Tag Archives: Barry Sheehan


The Wellington Monument, Phoenix Park

Joyce started writing the short stories in Dubliners in 1904. However publication of Dubliners was protracted, and the collection was eventually published in London on the 15 June 1914.

I had an idea to run through the main locations of all of the stories in Dubliners. I wanted to show how closely knitted together the locations of the stories in Dubliners are, how comprehensively Joyce used the city of Dublin, and how the same locations are continually used, and used again in Joyce’s later works.

Joyce’s official, and first biographer, Herbert S. Gorman in James Joyce: His first forty years writes,

    Before one has read very far in “Dubliners” it becomes evident that these sketches are no more complete in themselves than a few hours of life is complete in itself. The mysterious motivation continues after the period has been put to the last paragraph. In other words, there is no rounded plot, no episode that is stated, developed and brought to a climax with its resultant dénouement. The reader is not through with these characters after they have been quietly snatched from their brief moment in the white light of Joyce’s exposition. They have walked past the window of his observation and merely turned the corner of time into other streets where we may be sure they are still existing, repeating themselves as small minds do, posturing for the contemptuous chuckles of Destiny.

Herbert S. Gorman, James Joyce: His first forty years (Page 46,47)

Like Gorman I feel the characters and places of Dubliners are still existing. Many walk from Dubliners into Ulysses, and in the case of Lenehan and Corley, I expect they are still lingering and loitering in Dublin. I certainly cross their paths often enough on this run.


Like the others runs in these blogposts  I decided to make my own set of rules for the route. I try to keep the rules generally the same between the blogs, varying them occasionally to suit.

Rule One: Relevancy to Dubliners

The first rule is that the route has to have some relevancy to the text of Dubliners. I was never going to be able to run through all of the places mentioned, particularly the outlying areas such as Inchicore, Skerries and Monkstown, so I would have to curate the run. But as the clue is in the title, I kept to the city of Dublin and as closely as possible, to places mentioned in the text of Dubliners.

I had to pick a start and an end point and then link the streets between with a narrative. Joyce wrote extensively about Dublin in all his major works, so if there was nothing mentioned in Dubliners I would select a route option that related to his other works, but mention them only lightly, and in passing. The long quotes below are all from the stories in Dubliners themselves.

Rule Two: Cross Dublin

The second rule is, cross the city, rather than stick to the edges. If there is a river, then cross it. The principal wanderers in Dubliners Lenehan, Corley and Little Chandler, like Stephen in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and Stephen and Bloom in Ulysses, all cross the Liffey and so do I, more than once.

Rule Three: Treat all of the routes as in they are happening in the same time period

The run is relatively long. To keep my mind active I decided to run it as if all of the characters from Dubliners were moving through the city in the same place at the same time as me. I thought this approach was a little odd until I read Gorman’s passage above.

Not all of the stories in Dubliners are dated, but some like Araby are based on real events, in this case a bazaar taking place in the Royal Dublin Society in 1894. I typically refer to the city as it existed in 1904, the year Joyce started writing Dubliners, the year he met Nora Barnacle and the year he left Dublin for the Continent of Europe.

The Route

My first plan was to run the stories sequentially, starting with Great Britain Street in The Sisters and finishing on Usher’s Island from The Dead. I generally tried to run past or through the central point of action in a particular story. This is harder to do with a story like After the Race as I couldn’t run around Inchicore and then bob about in a boat in Kingstown Harbour. Most of the stories have a central moment in a particular place and I tried to engage with that.

After a bit of route mapping I abandoned the idea of running the stories sequentially. One of the reasons is the long run out to Sydney Parade train station and back to the centre of Dublin. It’s too long and too boring, both to run, write and to read about. Mixing the stories up adds to the interest.

Don Gifford writes about Dubliners,

The opening stories all involve motion toward the east, toward “exile,” toward some principle that promises at least escape from paralysis if not revitalization. In the balance of the volume eastward motion gives way to an increasing concentration in the centre of Dublin, the centre of paralysis; in the final story “The Dead,” there are glances westward, toward death.

Don Gifford Joyce annotated: Notes for Dubliners and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (Page 26)

I thought the run had a better narrative if I stared in Sydney Parade and then ran towards the city centre, crossing the Liffey a few times and generally heading west. The selected route follows Gifford’s outline, starting in the east, moves in through the south city, moves north as the Joyce family did, circles the north city centre and then heads west to the Phoenix Park. The route, like the book, starts and ends with death.

Most of the places I ran through are mentioned or implied in Dubliners, several are described in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, many occur repeatedly in Ulysses and some feature in Finnegans Wake, most notably The Phoenix Park.

The route crosses the city but does not cross over itself. I designed the route to be balanced and it is divides into four more or less equal parts, the run into the city from Sydney Parade, the run around the south central city, the run around the north central city, followed by the run out of the city.

The run ends as does Dubliners, heading west out of Dublin.

Route Notes

In the route descriptions I have used present day street names. It was very common for names of streets and house numbers to be changed in Dublin. I have noted several in the text.

I have referred to Roger Norburn’s A James Joyce Chronology for key dates.

In the descriptions below I have made reference to present day and historic Ordnance Survey digital maps. They are available on and I have referred to the Historic Map 25 inch set from 1888 – 1913, which shows the layout of the city that most closely matches the layout of when the stories were written.

Nothing compares to going out and seeing the city on foot. I made several preparatory runs, particularly to check road crossings and the end section. I did the actual run early on Sunday morning, starting just after 08:00. This was important as it is a time when the central city streets are relatively empty of pedestrians and traffic, essential for running on the footpaths and crossing key road junctions. I took the photos in advance.


Sydney Parade Train Station


Sydney Parade Dart Station 

I start at Sydney Parade Station which opened in 1835 on the southeast side of the city, and where Mrs. Sinico in the story A Painful Case was fatally injured by a train.

Today at the City of Dublin Hospital the Deputy Coroner (in the absence of Mr. Leverett) held an inquest on the body of Mrs. Emily Sinico, aged forty-three years, who was killed at Sydney Parade Station yesterday evening. The evidence showed that the deceased lady while attempting to cross the line was knocked down by the engine of the ten o’clock slow train from Kingstown, thereby sustaining injuries to the head and right side which led to her death.

James Joyce, A Painful Case, Dubliners (Page 95)

Interestingly Mrs. Sinico lived at Leoville on Sydney Parade. The house and her name are fictitious. Her name is based on Giuseppe Sinico, Joyce’s singing teacher in Trieste in 1905 and Leoville is the name of the house that James Joyce moved into at 23 Carysfort Avenue, Blackrock in 1892. It was his family’s last residence on the southside of the city, before moving north to Hardwicke Street, one of the streets I am headed to.

I have written more about A Painful Case in the blogpost, Now who is that lanky looking galoot over there in the macintosh?, which you can read here.

Ailesbury Road (West)

I run west along Ailesbury Road towards the Merrion Road. Ailesbury Road is not mentioned in Dubliners but emerges briefly in Mr. Bloom’s thoughts in the Lestrygonians episode of Ulysses.

Merrion Road (North West)

Merrion Road is mentioned in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man when Stephen sees the removal vans heading north from the house in Blackrock, though the location is presumably further south from where I am, at the Merrion Gates. Stephen would most likely have continued his journey into town on the Merrion Road, just as Gabriel and Greta Conroy would have done in the opposite direction, the last time they returned from the Misses Morkan’s annual dance.

I pass the Royal Dublin Society which features prominently in Araby, where the narrator comes to visit the bazaar. There was a real bazaar held here as a benefit for the Jervis Street Hospital on the 14th to the 19th May 1894 and the young James Joyce is known to have attended.  The narrator of the story Araby travels by special train from Amiens Street, through Westland Row station and onto the bazaar pulling up to a temporary platform on the opposite side of Merrion Road.

At Westland Row Station a crowd of people pressed to the carriage doors; but the porters moved them back, saying that it was a special train for the bazaar. I remained alone in the bare carriage. In a few minutes the train drew up beside an improvised wooden platform. I passed out on to the road and saw by the lighted dial of a clock that it was ten minutes to ten. In front of me was a large building which displayed the magical name.

James Joyce, Araby, Dubliners (Page 25)

On the screen shot from the Ordnance Survey Map you can see the branch line that ran directly from the main Dublin and Kingstown Railway line direct to the RDS, terminating across the road from the main entrance. You can view the map online here.


The Royal Dublin Society, Ballsbridge

The line ran between what is now the Horse Show House Pub and the side of the AIB Bankcentre. The siding was built in 1893, one year before the Araby bazaar, with a permanent station opening in 1899, remaining in temporary use until 1971 when it was closed permanently.

Ballsbridge (North West)

Traveling northwest I cross the River Dodder at Ballsbridge. Nicholas Ball built the first bridge across the river, giving his name to the bridge and the area. It was widened and improved in 1904.

To the south west of the bridge, where the Herbert Park Hotel is now located, is the site of the Dublin by Lamplight Laundry, which was run by Protestants and is where Maria works in the story Clay.

