake at the thought of filling 96 pages – no council meetings, no Dáil, very little crime and no courts – and everyone else is on their holidays. Nobody answers the phone and nobody calls you back, and that dog that plays football in the neighbourhood is suddenly front page material.
With the Opera House closed, the majority of summer festivals over and done with, and schoolchildren starting to count down to the dreaded 1 September, it would be fair to assume that Cork has shut down for its summer holidays.
A colleague remarked to me during the week that even the streets seem to be dozing in these warm, heavy evenings. Pockets of buzz illuminate the hotspots, but by and large, Cork is quiet.
But it’s those pockets you have to watch out for. Where you see four or five, or ten people huddled outside a building, smoking and chatting, it’s worth finding out what’s going on.
This week, I’ve been having my own private Arts Week.
On Monday night, I went to see Cork playwright Conal Creedon’s two one-act plays, When I Was God & After Luke, at the Cork Arts Theatre.
Right across the river from the sleeping Goliath that is the Cork Opera House, the Cork Arts Theatre is like a brave, busy David, merrily toiling away with a packed schedule of lunchtime theatre (€10 – bargain) and short, tightly produced shows with Cork actors and production.
Creedon’s plays were marvellous – they capture Cork beautifully and with human themes that have appealed universally, as far away as Shanghai and New York. Whatever about the Lonely Planet, I bet there are a few Chinese theatre fans who are counting down the days until their trips to Cork.
On Tuesday, it was the turn of the Everyman, the grand old lady of Cork theatres, where the Cork premiere of Druid’s production of Penelope, written by Enda Walsh, was showing. The theatre was sold out, and the buzz – all ages, shapes and sizes of people – was impressive.
Despite some rather intimidating reviews in national papers, most of the crowd seemed to enjoy what is essentially an expose of human nature and its brutality and passion, wearing the clothes of a demented comedy. Well worth a watch, with an open mind.
Today, I hope to take in some art – but I’m not sure where to go. The Crawford Museum? The Cork Vision Centre? The Glucksman? Or maybe the exhibition of the adult education art classes at Coláiste Stiofáin Naofa, the invite to which popped into my inbox as I was writing this.
My point is this: The city may appear to be sleeping. But there are still plenty of people here who are dreaming, and the dreams are open to all of us. Step outside your comfort zone, and dare to dream.

Progress

 Image (c) Tony O'Connell Photography














Cork City Manager Joe Gavin this week said goodbye to the city he’s taken charge of for the past ten years.
Mr Gavin leaves with a considerable list of achievements under his belt, for which he was widely applauded at Monday night’s City Council meeting.
A vox-pop of our readers carried out on Facebook and on the streets suggests that the majority of Corkonians recognise these achievements.
The regeneration of St Patrick’s Street and the Grand Parade; the inception of the (some day, hopefully realised) Docklands Development Plan; the Lapps Quay and Opera Lane developments were all mentioned at Monday’s meeting. Councillors spoke at length about the infrastructural developments I’ve mentioned above, as well as others.
Mr Gavin praised developers, including Cork’s own ‘fugitive’ Greg Coughlan, of Howard Holdings, whose vision produced the Lapps Quay and Boardwalk development.
And then he said something else that proved just how little we have learned in the two years – so far - of this recession.
There were five cranes visible on the Cork skyline when he arrived, in 2000. At the ‘peak’ of his tenure, there were 28. This is how he measured his achievements, watching the skyline from his upper-floor office in Cork City Hall.
This statement – from a man who has done so much work for the people of Cork – just proved that we have learned absolutely nothing from the past two years of crashes, revelations and toppling of pedestals.
When will we learn that progress is not about buildings, but about people?
While all of the developments mentioned above are important and welcome, creating jobs and improving the city’s appearance, they are still just buildings.
At Monday night’s City Council meeting, it was also revealed that the number of homeless shelter beds in Cork currently meet demand, for the first time.
That is a wonderful achievement, and hats off to Cork Simon and the other services that continue to fight against homelessness. No matter how badly off we are as a country, one thing we are not short of is houses, so homelessness is a particularly ironic, and unnecessary side effect of this recession.
That, to me, is a major achievement, and I’m sure it is not the only human progress made in Cork since 2000.
Cork City Council has had its share of ups and downs under Mr Gavin; the St Mary’s Road Library move, which has been the cause of some confusion among councillors as to who voted for it, and when, is one negative that will be remembered from this year; the extensive flooding another.
While it will be a long time before Mr Gavin’s legacy can be assessed accurately, and from an objective distance, the legacy of the economic crash should already be teaching us that progress is about people.
Perhaps the next City Manager, Tim Lucey, when he takes over in August, will measure progress differently, while carrying on the good work of his predecessor.