    After the breakup at home the boys had got her that position in the Dublin by Lamplight laundry, and she liked it. She used to have such a bad opinion of protestants but now she thought they were very nice people, a little quiet and serious, but still very nice people to live with. Then she had her plants in the conservatory and she liked looking after them. She had lovely ferns and waxplants and, whenever anyone came to visit her, she always gave the visitor one or two slips from her conservatory. There was one thing she didn’t like and that was the tracts on the walls; but the matron was such a nice person to deal with, so genteel.

James Joyce, Clay, Dubliners (Page 83,84)

You can see the laundry identified on the Ordnance Survey Map as being a Female Penitentiary, which is probably appropriate.


Thom’s Directory 1904, Dublin by Lamplight

The Lamplight Laundry was set up in 1856, a Protestant institution for penitent females. Its inmates included women who had been working as prostitutes, or who had had children out of wedlock. The laundry employed them to provide services for many households and commercial firms in Dublin; the offices of the charity were at nearby Ballsbridge Terrace, while the location of the old laundry, which closed down in the early twentieth century, was close to the site of the present-day Herbert Park Hotel. 

Hugh Oram. Little Book Of Ballsbridge (Page 65)

Margot Norris, in her footnotes for Dubliners writes that the laundry provided work and a place to live for former and ageing prostitutes (page 82) . Perhaps this is why Joe’s wife is not so nice to Maria and perhaps Joyce is alluding to something when he writes;

Joe often used to say:

—Mamma is mamma but Maria is my proper mother.

James Joyce, Clay, Dubliners (Page 83)

Shelbourne Road (North)

I could follow the Merrion Road into Dublin following the tram route that Maria took to the Pillar and then Drumcondra. Instead I head down Shelbourne Road to pass places travelled by the central character Farrington in Counterparts.

Alphy from Clay may be based on William Murray who lived at 16 Shelbourne Road for a time and was James Joyce’s maternal uncle. Farrington in Counterparts was based in part on William Murray. As always people and places, real and imagined are connected in the writings of Joyce.

We pass one of Joyce’s former residences at 60 Shelbourne Road from where he wrote his first letter to Nora Barnacle on 15th June 1905. This house forms the end point of my Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a Pub blogpost which you can read in detail here.

Just up to the north is the house where Counterparts ends, at 16 Shelbourne Road where William Murray lived for a time. Farrington returns here from his evening of drinking in the city centre, and terrorises his son Tom.

    His tram let him down at Shelbourne Road and he steered his great body along in the shadow of the wall of the barracks. He loathed returning to his home. When he went in by the sidedoor he found the kitchen empty and the kitchen fire nearly out. 

James Joyce, Counterparts, Dubliners (Page 81)

I have written about Counterparts in the blogpost, Don’t beat me Pa! And I’ll…say a Hail Mary for you.which you can read here.

Haddington Road (West)

I run alongside the wall of Beggar’s Bush Barracks mentioned in the quote above and then head west on Haddington Road, in the opposite direction to which Farrington returns home in Counterparts. Joyce writes that Farrington took the Sandymount Tram. The Sandymount Tram went through Ringsend and did not go down Shelbourne Road. Instead it was the Irishtown Tram that crossed Shelbourne Road before heading east to Irishtown itself. I think I need to do another tram based blogpost.

Northumberland Road (North West)

Farrington’s tram took him southwards on Northumberland Road, but it would not be until Ulysses that the Road is specifically mentioned in Joyce’s writings as the Viceregal Cavalcade travels south along it, making its way from the Phoenix Park to the Mirus Bazaar to raise funds for The Mercer’s Hospital. Again this was a real fundraising bazaar and it makes an interesting comparison with the fundraising bazaar in Araby.

Lower Mount Street (North West)

At this point I have passed over the Grand Canal and head into the city centre.

As I run along Lower Mount Street it occurs to me that the street is largely uninteresting, with few interesting buildings or activities. The character of streets typically changes slowly over time. Perhaps the street was always uninteresting and hence why it does not feature in Joyce’s writings.

After I  planned the route and wrote this blogpost, I read John Banville’s book Time Pieces: A Dublin Memoir. He seems to have the same view of Lower Mount Street. He talks about Baggotonia, the area around the Grand Canal.

   The boundaries of Baggotonia are mysteriously fluid. For the purposes of brevity, I shall here follow Nancy Mitford’s example and employ the designations ‘B’ and ‘Non-B’ in referring to those things that are authentically Baggotonian and those that are not. Thus both ends of Lower Mount Street are B, but the street itself is decidely Non-B, and wasn’t even when I was young and many of its Georgian houses were still standing. At the eastern end of the thoroughfare are the canal and the leafier lower stretch of Percy Place, while at its western end it runs into Merrion Square; both these extremes are triumphantly B —are, indeed, characteristic examples of Baggotonia Superba. So what is it about the street itself that is Non-B? Even aboriginal sons and daughters of Baggotonia, of whom few, if indeed any, survive, could not tell you that; one just knows.

John Banville, Time Pieces: A Dublin Memoir (Page 48)

Merrion Square North (West)

I reach Merrion Square.

At this point Maria’s inbound tram from Ballsbridge to the Pillar passes Farrington’s outbound tram from O’Connell Bridge to Sandymount as Corley and his slavey’s are travelling outbound on the Donnybrook tram.

Though several characters in several stories pass through Merrion Square, including Maria and Farrington, the square is only mentioned in Two Gallants.

But then the Two Gallants go everywhere. There is a good description of their overall route on the Mapping Dubliners Project here. I will cross over and pass along many parts of their route on what is one of the longest rambles in Joyce’s writing.

Holles Street (North)

I turn and head down the hill at Holles Street, passing the Hospital to the right. The Oxen of the Sun episode of Ulysses takes place here.

Denzille Lane (West)

In Ulysses Stephen went down Denzille Lane, the shortest way from Holles Street to Westland Row train station, and I do likewise. Stephen was getting the train to Nighttown, but for me that’s for another run.

North Cumberland Street (North)

I run underneath the platforms at Westland Row, now Pearse Street Station. The station appears in Araby as quoted abovewhere the crowds press the doors above my head, not realising the train is a special going to the bazaar in the RDS.

Pearse Street (East)

I turn east on Pearse Street (formerly Great Brunswick Street) and travel a short distance in the same direction as Paddy Dignam’s funeral cortège in Ulysses as it makes its way to Glasnevin Cemetery.

Magennis Place (North West)

I run down a back lane called Magennis PlaceOn the historic maps it is called Maginness Place. I expect that there is a story as to the change and the swapping of the i and e in the name, but it will have to wait for another day.

Townsend Street (West)

Bloom crosses Townsend Street on his way to examine his letter from Martha Clifford, but I run along it, heading west.

Tara Street (North)

Bloom thinks of having a bath in Tara Street. The public baths were located on the southeast junction with Poolbeg Street, which I now head west on, running towards Mulligan’s pub.

Poolbeg Street (West)

I reach Mulligan’s pub.

Processed with Snapseed.

Mulligan’s Poolbeg Street

    When the Scotch House closed they went round to Mulligan’s. They went into the parlour at the back and O’Halloran ordered small hot specials all round. They were all beginning to feel mellow. Farrington was just standing another round when Weathers came back. Much to Farrington’s relief he drank a glass of bitter this time. Funds were getting low but they had enough to keep them going. 

James Joyce, Counterparts, Dubliners (Page 78)

Mulligan’s is often associated with Ulysses but it only appears in Counterparts in Dubliners. The confusion is added to by the sign, pictured above, that the owners have painted on the wall that refers to Bloomsday.

Corn Exchange Place (North)

Passing Mulligan’s I turn right and go by the site of the former Tivoli Theatre on the corner of Corn Exchange Place and Burgh Quay. Counterparts continues as do I,

Presently two young women with big hats and a young man in a check suit came in and sat at a table close by. Weathers saluted them and told the company that they were out of the Tivoli. Farrington’s eyes wandered at every moment in the direction of one of the young women. There was something striking in her appearance. An immense scarf of peacockblue muslin was wound round her hat and knotted in a great bow under her chin; and she wore bright yellow gloves, reaching to the elbow. Farrington gazed admiringly at the plump arm which she moved very often and with much grace; and when after a little time, she answered his gaze he admired still more her large dark brown eyes. The oblique staring expression in them fascinated him. She glanced at him once or twice and, when the party was leaving the room, she brushed against his chair and said O, pardon! in a London accent. He watched her leave the room in the hope that she would look back at him but he was disappointed. He cursed his want of money and cursed all the rounds he had stood, particularly all the whiskies and Apolinaris which he had stood to Weathers. If there was one thing that he hated it was a sponge. He was so angry that he lost count of the conversation of his friends.

James Joyce, Counterparts, Dubliners (Page 78,79)

Mulligan’s is the last of the pubs that Farrington visits. He leaves Mulligan’s to go to O’Connell Bridge and get the little Sandymount Tram home. Although it is around the corner, I have a way to go before I cross O’Connell Bridge.

Burgh Quay (West) 

I run onto Burgh Quay and then turn south, passing the former site of the Scotch House, where Farrington also drinks in Counterparts.

Hawkins Street (South)

I run south down Hawkins Street, one of the ugliest in Dublin. I pass the site of the Theatre Royal, mentioned in The Dead, and replaced by some of the most uninspiring architecture in Dublin.

Pearse Street / Great Brunswick Street (East)

I run eastwards out of town against the flow of traffic and Paddy Dignam’s cortège, passing the Police Station on my left and the walls of Trinity College on my right.

I pass the site of the Queens Theatre, the third of the great Dublin theatres, with The Tivoli and the Theatre Royal, all such a short distance from each other, and all gone.

Further up Pearse Street I pass the Antient Concert rooms, now The Academy, where Mrs. Kearney passes some unpleasant evenings in A Mother. 

When Mrs. Kearney arrived with her daughter at the Antient Concert Rooms on Wednesday night she did not like the look of things.

James Joyce, A Mother, Dubliners (Page 119)

   The night of the grand concert came. Mrs. Kearney, with her husband and daughter, arrived at the Antient Concert Rooms three quarters of an hour before the time at which the concert was to begin. By ill luck it was a rainy evening. 

James Joyce, A Mother, Dubliners (Page 121)

The Ancient Concert Rooms are also mentioned in The Dead as Mary Jane gave a pupil’s concert there every year. James Joyce also acted there, his performance reviewed in the Evening Telegraph.

Westland Row (South)

I turn south on Westland Row, passing this time to the front of Westland Row Station where Jimmy and his companions board a train and go to Kingstown in After the Race.

I pass St. Andrews Church and head towards Sweny’s, both so prominently featured in Ulysses. Sweny’s is well worth stopping into, to catch a reading, buy a book, or even a bar of lemon soap.

Merrion Street Lower (South)

I pass the house that Oscar Wilde and his family lived in, on the corner of Merrion Square and Merrion Street Lower, having passed his birthplace nearby on Westland Row. In Ulysses, Cashel Boyle O’Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell stops outside the house of Oscar Fingal O’Flahertie Wills Wilde’s house. A mouthful. I press on.

Merrion Square West (South)

Merrion Square West runs into Merrion Street

Merrion Street (South)

Linehan had arranged to meet Corley at half ten at Merrion Street and when he arrives late in the evening he watches Corley and his slavey. A stalker.

Merrion Row (West)

I turn west and run along the short connecting street toward Stephen’s Green.

St. Stephen’s Green (West)

St. Stephen’s Green is mentioned in several stories in Dubliners, including Two Gallants, and After the Race. In Two Gallants Lenehan passes the Shelbourne Hotel, which I pass and turn down the side of, heading north on Kildare Street.

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Shelbourne Hotel, St. Stephen’s Green

Kildare Street (North)

Lenehan and Corley seem to be all over the city. In Kildare Street they pass a harpist playing in the middle of the road. There were no trams on Kildare Street, but it is hard to imagine how such a scene could take place today on what is such a busy street.

    They walked along Nassau Street and then turned into Kildare Street. Not far from the porch of the club a harpist stood in the roadway, playing to a little ring of listeners. He plucked at the wires heedlessly, glancing quickly from time to time at the face of each newcomer and from time to time, wearily also, at the sky. His harp, too, heedless that her coverings had fallen about her knees, seemed weary alike of the eyes of strangers and of her master’s hands. One hand played in the bass the melody of Silent, O Moyle, while the other hand careered in the treble after each group of notes. The notes of the air sounded deep and full.

James Joyce, Two Gallants, Dubliners (Page 43)

Molesworth Street (West)

I run west along Molesworth Street, passing where Bloom leads the blind stripling across Dawson Street, heading towards South Frederick Street, where I used to live and where I first read Ulysses as an architecture student.

Dawson Street (North)

I run just a short distance down Dawson Street, where the Mr. Henchy has been canvassing in Ivy Day at the Committee Room, turning into Duke Street and missing my chance to see the virgin at Hodges Figgis’ window.

Duke Street (West)

I pass Ulysses Rare Books at 10 Duke Street. Thankfully it is closed as otherwise I may not be able to resist popping in. You shouldn’t.

On Duke Street I pass yet another pub that Farrington had a drink in, in this case, Davy Byrne’s, where Farrington meets Nosey Flynn. Davy Byrne’s is famously written about in Ulysses where Leopold Bloom also meets Nosey Flynn and has a glass of burgundy and a gorgonzola sandwich. I don’t have time for either now, but will return.

You may have the time and can read the history of the Davy Byrne’s pub here

Leaving Davy Byrne’s I have now run past all of Farrington’s pubs. A tram to Shelbourne Road would be quite tempting now.

Grafton Street (North)

Turning into Grafton Street I pass Brown Thomas and Marks and Spencer. Brown Thomas was originally located on the site occupied but Marks and Spencer but has relocated across the road to the former site of Switzers. Brown Thomas was, and is, one of the most expensive shops in Dublin.

Mrs. Kearney bought some lovely blush-pink charmeuse in Brown Thomas’s to let into the front of Kathleen’s dress. It cost a pretty penny; but there are occasions when a little expense is justifiable. 

James Joyce, A Mother, Dubliners (Page 118,119)

Grafton Street has been pedestrianised for many years but in After The Race Rivière, Ségouin, Villona and Jimmy get to drive along it.

The story Grace begins in a pub in a laneway off Grafton Street,

    The three men left the bar and the crowd sifted through the doors in to the laneway. The manager brought the constable to the stairs to inspect the scene of the accident. They agreed that the gentleman must have missed his footing. The customers returned to the counter and a curate set about removing the traces of blood from the floor.
    When they came out into Grafton Street, Mr. Power whistled for an outsider.

James Joyce, Grace, Dubliners (Page 130)

It is not possible to know exactly which pub Joyce refers to in Grace, but I think that it is likely to have been The Empire in Adam Court. It is the only pub on a laneway off Grafton Street and is mentioned in Ulysses as Bob Doran has spent the afternoon there. It is directly opposite Wicklow Street and today is The Porterhouse Central.

Wicklow Street (West)

Ivy Day in the Committee Room begins around the corner in Wicklow Street so I head down here, with Grafton Street at my back. Ivy Day commemorates the death of Charles Stewart Parnell and as Siobhán Doyle mentions in Grave Matters (page 156) it gets its name as mourners at Parnell’s funeral spontaneously took ivy from the walls of Glasnevin Cemetery to put in their buttonholes as a mark of respect.

Andrew Street (North)

Thomas Malone Chandler in A Little Cloud arrives at Corless’s and hesitates before entering. Corless’s was on the corner of Andrew Street and Church Lane. I have written about Corless’s in the blogpost, He knew the value of the name, which you can read here.

Suffolk Street (East)

Suffolk Street gets a brief mention in Ivy Day at The Committee Room. It’s a short street and shortly after running down it, I turn north at the bottom of Grafton Street, not quite making like a bird for Trinity College, but at least I am sure that I know where it is.

Grafton Street (North)

I pass the Provost’s House and outside railings of Trinity College as many of Joyce’s wanderers do. Considering the amount of walking in his Joyce’s works it seems notable that nobody goes into the College, activities inside like the bicycle races and the cricket mentioned only in passing.

Dame Street (East)

In The Dead Patrick Morkan’s horse Johnny was headed, as am I, to the Phoenix Park. Johnny got confused by King Billy’s statue in Dame Street.

—The late lamented Patrick Morkan, our grandfather, that is, explained Gabriel, commonly known in his later years as the old gentleman, was a glue-boiler.
—O, now, Gabriel, said aunt Kate, laughing, he had a starch mill.
—Well, glue or starch, said Gabriel, the old gentleman had a horse by the name of Johnny. And Johnny used to work in the old gentleman’s mill, walking round and round in order to drive the mill. That was all very well; but now comes the tragic part about Johnny. One fine day the old gentleman thought he’d like to drive out with the quality to a military review in the park.
—The Lord have mercy on his soul, said aunt Kate compassionately.
—Amen, said Gabriel. So the old gentleman, as I said, harnessed Johnny and put on his very best tall hat and his very best stock collar and drove out in grand style from his ancestral mansion somewhere near Back Lane, I think.
    Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Malins, at Gabriel’s manner and aunt Kate said:
—O, now, Gabriel, he didn’t live in Back Lane, really. Only the mill was there.
—Out from the mansion of his forefathers, continued Gabriel, he drove with Johnny. And everything went on beautifully until Johnny came in sight of King Billy’s statue: and whether he fell in love with the horse King Billy sits on or whether he thought he was back again in the mill, anyhow he began to walk round the statue.
    Gabriel paced in a circle round the hall in his goloshes amid the laughter of the others.
—Round and round he went, said Gabriel, and the old gentleman, who was a very pompous old gentleman, was highly indignant. Go on, sir! What do you mean, sir? Johnny! Johnny! Most extraordinary conduct! Can’t understand the horse!