#Fruitbatgate

Full possession of the facts

#Fruitbatgate. If that looks like nonsense to you, read on.

A word or phrase with the hash symbol in front of it, is called a ‘hashtag’. It’s a device used on Twitter to show that you are referencing a scandal, story, company or person. And the scandalous ones almost always have ‘gate’ at the end of them, after the infamous Watergate scandal that toppled Richard Nixon - #Bertiegate, #Willygate, #Climategate, and now #fruitbatgate.

If you’re an avid newspaper or online media follower, you’ll have spotted this one as early as this time last week, when the details – some of the details – of #fruitbatgate became public.

A UCC lecturer has come out publicly to protest against sanctions imposed on him by UCC after a complaint made about his “inappropriate” behaviour by a colleague. The complaint was made after he showed a peer-reviewed article about the sexual habits of the fruitbat to the colleague.

His cause has been taken up by the Irish Federation of University Teachers, and he has started an online petition, signed by high profile academics including the provost of King’s College Cambridge. The issue has even received coverage in the Huffington Post and the London Times.

However, one of the first rules of journalism is to question everything, and, while I’m an avid fan of blogging and social media, not all bloggers (some do) follow the same rules as journalists do. Not all journalists do, either, mind, but usually there is some effort to get both sides of a story before printing, rather than waiting for the other party to get upset and retort.

One newspaper went a strange way about getting both sides of the story – by printing the name and picture of the woman who’d accused Dr Evans of sexual harassment. Granted, it was her own choice not to comment, but this does say something about the way in which sexual harassment cases are treated.

Further thought by some bloggers – one of whom is himself a respected economist, Dr Stephen Kinsella of the University of Limerick – led them to withdraw support from Dr Evans, because they realised that only one side of the story was out there.

Dr Evans’ clever use of social media and campaigning, even PR, has put him in a good position in this case; he appears to be a diligent academic, worried about freedom of speech, and the complainant appears to be just that, a whingeing woman who believes every mention of sexuality, no matter of what species, is an affront to her.

But it’s not that simple. Most workplaces have codes of conduct in relation to these matters – and a workplace like UCC, with a large and diverse staff, has, you can be sure, a very clear policy on sexual harassment and interpersonal relations.

And while some people have a close relationship with colleagues where an article like that might be considered funny, a history of bad relations or of inappropriate comments or contact can sour the joke and make life uncomfortable or downright difficult.

Sexual harassment procedures are in place for a reason. While the team appointed to investigate did not find that Dr Evans’ behaviour in the preceding period was not inappropriate, it upheld the fruitbat complaint.

Perhaps the outcome was wrong; but, without knowing all the facts, it’s not up to bloggers, columnists or commentators such as myself to make a judgment. That can only be done with full possession of the facts.

Mad Hatters' Ball

Firstly, thanks to everyone who helped out with the Mad Hatters' Ball. It was a great night, with some amazing effort made by people who came along. Photos are on www.facebook.com/corkindependent, but here's the winner Amy Cole:

Amy's also a model with Lockdown Model Agency and she will definitely benefit from the prize, no doubt she has a great career ahead of her!

Thanks to Cathy Lawson, Aisling Kelleher, Miki Barlok and Julie Cobbe who judged, and also to the Savoy Theatre, Dave Mac for hosting, and DJ Peter Bowles who got everyone in the mood. Also thanks to Hopkins Communications for the drinkies and to all the other sponsors.