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 180, 181)

There is an interesting blogpost on the statue here. I am relieved that the statue is gone lest I get caught up running round and round it.

On the north east side of the street in After The Race Ségouin is about to stop the car.

They drove down Dame Street. The street was busy with unusual traffic, loud with the horns of motorists and the gongs of impatient tramdrivers. Near the Bank Ségouin drew up and Jimmy and his friend alighted. A little knot of people collected on the footpath to pay homage to the snorting motor. The party was to dine together that evening in Ségouin’s hotel and, meanwhile, Jimmy and his friend, who was staying with him, were to go home to dress. The car steered out slowly for Grafton Street while the two young men pushed their way through the knot of gazers. They walked northward with a curious feeling of disappointment in the exercise, while the city hung its pale globes of light above them in a haze of summer evening.

James Joyce, After The Race, Dubliners (Page 35)

Ségouin’s hotel is not named, but I expect it may be The Shelbourne as he drives up Grafton Street towards his hotel for dinner, the five young men stroll along St. Stephen’s Green after their dinner, and Joyce has mentioned, and I have run by The Shelbourne earlier.

Meanwhile our Two Gallants, Corley and Lenehan are also here in Dame Street.

—And where did you pick her up, Corley? he asked.
Corley ran his tongue swiftly along his upper lip.
—One night, man, he said, I was going along Dame Street and I spotted a fine tart under Waterhouse’s clock and said goodnight, you know. So we went for a walk round by the canal and she told me she was a slavey in a house in Baggot Street. I put my arm round her and squeezed her a bit that night. Then next Sunday, man, I met her by appointment. We went out to Donnybrook and I brought her into a field there. She told me she used to go with a dairyman. … It was fine, man. Cigarettes every night she’d bring me and paying the tram out and back. And one night she brought me two bloody fine cigars—O, the real cheese, you know, that the old fellow used to smoke. … I was afraid, man, she’d get in the family way. But she’s up to the dodge.

James Joyce, Two Gallants, Dubliners (Page 39,40)

Just like Corley in Two Gallants, I pass Waterhouse’s ClockThe clock is also mentioned in the Anna Livia Plurabelle episode of Finnegans Wake. You can hear James Joyce reading Anna Livia Plurabelle here.

There is a picture of Waterhouses’s and its clock here.

Parliament Street (North)

I turn north onto Parliament Street with my back to City Hall, in the opposite direction to Lenehan who takes my place on Dame Street.

I pass the Turk’s Head at 27 Parliament Street, noted in Ivy Day at the Committee Room as Kavanagh’s  where Long John Fanning and Father Keon are known to drink. Long John Fanning is still there in Ulysses.

East Essex Street (West)


The Norseman, formerly Farrington’s and O’Neills

I pass the Norseman Pub, formerly Farrington’s and before that O’Neill’s, the first of Farrington’s drinking many stops.

From the street door he walked on furtively on the inner side of the path towards the corner and all at once dived into a doorway. He was now safe in the dark snug of O’Neill’s shop and, filling up the little window that looked into the bar with his inflamed face, the colour of dark wine or dark meat, he called out:
—Here, Pat, give us a g.p., like a good fellow.
    The curate brought him a glass of plain porter. The man drank it at a gulp and asked for a caraway seed. He put his penny on the counter and, leaving the curate to grope for it in the gloom, retreated out of the snug as furtively as he had entered it.

James Joyce, Counterparts, Dubliners (Page 72)

I pass Eustace Street on my right, from where Farrington comes from his office for his first drink, a glass of plain porter.

Temple Bar (West)

Later Farrington passes through Temple Bar going quickly as he begins his pub crawl.

    He went through the narrow alley of Temple Bar quickly, muttering to himself that they could all go to hell because he was going to have a good night of it. 

James Joyce, Counterparts, Dubliners (Page 76)

Fleet Street (East)

I am not sure I am travelling quickly like Farrington but I pass through Fleet Street where he goes to pawn his watch in Terry Kelly’s. Jack Mooney the landlady’s son and hard case also worked in Fleet Street.

Westmoreland Street (North)

I leave the route that Farrington took and head north on Westmoreland Street. Westmoreland Street is a prominent route in the City and is mentioned in Two Gallants, Counterparts and Grace, as well as several times in Ulysses.

Joyce describes the street;

In Westmoreland Street the footpaths were crowded with young men and women returning from business and ragged urchins ran here and there yelling out the names of the evening editions. The man passed through the crowd, looking on the spectacle generally with proud satisfaction and staring masterfully at the office-girls. His head was full of the noises of tram gongs and swishing trolleys and his nose already sniffed the curling fumes of punch.

James Joyce, Counterparts, Dubliners (Page 76)

O’Connell Bridge (North)

Farrington waits sullenfaced faced on the bridge for his outbound tram. I won’t be passing him again. Gabriel Conroy crosses the bridge in the opposite direction and is in much better spirits in The Dead as he heads to the Gresham Hotel for a night with his wife Greta.

O’Connell Street (North)

As they come to start of O’Connell Street they pass the statue of Daniel O’Connell, whitened by the winter snowfall.


Statue od Daniel O’Connell

The horse galloped along wearily under the murky morning sky, dragging his old rattling box after his heels, and Gabriel was again in a cab with her, galloping to catch the boat, galloping to their honeymoon.
    As the cab drove across O’Connell Bridge Miss O’Callaghan said:
—They say you never cross O’Connell Bridge without seeing a white horse.
—I see a white man this time, said Gabriel.
—Where? asked Mr. Bartell D’Arcy.
    Gabriel pointed to the statue, on which lay patches of snow. Then he nodded familiarly to it and waved his hand.
—Goodnight, Dan, he said gaily.

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 186,187)

It is sunny as I run by, with Dan’s head whitened by bird shit rather than snowfall.

A short distance further I pass directly in front of the General Post Office so memorably thought of by Mrs. Kearney,

She respected her husband in the same way as she respected the General Post Office, as something large, secure and fixed.

James Joyce, A Mother, Dubliners (Page 121)

I pass The Spire, formerly the site of Nelson’s Pillar. It was here that many of the Dublin trams terminated and where Maria in Clay caught the outbound Drumcondra tram. I previously wrote about the trams of Dublin in a blogpost which you can read here. Tramlines, having been taken out of O’Connell Street are now being reinstalled.

I cross the road and make my way to the front of The Gresham Hotel. I am now in the same place where Greta and Gabriel Conroy stood.

    She leaned for a moment on his arm in getting out of the cab and while standing at the curbstone, bidding the others good-night. She leaned lightly on his arm, as lightly as when she had danced with him a few hours before. He had felt proud and happy then, happy that she was his, proud of her grace and wifely carriage. But now, after the kindling again of so many memories, the first touch of her body, musical and strange and perfumed, sent through him a keen pang of lust. Under cover of her silence he pressed her arm closely to his side: and, as they stood at the hotel door, he felt that they had escaped from their lives and duties, escaped from home and friends and run away together with wild and radiant hearts to a new adventure.

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 187)

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The Gresham Hotel, O’Connell Street

Physically The Dead and Dubliners end in The Gresham Hotel, but spiritually they end in the west, and it is west that I am ultimately heading. There is a way to go yet and I run on.

Cathal Brugha Street (East)

I travel down Cathal Brugha Street, formerly Findlater Place before turning into Marlborough Street.

Marlborough Street (South)

Marlborough Street is dominated by the Pro-Cathedral. Mr. Kearney and his family attend the Pro-Cathedral on special Sundays and it is in the Pro-Cathedral on Marlborough Street that Mrs. Mooney goes to pray, though probably not for her tenant Bob Doran, who could have used the prayers.

It was seventeen minutes past eleven: she would have lots of time to have the matter out with Mr. Doran and then catch short twelve at Marlborough Street.

James Joyce, The Boarding House, Dubliners (Page 52)

North Earl Street (West)

I turn into the very short North Earl Street, where Corley saw his slavey, in close proximity to Nighttown, Dublin’s red light district immortalised in the Circe episode of Ulysses.

—She was… a bit of all right, he said regretfully.
    He was silent again. Then he added:
—She’s on the turf now. I saw her driving down Earl Street one night with two fellows with her on a car.
—I suppose that’s your doing, said Lenehan.
—There was others at her before me, said Corley philosophically.

James Joyce, Two Gallants, Dubliners (Page 42)

North Earl Street, being opposite the Pillar was located at the major junction for north and southbound trams and it is here that Maria in Clay buys mixed penny cakes in Downes cakeshop, though she refrains from buying their plum cake as it does not have enough almond icing. No matter, she bought it elsewhere and then left it behind her on the outbound tram.

I pass the oddly placed James Joyce statue before turning south on O’Connell Street.

O’Connell Street (South)

I travel south on the other side of Daniel O’Connell’s statue, making my way towards the River Liffey.

Eden Quay (East)

I turn east on Eden Quay heading out of the city to Dublin Bay passing Mooney’s Sur Mer mentioned in Ulysses.

Custom House Quay (East)

There are great scenes around the Custom House in Ulysses as Bloom and Stephen end their evening at the cabman’s shelter, meeting the alleged Skin The Goat Fitzharris, passing the stone minding Gumley and even meeting that ever present Dubliner Corley, in and around the Custom House.

The quays do not feature much in Dubliners. People cross the River, but few walk up and down it, a pattern which continues today.

North Wall (East)

I head down North Wall where in the story Eveline, the character in the title of the story cannot get on the boat to emigrate to Argentina with Frank.

    She stood among the swaying crowd in the station at the North Wall. He held her hand and she knew that he was speaking to her, saying something about the passage over and over again. The station was full of soldiers with brown baggages. Through the wide doors of the sheds she caught a glimpse of the black mass of the boat lying in beside the quay wall, with illumined portholes. She answered nothing. She felt her cheek pale and cold and out of a maze of distress, she prayed to God to direct her, to show her what was her duty. The boat blew a long mournful whistle into the mist. If she went, tomorrow she would be on the sea with Frank, steaming towards Buenos Ayres. Their passage had been booked. Could she still draw back after all he had done for her? Her distress awoke a nausea in her body and she kept moving her lips in silent fervent prayer.
—A bell clanged upon her heart. She felt him seize her hand:
    All the seas of the world tumbled about her heart. He was drawing her into them: he would drown her. She gripped with both hands at the iron railing.
    No! No! No! It was impossible. Her hands clutched the iron in frenzy. Amid the seas she sent a cry of anguish!
—Eveline! Evvy!
    He rushed beyond the barrier and called to her to follow. He was shouted at to go on but he still called to her. She set her white face to him, passive, like a helpless animal. Her eyes gave him no sign of love or farewell or recognition.

James Joyce, Eveline, Dubliners (Page 31,32)

Perhaps if her surname was Barnacle Eveline would have stuck with Frank as Joyce’s father commented on Nora. Nora Barnacle and James Joyce emigrated from Ireland from this point in 1904.Joyce had already had the narrator of an encounter state,

    I wanted real adventures to happen to myself. But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad.

James Joyce, An Encounter, Dubliners (Page 13)

New Wapping Street (North)

Most of the city on this run has a similar layout and architecture to when Joyce wrote Dubliners.The Docklands are much changed with much of the original streetscape obliterated with modern commercial buildings.

Mayor Street Upper (West)

Mayor Street was previously disjointed, broken by the railway lines, which no longer reach the quays at this point.

Spencer Dock (West)

The new Spencer Dock roadway links the previously separated Manor Street Lower and Manor Street Upper and I run along it, crossing over the Royal Canal.

Guild Street (North)

I ran along Guild Street on my Ulysses 21k and I decide to run off and go up Sherriff Street Lower, a welcome return to the original architecture and a cobbled street. The cobbles, last felt in East Essex Street and Temple Bar are uncomfortable to run on, so I move to the pavement.

Sheriff Street Lower (West)

I run along Sherriff Street Lower, to pass under the platforms at Connolly, formerly Amiens Street Station where the narrator of Araby gets on the train that takes him to the RDS. We have now passed the platform he ended his journey on, passed under the one he started and also under the one he stopped at in Westland Row. I now run towards where he began his journey in North Richmond Street.

Amiens Street (North)

I pass several pubs mentioned in Ulysses and head north out of the city. I been in some and have plans to return to all of them for a leisurely drink.

North Strand Road (North East)

The run takes me to the Five Lamps where I head north east out of the city. At this point I join Fr. Conmee from Ulysses as he heads out of town, stepping onto an outbound tram at Newcomen Bridge and pass Stephen Dedalus heading into his lectures in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.

Charleville Mall (North West)

Joyce describes the Charleville Mall and Newcomen Bridge in An Encounter where the narrator skips school, meeting his friend Mahony at Newcomen Bridge for an adventure in Ringsend.

    That night I slept badly. In the morning I was firstcomer to the bridge as I lived nearest. I hid my books in the long grass near the ashpit at the end of the garden where nobody ever came and hurried along the canal bank. It was a mild sunny morning in the first week of June. I sat up on the coping of the bridge admiring my frail canvas shoes which I had diligently pipeclayed overnight and watching the docile horses pulling a tramload of business people up the hill. All the branches of the tall trees which lined the mall were gay with little light green leaves and the sunlight slanted through them on to the water. The granite stone of the bridge was beginning to be warm and I began to pat it with my hands in time to an air in my head. I was very happy.

James Joyce, An Encounter , Dubliners (Page 14)

I previously wrote a small blogpost about An Encounter, Swaddlers! Swaddlers! which you can read here.

Dunne Street (South West)

Joyce writes that the narrator of An Encounter lives nearby, possibly in North Richmond Street where Joyce lived and the next story Araby begins. I head there by means of the back lanes which any mitching boys would have used.

North William Street (North West)

I pass the dominant Saint Agatha’s Roman Catholic on Dunne Street before turning up the narrow North William Street, into Richmond Cottages. Of all the places in Dublin that I have run on in these blogs, it is this street that seems the least changed from Joyce’s time.

Richmond Cottages North (North West)

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Richmond Cottages

The career of our play brought us through the dark muddy lanes behind the houses where we ran the gantlet of the rough tribes from the cottages, to the back doors of the dark dripping gardens where odours arose from the ashpits, to the dark odorous stables where a coachman smoothed and combed the horse or shook music from the buckled harness. 

James Joyce, Araby , Dubliners (Page 21)

Luckily I don’t meet any rough tribes from the cottages as I run through the Cottages to North Richmond Street.

Richmond Street North (South)

North Richmond Street, being blind, was a quiet street except at the hour when the Christian Brothers’ School set the boys free. An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours in a square ground. The other houses of the street, conscious of decent lives within them, gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces.

James Joyce, Araby , Dubliners (Page 20)

Joyce does not describe the architecture of Dublin in any detail, rather building up the city though the people, their wanderings and encounters. The passage describing North Richmond Street is one of the most descriptive. The house at the blind end of the street is still there and I run southwards with my back to it, passing the Christian Brothers on my right.

I have written about Araby in the blogpost, Brown Imperturbable Faces, which you can read here.

North Circular Road (North West)

I now cross paths with Fr. Conmee who is walking in the opposite direction to me as he tries to catch a tram out of the city.

Charles Street Great (West)

I continue to run in the opposite direction to Fr. Conmee in Ulysses. I wonder why some of the streets like this one are so wide, when the carriages that traveled along were so narrow. Time for more research.

Mountjoy Square East  (North West)

I run towards Gardiner Street Church, which Fr. Conmee left on his way to Marino. This section also forms part of my crossing Dublin without passing a pub blogpost.

Mountjoy Square North (South West)

I turn south west and leave the pub puzzle route.

Gardiner Street Upper (North East)

Grace which started near Grafton Street ends here in the Jesuit Church of Saint Francis Xavier in Gardiner Street Upper, where the hapless Tom Kernan is hustled to a retreat, the same church that Joe Dillon’s parents attend eight o’clock mass every morning in An Encounter.

    The transept of the Jesuit Church in Gardiner Street was almost full; and still at every moment gentlemen entered from the side door and, directed by the lay brother, walked on tiptoe along the aisles until they found seating accommodation. The gentlemen were all well dressed and orderly. The light of the lamps of the church fell upon an assembly of black clothes and white collars, relieved here and there by tweeds, on dark mottled pillars of green marble and on lugubrious canvasses. The gentlemen sat in the benches, having hitched their trousers slightly above their knees and laid their hats in security. They sat well back and gazed formally at the distant speck of red light which was suspended before the high altar.

James Joyce, Grace, Dubliners (Page 149)

Dorset Street (South West)

Lenehan has been talking in a pub in Dorset Street all afternoon. Exactly which pub is not mentioned. It could have been Larry O’Rourke’s or M’Auley’s which are both mentioned in Ulysses. Larry O’ Rourke’s is closest to Rutland Square and seems more likely.

M’Auley’s at 39 Dorset Street Lower is where the men gather before accompanying Mr. Kernan to the retreat in Grace. M’Auley’s still exists and has traded for many years as The Big Tree.

As I turn into Hardwicke Place, Larry O’Rouke’s at 74 Dorset Street Upper is on the opposite corner, trading now as The Eccles Townhouse.

Hardwicke Place (South)

I am going faster than a relaxed walking pace and cross the circus before George’s church diametrically, the chord in any circle being less than the arc which it subtends.

Hardwicke Street (South West))

On to Hardwicke Street and home to the landlady, Mrs. Mooney and the luckless tenant, Bob Doran in The Boarding House. Mrs. Mooney’s daughter, Polly has been secretly meeting  Bob Doran on the third landing.