I got my itinerary for Haiti yesterday and will post it just as soon as I get time. For now, we are working on bringing out a bumper edition of the Cork Independent with an exclusive 24 page supplement on Cork Fashion Week. I'm quite excited as it's very different to anything I've previously done, but it's looking fantastic so far.

Christmas spirit

Despite the Budget doom and gloom, there seems to be a surfeit of Christmas spirit around at the moment. This is the first year I've ever seen mulled wine for sale in Ireland, and it's definitely a welcome development!
Cork Marketing Partnership's Christmas Celebration on Grand Parade is an inspired idea. Having received both pictures and press releases over the past few weeks, I was still a bit unclear as to what was actually happening there. I blame my own lack of attention for this and not a deficiency in the press releasing skills of Steve from the Partnership!
Wandering past on Friday at lunchtime I was all agog at the mulled wine, pig on a spit and even sausages in a bun (no CMOT Dibbler, Pratchett fans). I went back on Saturday for a look - twice - because the Peace Park wasn't open during the day. On Saturday evening I went back to see it in all its winter wonderland glory, and the boyfriend and I agreed that it most reminded us of the Tivoli Gardens in Copenhagen, probably the most Christmassy place on earth. Little kids squealing with excitement at photo points with Rudolph, Santa and various Christmassy characters (although I'm not sure about the giant squirrel), elderly couples walking around holding hands, Christmas music playing and lights in every tree and bush in the park. Not to mention the best bit - the fake snow! I've always been a sucker for all things Christmassy and the Christmas Celebration on Grand Parade is up there with the best of them in providing a lovely, free activity for families and couples in search of some Christmas cheer. A hot port in Mutton Lane on the way, and home to make and write the Christmas cards. You might not live in a Disney movie but this sure is a good way of pretending to...

Florence and the Machine

Florence and the Machine are playing in Cork this weekend. Check out Brian's feature on Florence and the fantastic acts supporting her in this week's paper.

I absolutely love Florence. I have never played a CD so often, on repeat, nor so loud. She has the most amazing voice, with depth and pain and soul, and her songs speak to me like none ever have. I have the same passion for that album that I had for the Chronicles of Narnia as a kid, and I can't help thinking there are more parallels there than just my feelings for them. Both Florence's album and the Narnia books speak of epic journeys, pain, and the ultimate triumph of goodness and glory.

So I should be delighted she is playing in Cork. I couldn't get tickets for her in Dublin, as they sold out within minutes. And, even more, this gig is actually free. Free! And, doing the job I do, in Cork, I am able to get on the guest list. Thank God for pull.

Not only is there Florence, but the Magic Numbers and Lisa Hannigan, two more of my favourite acts, are supporting. In the Opera House. Five minutes from where I live.

It's like it was fated. Except for one thing... I can't go.

I have a prior commitment.

To put some perspective on it, when I told my boyfriend Florence was playing in Cork, he said he would break up with me if I didn't get us tickets. And I duly did.

Before I realised it was on the same night as that prior commitment; his granny's birthday.

There are some things worth the sacrifice. I suppose.

Fail to prepare...

This week we learned that Cork could be submerged under water if flood defences are not adequately prepared in time for the real onset of climate change. According to a new report by the Irish Academy of Engineers, Ireland's major cities, all built on the coast and also on river estuaries, could be submerged within the next century as a result of climate change.

The report – 'Ireland at Risk' – also claims that the traditional one-in-a-century flood could happen every five years if measures are not taken to combat climate change and to prepare flood defences. And many areas of Cork are at serious risk.

Somebody tell that to the people in Passage West and Glenbrook who saw wholesale destruction of their property last week. Serious flooding occurred in Glenbrook, Monkstown, Rochestown, Carrigaline, Shanbally and Minane Bridge, and residents in Glenbrook in particular were devastated at the destruction of homes and vehicles. However, the crucial part of this tale of woe is that local people had been seeking flood defence works for years. Not huge ones; merely the unblocking of gullies. And why didn't they happen? Not urgent, according to Cork County Council.

In fairness to Cork County Council, they're not operating in a vacuum. Irish attitudes to preparation are at best optimistic and at worst apocalyptic. Make hay while the sun shines… it might never happen… sure we'll manage.