Polly knew that she was being watched, but still her mother’s persistent silence could not be misunderstood. There had been no open complicity between mother and daughter, no open understanding but, though people in the house began to talk of the affair, still Mrs. Mooney did not intervene. Polly began to grow a little strange in her manner and the young man was evidently perturbed. At last, when she judged it to be the right moment, Mrs. Mooney intervened. She dealt with moral problems as a cleaver deals with meat: and in this case she had made up her mind.

James Joyce, The Boarding House, Dubliners (Page 51)

Bob Doran appears again in Ulysses spending his day on a bender.

Joyce lived briefly in 29 Hardwicke Street in 1893, the first place he lived on the north side of the city as the family moved from relative prosperity on the southside, into poverty on the inner northside of Dublin.

North Frederick Street (South East)

I get some relief as I head downhill on North Frederick Street.

Parnell Square (South East) 

Rutland Square, now Parnell Square, is where the two gallants, Lenehan and Corley first appear. Linehan has been drinking in Dorset Street and the companions set off on long rambles across Dublin on many of the streets I have already run along and across.

Parnell Street (South West)

As I turn into Parnell Street I pass the Rotunda where Mr. Duffy first met Mrs. Sinico, and in a short time I will pass where he last met her in the Phoenix Park.

I started my run with Mrs. Sinico at Sydney Parade. Joyce begins Dubliners with The Sisters which has Great Britain Street, now Parnell Street as its central point of action. I say action but the stories are defined by the stasis of Dublin. Dubliners opens,

There was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night I had passed the house (it was vacation time) and studied the lighted square of window: and night after night I had found it lighted in the same way, faintly and evenly. If he was dead, I thought, I would see the reflection of candles on the darkened blind for I knew that two candles must be set at the head of a corpse. He had often said to me: I am not long for this world, and I had thought his words idle. Now I knew they were true. Every night as I gazed up at the window I said softly to myself the word paralysis

James Joyce, Sisters, Dubliners (Page 3)

Paralysis and death open the stories and these themes run through.

King’s Inn Street (North West)

I run North along King’s Inn Street past the Williams and Woods building, confectioners mentioned in Ulysses. From here I can see the King’s Inns at the end of Henrietta Street where Little Chandler works and from where he leaves to meet Ignatius Gallaher in Corless’s

Bolton Street (South West)

I reach Bolton Street and head southwest as Little Chandler must have done when he came down Henrietta Street on his way to Capel Street.

Capel Street (South)

    Little Chandler quickened his pace. For the first time in his life he felt himself superior to the people he passed. For the first time his soul revolted against the dull inelegance of Capel Street. 

James Joyce, A Little Cloud , Dubliners (Page 59)

I don’t quicken my pace but I reflect on this sentence, which allied to my studies in the School of Architecture in Bolton Street, got me started on this journey of reading writing and ruminating about the works of James Joyce.

Grattan Bridge (South)

Grattan Bridge Looking East

Little Chandler crosses the Liffey and I take the same course. I run over what is commonly called Capel Street Bridge, Little Chandler crossed Grattan Bridge and Bloom and Blazes Boylan cross Essex Bridge, and they are all the same bridge.

In Two Gallants Lenehan also travels south on Capel Street and crosses the bridge as he makes his way towards City Hall and he lingers nearby in the Ormond Hotel in Ulysses. There is no getting away from him and Corley.

Essex Quay (West)

Whereas Little Chandler and Lenehan head east into the centre of the city, I head west along the quays. It is a largely uninspiring run, even in the early morning when there is little traffic about.

Wood Quay (West)

In a previous blogpost, Pprrpffrrppffff, I wrote about the smells of Dublin. You can read about it here.

Merchant’s Quay (West)

I cross the junction with Winetavern Street, on the corner of which stood Gabriel and Gretta Conroy, Miss O’Callaghan and Bartell D’Arcy as they waited for a cab to take them home after the annual dance of the Misses Morkan.

I riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, where Julia Morkan was the leading Soprano and where Finnegans Wake opens.

Usher’s Quay (West)

Usher’s Quay is dull and uninteresting, something to be passed through and endured at the end of a long run, or probably even a short stroll.

Usher’s Island (West)

To the north of the middle of Usher’s Island is the bombastic design of the James Joyce bridge, designed by Santiago Calatrava. It strikes me that it is an overblown solution to a simple problem. I am not alone in my view. Christine Casey in her book The Buildings of Ireland; Dublin (page 696) writes, It is a very large statement for this cramped and and modest site. Joyce might well have approved!

The house on Usher’s Island rivals 7 Eccles Street as the most famous house in Joyce’s writing. Joyce describes it as dark and gaunt, and it is here that Gabriel Conroy makes his timeless speech,

—Ladies and gentlemen.
    A new generation is growing up in our midst, a generation actuated by new ideas and new principles. It is serious and enthusiastic for these new ideas and its enthusiasm, even when it is misdirected, is, I believe, in the main sincere. But we are living in a sceptical and, if I may use the phrase, a thoughttormented age: and sometimes I fear that this new generation, educated or hypereducated as it is, will lack those qualities of humanity, of hospitality, of kindly humour which belonged to an older day. Listening tonight to the names of all those great singers of the past it seemed to me, I must confess, that we were living in a less spacious age. Those days might, without exaggeration, be called spacious days: and if they are gone beyond recall let us hope, at least, that in gatherings such as this we shall still speak of them with pride and affection, still cherish in our hearts the memory of those dead and gone great ones whose fame the world will not willingly let die.
—Hear, hear! said Mr. Browne loudly.
—But yet,continued Gabriel, his voice falling into a softer inflection, there are always in gatherings such as this sadder thoughts that will recur to our minds: thoughts of the past, of youth, of changes, of absent faces that we miss here tonight. Our path through life is strewn with many such sad memories: and were we to brood upon them always we could not find the heart to go on bravely with our work among the living. We have all of us living duties and living affections which claim, and rightly claim, our strenuous endeavours.
    Therefore, I will not linger on the past. I will not let any gloomy moralising intrude upon us here tonight. Here we are gathered together for a brief moment from the bustle and rush of our everyday routine. We are met here as friends, in the spirit of good fellowship, as colleagues also, to a certain extent, in the true spirit of camaraderie, and as the guests of—what shall I call them?—the Three Graces of the Dublin musical world.

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 177,178)

Gabriel Conroy looks out the window,

Gabriel’s warm trembling fingers tapped the cold pane of the window. How cool it must be outside! How pleasant it would be to walk out alone, first along by the river and then through the park! 

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 166)

So I do, I run along the River and into the Park, leaving The Dead and Dubliners and enjoying the river and Park.

Victoria Quay (West)

I run along Victoria Quay at the northern end of the Guinness St. James’s Gate brewery. The Guinness family and their famous product are mentioned in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Ulysses and Finnegans Wake and despite a lot of alcohol consumption in Dubliners the name Guinness does not appear.

In a previous blogpost, Ghinees hies good for you, I wrote about the smells of Dublin. You can read about it here.

King’s Bridge (North)

I pass Hueston, formerly Kingsbridge Station and run over the bridge from which it originally took its name. The run started at Sydney Parade, the opening railway station in the story  A Painful Case and it is apt that it ends near the station mentioned at the close of that story. Death appears at the opening of Dubliners and of the collection ends with The Dead, but it is at the end of A Painful Case where it is so keenly felt.

Beyond the river he saw a goods train winding out of Kingsbridge Station, like a worm with a fiery head winding through the darkness, obstinately and laboriously. It passed slowly out of sight but still he heard in his ears the laborious drone of the engine reiterating the syllables of her name.
    He turned back the way he had come, the rhythm of the engine pounding in his ears. He began to doubt the reality of what memory told him. He halted under a tree and allowed the rhythm to die away. He could not feel her near him in the darkness nor her voice touch his ear. He waited for some minutes listening. He could hear nothing: the night was perfectly silent. He listened again: perfectly silent. He felt that he was alone.

James Joyce, A Painful Case, Dubliners (Page 98,99)

Parkgate Street (West)

I now am running towards the Phoenix Park, close to where the little cakeshop near the Parkgate would have been and in which where Mr. Duffy and Mrs. Sinico had their last meeting. William O’Connor confectioner and caterer had premises at 32 and 40 Parkgate Street North, and this may be the location of the little cakeshop Joyce had in mind.

Chesterfield Avenue (North West)

Chesterfield avenue rises up into the Park and I run up the hill before turning left to my finish at the Wellington Monument. A hill at the end of a run is never easy, but I expect a much larger one on my next planned run, the Finnegans Wake 21k.

Wellington Monument: End

The run ends at the Wellington Monument, towards the west where Gabriel’s thoughts lie.

The snow would be lying on the branches of the trees and forming a bright cap on the top of the Wellington monument.

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 166, 167)

The last story in Dubliners ends,

A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 194)

As Gabriel contemplates making the long journey westward, mine ends.

Running Notes

I planned a run that was 21.1 km long which is a half marathon. I used a map planner and you can see the details here. I planned a few different approaches to the monument in case my actual run was too short or too long. Once in the park I ran directly to the monument across the grass. My GPS indicated I had run 21.1km when I reached the Wellington Monument, and I ran around it to take it all in.

References cited

Banville, J. (2016) Time Pieces: A Dublin Memoir. Photographs by Paul Joyce. Dublin, Ireland: Hachette Books Ireland.

Casey, C. (2005) Dublin: The City within the Grand and Royal Canals and the Circular Road, with the Phoenix Park. New Haven, Connecticut, United States: Yale University Press.

Gifford, D. (1982) Joyce Annotated: Notes for Dubliners and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Second Edition, Revised and Enlarged. 2nd edn. Berkeley, California, United States: University of California Press.

Griffith, L.M. and Wallace, C. (eds.) (2016) Grave Matters: Death and Dying in Dublin, 1500 to the Present. Dublin, Ireland: Four Courts Press.Joyce, J. (1986)

Ulysses: Corrected texts (ed. Gabler, H.W., with Steppe, W. and Melchior, C., Afterword Groden, M.) First Vintage Books Edition, New York, USA.

Joyce, J. (2006) Dubliners, Authoritative Text, Contexts, Criticism. Edited by Margot Norris, Hans Walter Gabler, and Walter Hettche. New York, United States: Norton, W. W. & Company.

Oram, H. (2014) The Little Book of Ballsbridge. Luton, United Kingdom: The History Press.


There is a longer bibliography of background material here


You can see more on my research output on the Dublin Institute of Technology repository Arrow, here


With thanks to Paul Sweeney for being the rabbit in the run.

and to my friend John Morkan, forever in the west.

Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper



The Quadrangle at University College Cork


Cork Route on

   Stephen was once again seated beside his father in the corner of a railway carriage at Kingsbridge. He was travelling with his father by the night mail to Cork. As the train steamed out of the station he recalled his childish wonder of years before and every event of his first day in Clongowes. But he felt no wonder now. He saw the darkening lands slipping away past him, the silent telegraph poles passing his window swiftly every four seconds, the little glimmering stations, manned by a few silent sentries, flung by the mail behind her and twinkling for a moment in the darkness like fiery grains flung backwards by a runner.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 76)

James Joyce is famous for writing about Dublin. What is less well-known is his paternal ancestry in the county and city of Cork. His father, John Stanislaus Joyce was born in Cork in 1849 and father and son went together to the southern capital in 1893 for the sale of family property. James Joyce fictionalises the journey in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man when the young Stephen Dedalus visits Cork with his father Simon, making the journey south on the train from Kingsbridge, now Hueston Station.

John Stanislaus Joyce was an only child and on his birthday at the age of 21 on the 4th of July 1870, he inherited £1000 and properties with an annual rental income of £325.When his mother died in 1881, the year before James Joyce was born, John Stanislaus inherited property in Cork city with an annual rent of some £500 per year, the key part of which was on White Street, just to the south of the southern channel of the River Lee.

John Stanislaus Joyce was commonly known as Jack, just as his son James was commonly called Jim. His grandson Ken Monaghan writes.

Jack’s father James (another James) had married Ellen O’Connell who was the daughter of a wealthy Cork businessman and the young couple lived in a nice house in a fashionable suburb of the city. Jack was to be their only child and as such he was spoiled and cosseted and brought up to believe that the O’Connell-Joyces, as they called themselves, were special and that the male members of the family were gentlemen and should always behave as such. The latter idea appealed to young Jack since his concept of a gentleman was someone who would never have to work for a living. Jack Joyce throughout his life did his best to live up to this ideal.

Ken Monaghan Joyce’s Dublin Family (p.23,24)

His son Stanislaus described him, Pappie is the only child of an only child (his father) and therefore the spoiled son of a spoiled son, the spendthrift son of a spendthrift.

Stanislaus Joyce, The Complete Dublin Diary of Stanislaus Joyce (p.5)

John Stanislaus left Cork for Dublin as a prosperous single man in the mid 1870’s. This all changed when he got there. His financial decline began in Dublin but it was largely influenced by events that took place in Cork.

Route Notes

Just as the Joyce’s and the Daedalus’s did, I took the train to Cork from Dublin, in my case from Hueston Station and in theirs, Kingsbridge. I passed through Port Laoise, then called Maryborough and arrived in Cork at Kent Station, formerly Glanmire Road Station. The journey was largely the same but all of the names have changed since the foundation of the Irish State.

Joyce wrote about his experiences of visiting Cork in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and he also wrote of travelling south by train in Ulysses where the train carrying Molly and Leopold Bloom is mentioned passing through Maryborough on its way to Mallow.

   At Maryborough he fell asleep. When he awoke the train had passed out of Mallow and his father was stretched asleep on the other seat. The cold light of the dawn lay over the country, over the unpeopled fields and the closed cottages. 

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 76)

Stephen fell asleep in Maryborough, the same place that Bloom buys some soup.

…something always happens with him the time going to the Mallow concert at Maryborough ordering boiling soup for the two of us then the bell rang out he walks down the platform with the soup splashing about taking spoonfuls of it hadnt he the nerve and the waiter after him making a holy show of us screeching and confusion for the engine to start but he wouldnt pay till he finished it the two gentlemen in the 3rd class carriage said he was quite right so he was too hes so pigheaded sometimes when he gets a thing into his head a good job he was able to open the carriage door with his knife or theyd have taken us on to Cork I suppose that was done out of revenge on him…

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 616)

Joyce last visited Cork on December 12th 1909 when he was setting up cinemas in Ireland, the first being the Volta Cinema in Mary Street, Dublin. Once again he went by train from Kingsbridge, returning to Dublin late on the same evening. His biographer Richard Ellmann notes that Joyce wrote to his brother Stanislaus “For five rainy dreary hours we were mooning around Cork.” Ellmann (p.302)

Unlike Joyce I arrive in Cork on a beautiful sunny evening.

The Start: Kent Station

The run begins at the entrance to Kent Station.


Kent Station, Cork

Lower Glanmire Road (West)

I am running, but Stephen and his father took a jingle, a horse drawn carriage, on their trip into the city. Interestingly the Joyce family were in the jingle business, John Stanislaus’s father, also named James Joyce, was the Inspector of Hackney Coaches in the city.

MacCurtain Street (West)

Lower Glanmire Road runs into MacCurtain Street. In Joyce’s time these were King’s Terrace and King Street and a tramline ran down the centre of the street. There is a great photo of King Street from c.1900 online here

Bridge Street (South)

I head south and cross the River Lee for the first time on this journey across Cork. In crossing Dublin I crossed the river Liffey once, but the centre of Cork is an island and I will cross the River Lee four times on this run.

Local historian Tom Spalding writes

Cork is unusual for an Irish city in having been largely developed on a series of Dutch-style reclaimed islands, or ‘polders’. Low-lying marshy areas were raised above the high-tide level using rubble and whatever else could be acquired. These islands were separated by estuarine channels ‘over which (were) small drawbridges, somewhat like those in Holland.’ Some of these could be raised to allow shipping to pass, as at the end of Drawbridge St., where a lifting bridge crossed over the branch of the Lee which ran down present-day Patrick’s St.

Tom Spalding, Layers: The Design, History and Meaning of Public Street Signage in Cork and other Irish Cities (p.22)

Saint Patrick’s Street (South)

All the maps and signs refer to Saint Patrick’s Street, but I have only ever heard it referred to locally as Patrick’s Street.

Stephen and his father Simon stayed at the Victoria Hotel, which is mid-way along Patrick Street on the southern side. Once a fine city centre hotel, it was put up for sale in 2014. You can see details of the proposed sale here

Simon Dedalus sings this to his son, Stephen Dedalus in the Hotel.

‘Tis youth and folly
Makes young men marry,
So here, my love, I’ll
No longer stay.
What can’t be cured, sure,
Must be injured, sure,
So I’ll go to

My love she’s handsome,
My love she’s boney:
She’s like good whisky
When it is new;
But when ’tis old
And growing cold
It fades and dies like
The mountain dew.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man  (p. 77)

Wyse Jackson and Costello, in their biography John Stanislaus Joyce: The Voluminous Life and Genius of James Joyce’s Father (p.218) note that it was one of John Stanislaus’s favourite songs.

At the other end of the block Stephen and his father drank coffee in Newcombe’s coffeehouse.

   They had set out early in the morning from Newcombe’s coffeehouse, where Mr Dedalus’s cup had rattled noisily against its saucer, and Stephen had tried to cover that shameful sign of his father’s drinking bout of the night before by moving his chair and coughing.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man  (p. 82)

Newcombe’s coffee-house from A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man is almost certainly Newsom’s, which was located a few doors down from the Victoria Hotel at 41 Patrick Street. There are posters from Newsom’s Cafe de Paris from 1883 to view online hereYou can see Newsom’s Coffee House and the Victoria Hotel from the Lawrence Collection on here.