Nothing is urgent until the worst happens. That's how disaster strikes. And climate change, as this report shows, is coming at us at full speed. I'm not an expert on the environment. But I believe in what I can see, and even I can see that the weather is changing.

At the moment, the country is like one of those cartoon characters whose eyes are following the prize, while the anvil plummets towards them at speed. We are focussing on the finer points of bankers' salaries and tax rates and even on Jedward, and the Breffmeister. Some of these things are merely much-needed entertainment, while others may be directly relevant to our daily lives and wellbeing.

But issues like last week's flooding in Passage West and Glenbrook show us that we cannot afford to put climate change on the back burner. Waiting until we've dealt with the economic crisis is simply not good enough; the economic crisis could continue for the next twenty years.
While real long-term change needs to happen from the bottom up, the Government must lead on this, and introduce a flood defence programme immediately. We cannot stop climate change. But, while it might take a sea-change in mentality, we can do our best to prepare for and cope with it.

- For pics see www.corkindependent.com or www.provision.ie

*UPDATE: Cork is practically underwater today, one day after writing... wasn't aware I was psychic!

The Emperor has no clothes

I've already written here about how supportive I am of the arts in general - particularly writing, theatre and music. I can appreciate other types of art generally, but don't have such an engagement with them.

But I am always willing to be educated, and with that in mind I went to the opening event of Art Trail last night at the Savoy Theatre in Cork. A lovely event, not your usual launch, very few of the launch-heads around. The free cocktails and nibbles went down a treat with the arty types, many of whom fulfilled the starving-in-a-garret stereotype perfectly.

The opening speech was mercifully brief, and in a very sweet attempt to get people to participate, a copy was handed to everyone in the audience to read aloud simultaneously. A friend and I started to join in but soon realised nobody else was, and as someone else pointed out, it did feel a bit like Mass. I respected the effort though - if people had bought in, it would have made the speech relevant and inclusive, something very few speeches are. So far, I get it.

A drink or two later we were wondering what, if anything, was coming next, when everybody started moving towards the screening room. So we, naturally, followed. This was the video installation mentioned on the press release.

But it wasn't. I think. At least, if it was, there's a serious case for a charge of false advertising.

What we were treated/subjected to was a 25-minute long chant by a woman in a white CSI-type boiler suit, standing in front of a screen on which the words of her chant were projected. But they weren't words, I think. Well, maybe they were words in Finnish or something - a lot of umlauts and a lot of strange constructions. Every time there was an ebb or a flow in the chant, there was an audible intake of breath and posture change as people got ready to applaud and run.
But no... about seven times this false dawn appeared. There were no chairs... after about ten minutes most people were sitting on the floor.

Discussing the thing at work this morning, one of our graphic designers explained to me that in conceptual art (apparently that's what this is) there are three roles: the artist installs, the critic gives it meaning, and the collector gives it value.
(Graphic designers do go to art college, so I'll presume he knows what he is talking about).

People questioned the validity of Tracy Emin's 'My Bed' which was shortlisted for the Turner Prize in 1999. And in one sense they were right to - after all, everyone has a bed. But in another, that's exactly the reason it was art - everyone could relate to it, everyone would interpret it differently, it spoke to people and it raised questions (even if they were just questions about the artist's personal hygiene). So, although I'm not a huge lover of modern art, I see the point of that.

Likewise, on a visit to the Tate Modern a couple of years ago, I was disgusted by an installation involving childlike outlines of industrial buildings painted on a white wall, with two (real) dead crows pinned above them with arrows. I thought it was a) disgusting and b) not very imaginative. It was easy to interpret though - industrialism, destruction, modernity v nature, etc.

But this? What the hell was this about? Call me a philistine, but... the Emperor had no clothes on. Under the boiler suit. Obviously.

Some gold amid the gloom

Every day, as I sift through hundreds of emails, I marvel at the variety of events happening in Cork every week. The doom and gloom of the recession has convinced many of us that the country is dead; that there is no money; nothing happening; and that everyone is miserable. This gloom isn't exclusive to Ireland. Twenty-three workers at France Telecom have taken their own lives since the beginning of 2008; the trend is blamed on cost-cutting at the company.

In America, just 39 per cent of workers professed loyalty to their employers in December 2008, compared with 95 per cent in June 2007. And the number who trusted their employers fell from 79 per cent to 22 per cent over the same period.

It looks like the cynicism currently being directed at Irish politicians is not an Irish phenomenon, or even a political phenomenon. Right now, the entire Western world is experiencing a comparable mood swing. John O'Donoghue's resignation comes just months after the Speaker of the English Parliament was forced to resign. Italian PM Silvio Berlusconi is probably facing fraud charges. However, we seem to be forgetting something pretty important. To go back to my emails, there are hundreds of them a day. Many of them are from PR companies, pushing products and services. More are from politicians, trying to highlight issues (or get their names in the paper). But the vast majority are related to charities, community groups, choirs, sports clubs, retired groups, and the like.

The 'third sector', which is made up of community, development and voluntary groups, has long been and remains absolutely essential in Irish life. From the early days of the GAA as the nineteenth century faded, to the Special Olympics in the infancy of the twenty-first, we have always excelled at giving up our time and effort, and giving 100 per cent, to help someone, somewhere. This week alone there are so many voluntary events – maybe not earth-shattering, but important to somebody – on in Cork that it is hard to even record all of them and notify a depressed public that there is life, Jim, but maybe not as we know it.

This life is not centred around flash cars and penthouse apartments, but ordinary people and their extraordinary contributions to others. Here are a few examples: - This week is Positive Ageing week, run by Age Action, a charity that provides help, support and advice to older people. See our piece on p12.

- The Irish Red Cross – a voluntary organisation – is teaching people in Cork to become first aid instructors. They will save lives. See our piece on p18. - Cork Simon Community volunteers will collect money for the homeless at church gates this weekend. See our piece on p15.

- A fundraising event will take place in aid of Enable Ireland and the Cloghroe Aspergers Support Group this evening. See our piece on p15. This is just a tiny sample of events around Cork City and County this week. But they are enough to remind us of what makes Irish society. Cork can get through the recession; some will lose hope, many will lose jobs, but all of us have something to gain from giving. There is some gold amid the gloom, just not the kind we're used to.

Manchester madness

Manchester: hop, skip and jump with BMI Baby

Fancy a shopping trip? A good night out? A premier league football match? Or even some culture away from Cork?

I visited Cork recently as the guest of BMI Baby and Marketing Manchester

Manchester is one of the UK’s biggest cities, with over twice the population of Dublin, and is well known for both its sporting glory and shopping potential. It’s ideal for a short break, and with BMI Baby flying regularly from Cork Airport, is quicker and probably cheaper than going to Dublin for a girls’ weekend.
With my knowledge of Manchester stretching about as far as the cobbles of Coronation Street and t’mills, I was pleasantly surprised to find myself in a vibrant, modern city that retains aspects of its industrial past but is clearly striving to become a cultural and retail destination.
Manchester is ideal for a shopping holiday. Weak sterling and the difference in prices at UK retail outlets mean that any avid shopper will bag a bargain. Now that Cork has many of the same stores, it’s interesting, and rather frustrating, to see the rip-off price differences in many of the bigger chainstores. With some of the UK’s biggest shopping centres including the city centre-based Arndale Centre and of course the Trafford Centre, there’s plenty of scope to shop ‘til you drop and naturally, we did. While many people think immediately of London, Manchester benefits from a cheaper cost of living – so food, drink and accommodation are all far cheaper than they would be in the English capital.
A trip on the Manchester Wheel (similar to the London Eye) provides a great birds eye view over the city, and is one of few traditionally ‘touristy’ experiences available. Corrie fans will be disappointed to learn that you can no longer tread the hallowed cobbles, and the lack of any Coronation Street attraction was our one complaint about the city!
The city has plenty to offer when it comes to eating out and socialising. We lunched at the delightfully quaint Mr Thomas’ Chophouse, which is located conveniently near the Arndale Centre, and serves a lot more than chops, much to my relief. Friendly service and excellent, hearty food (I had the fish and chips with mushy peas, which was fantastic) make this a must, and the old-fashioned décor is atmospheric. It’s always good to see a big lunch crowd and the mix of office workers and at least one couple on a date was encouraging.
For dinner, Manchester has a great range of options. The city’s size and diverse ethnic mix means it has something for everyone, and we visited Ning, a Malaysian restaurant in the city’s Northern Quarter. The food was among the best Asian cuisine I’ve ever tasted, and a perfectly chosen wine list complemented it well. Friendly staff and excellent service completed the experience.
As Manchester continues to be a massive centre of industry and commerce, it has a great range of accommodation to choose from. Business travellers demand a high standard, so the city is well equipped for these. We stayed at the Palace Hotel in central Oxford Street, which is well located across the street from Oxford Road Train Station, just 20 minutes from the airport. The hotel is imposing and really brings home to you just how much history Manchester has. It takes up almost a full city block and is situated in the former headquarters of Refuge Assurance, which was clearly a major player in the industry. A gothic red-brick façade, stained glass windows and a huge, pillared reception area with a glass dome in the ceiling must have made for some very intimidated life insurance customers back in its days as a financial institution. Nowadays it is a premium conference hotel and has recently been refurbished to a very high standard, with comfortable, spacious rooms and a modern, appealing décor within the rooms.
See www.visitmanchester.com or www.bmibaby.co.uk for more information.

Disillusionment 101

This was intended to be this week's editorial, but John O'Donoghue's resignation put paid to it! Nonetheless I think elements of it are still relevant...

Disillusionment 101

Well, that’s that. All done. And dusted. We voted yes, now where’s our prize? I seem to remember being promised more jobs. I’m happy enough with the one but at a time like this, if you’re offered more, you take them, right? And I think I was promised closer ties with Europe as well. And wasn’t there something about a Ryanair seat sale? I definitely remember Michael O’Leary giving out about something and doesn’t that usually presage a sale of some kind?
Of all the promises we’ve been made recently the only one I can think of that seems to have come true is the one about closer ties with Europe; that new H&M is lovely you know. H&M are Swedish and God knows it took a lot to get them to Cork but the Yes to Lisbon must have been the final straw. Yes to Sweden!
Forgive my cynicism but I have never felt an anti-climax like the one that followed the Yes to Lisbon vote. When two-thirds of the electorate votes for something very few understood and quite a lot didn’t really want to vote for, but felt they had no choice, it does take the ‘resounding’ out of the whole equation.
As a Yes voter from the beginning, and a supporter of the referendum re-run, I expected to feel happy about the result but somehow, the way in which it happened left a sour taste. Having beaten down all the Opposition (such as they were) and run a campaign based purely on the economy, the Government let itself down, despite the eventual victory. Although I did feel a glimmer of gladness for Brian Cowen when I saw the overwhelming look of relief on his face at the post-referendum press conference. There’s a weight off.
This Government and its term has been a lesson in disillusionment. Perhaps my feeling of being let down post-Yes is more related to the continuing disgrace of Ceann Comhairle John O’Donoghue, or the scandals of FÁS, or the unremitting cutbacks. Perhaps it is because I’ve just realised the frightening percentage of my friends who’ve already emigrated. Perhaps it is in relation to the unrelenting economic misery and the fact that suddenly there is conflict everywhere in Irish society; I’m afraid to talk to my own mother, a teacher, in case I’ve picked up the Pick on the Public Sector bug and she disowns me.
Irish society is in crisis. During the years of the Celtic Tiger, when all the chickens that are currently coming home to roost were but fledglings, a few people had the courage to shout ‘stop’ and were themselves shouted down. The greed, cynicism and cronyism of those years and the decades since the foundation of the State (The New Gill History of Ireland is instructive) have made this country what it is today: a wonderful country in many ways, most of them down to EU membership and a few visionaries, but also a corrupt and selfish country now facing a very uncertain future.
This week’s torrential rain would put anyone in a bad mood, but I can’t help thinking it reflects the national mood perfectly. A storm is coming, and hopefully, there will be some sunshine after it.