Saint Peter and Saint Paul’s Place (North)

I crossed the street and went along Saint Peter and Saint Paul’s Place. The church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul dominates the view and is where according To Richard Ellmann (p.13), James Joyce’s paternal grandparents, James Augustine Joyce and Ellen O’Connell, were married on February 28th 1848.

The church has an interesting website and is unusual as it has both external and internal Google Street View images. You can access them on the church website here.


Saint Peter and Saint Paul’s Catholic Church

Paul Street (West) Grand Parade (South) South Mall (East) 

I continue through the centre of Cork City, making my way towards the site of Joyce’s grandparents house. The Grand Parade was originally a water way, filled in in the latter half of the 18th century.

Parliament Street and Parliament Bridge (South)

I cross the River Lee for the second time over what was the most easterly fixed bridge on southern channel of the River Lee. Spalding notes that the names of Parliament Bridge and Street date from the 1760’s as Parliament provided the capital cost of the infrastructure (p.100).

George’s Quay (East)


Cork Historic Map 25 inch (1888-1913)

The route heads east along the riverbank getting closer to the area that the Joyce family lived and owned property in. Ellmann (p.38) lists sales in 1893 of ground and buildings to the rear of South Terrace, a coach house and stable in Stable Lane, ground and buildings at 7 and 8 Anglesea Street and premises in White Street.

You can see the area on 1888-1913 Ordnance Survey maps on here

Copley Street (East) Anglesea Street (South) South Terrace (West)

The run continues along Copley Street, passing around Anglesea Street and South Terrace. Rose Cottage, the Joyce family home was located at the junction of Anglesea Street and Copley Street. Simon Daedalus tells Stephen about getting caught smoking around the corner of South Terrace.

I’m talking to you as a friend, Stephen. I don’t believe in playing the stern father. I don’t believe a son should be afraid of his father. No, I treat you as your grandfather treated me when I was a young chap. We were more like brothers than father and son. I’ll never forget the first day he caught me smoking. I was standing at the end of the South Terrace one day with some maneens like myself and sure we thought we were grand fellows because we had pipes stuck in the corners of our mouths. Suddenly the governor passed. He didn’t say a word, or stop even. But the next day, Sunday, we were out for a walk together and when we were coming home he took out his cigar case and said: By the bye, Simon, I didn’t know you smoked: or something like that. —Of course I tried to carry it off as best I could. If you want a good smoke, he said, try one of these cigars. An American captain made me a present of them last night in Queenstown.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 80)

After I first published this blogpost a comment was posted by about the plaque in the ground outside 20 Anglesea Street.

The plaque reads:

James Augustine Joyce 1827 – 1866 (Grandfather of James Joyce 1882-1941) Resided in this house. James A Joyce was an Officer of the Cork Corporation by whom this plaque was provided 1984.

In the biography of John Stanislaus Joyce, the missing link between the two James Joyce’s mentioned on the plaque. Wyse Jackson and Costello, in John Stanislaus Joyce: The Voluminous Life and Genius of James Joyce’s Father say that the Joyce house stood in its own grounds where Copley Street ran into Anglesea Street (page 24). This would seem to be on the opposite side of the street to the plaque.

White Street (South)

It is on this street that John Stanislaus Joyce most significant Cork property was located.

Douglas Street (West) and Abbey Street (West)

I chose to run along Douglas Street, passing the Presentation Convent where John Stanislaus made his First Holy Communion.

South Great Bridge and South Main Street (North)

The run heads north back across the River Lee and past the Beamish and Crawford Brewery. Guinness is much mentioned in the writings of James Joyce, and despite the fact that Simon and Stephen go from bar to bar after their property is sold, whether Simon drank Beamish and Crawford stout goes unmentioned.

Liberty Street, Sheares Street, Dyke Street (West)

These streets all mark the start of the road west out of the city centre towards the Mardyke. It is a popular walk to this day with the sun setting in the west at the end of the Mardyke.

Sheares Street was named after Henry and John Sheares, United Irishmen, executed in 1798. They are remembered in Ulysses.

   And the citizen and Bloom having an argument about the point, the brothers Sheares and Wolfe Tone beyond on Arbour Hill and Robert Emmet and die for your country, the Tommy Moore touch about Sara Curran and she’s far from the land. 

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 251)

Mardyke Walk (West)

  The leaves of the trees along the Mardyke were astir and whispering in the sunlight. A team of cricketers passed, agile young men in flannels and blazers, one of them carrying the long green wicket-bag…Stephen walked on at his father’s side, listening to stories he had heard before, hearing again the names of the scattered and dead revellers who had been the companions of his father’s youth.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 79)

Great Western Road (East)

This road takes back to the east and towards the entrance to University College Cork, formerly Queen’s College.

Stephen’s father Simon studied at Queen’s College and he takes Stephen there as he is reminiscing about his time in Cork. As with much of their trip to Cork, it mirrors real events as John Stanislaus Joyce entered Queen’s College as a medical student in 1867.

I enter UCC as a runner, crossing the River Lee for the fourth and last time.

The Finish: The Quadrangle UCC

On the desk before him he read the word Foetus cut several times in the dark stained wood. The sudden legend startled his blood: he seemed to feel the absent students of the college about him and to shrink from their company. A vision of their life, which his father’s words had been powerless to evoke, sprang up before him out of the word cut in the desk. A broad-shouldered student with a moustache was cutting in the letters with a jackknife, seriously. 

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 78)

The run ends in the Quadrangle. Unsurprisingly I did not find the word Foetus carved anywhere in UCC. However there is a very interesting exhibition of Ogham stones in the cloisters. More meanings carved into objects a long time ago.

Route Planning

I know Cork reasonably well, but not well enough to run around not without some pre-planning. Like all the runs, I was looking for content in Joyce’s family biography, writings in the texts and also visual interest. Staring at the train station and ending at the Quadrangle in UCC took me along the city and across the Lee a number of times, and I freely passed a lot of pubs.

I guessed the route was about 7km but decided to use Google Maps to check. It gave a distance of 7.52km. The actual route I ran was 7.77km, though I did do a complete run around the quadrangle. Next time I may take a trip across the Lee and up to Sunday’s Well which is also mentioned in the texts.


Google Maps Cork Run

I also used Apple Maps to look over the route and look for visual cues so I would know when to turn down a street.


Apple Maps Cork City Centre

References cited

Costello, P. and Jackson, J.W. (1998) John Stanislaus Joyce: The Voluminous Life and Genius of James Joyce’s Father. London, United Kingdom: Fourth Estate.

Ellmann, R. (1983) James Joyce: New and Revised Edition. New York, United States: Oxford University Press.

Joyce, J. (1998) Ulysses. Edited by Hans Walter Gabler, Wolfhard Steppe, and Claus Melchior. Afterword by Michael Gordon edn. New York, United States: Vintage Books.

Joyce, J. (2007) A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Authoritative Text, Backgrounds and Contexts Criticism. Edited by John Paul Riquelme, Hans Walter Gabler, and Walter Hettche. New York, United States: Norton, W. W. & Company.

Joyce, S. (1994) The Complete Dublin Diary of Stanislaus Joyce. Edited by George H. Healey. Dublin, Ireland: Anna Livia Press.

Monaghan, K. (2005) Joyce’s Dublin Family. Dublin: The James Joyce Centre.

Spalding, T. (2013) Layers: The Design, History and Meaning of Public Street Signage in Cork and other Irish Cities. Foreward by Phil Baines edn. Dublin, Ireland: Associated Editions. Accessed 25 May 2016 Accessed 25 May 2016,567855,571556,11,9. Accessed 19th June 2016


There is a longer bibliography of background material here


You can see more on my research output on the Dublin Institute of Technology repository Arrowhere


Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper


Thanks to Tom Spalding for all his Cork related advice. Thanks also to the reader Frank for his comments regarding the plaque in the ground outside 20 Anglesea Street.



5 St. Peter’s Road, formerly 7 St. Peter’s Terrace, Cabra


Pub Puzzle Route Map on

Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a pub. Save it they can’t.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 48).

Leopold Bloom posed his famous puzzle in the novel Ulysses as he wandered out to buy a kidney for his breakfast on the 16th June 1904.

Can you cross Dublin without passing a pub? Can you cross it now? Could you cross it in 1904?

In June 2011 Computer Programmer Rory McCann used computers to solve the puzzle. He plotted the locations of the existing public houses and he used algorithms to avoid them. To solve the puzzle, he set rules, and you can read about his solution here.


I decided to solve the same puzzle, but choosing a journey that Joyce or Leopold Bloom would likely have made and using my own set of rules.

Rule One: Relevancy

The first rule is that the route has to have some relevancy to the writings of James Joyce, and or his actual life in Dublin. This rule pretty much defines all the runs in these blog posts.

I very quickly decided to try to find a route from 5 St.Peter’s Road in Cabra, the Joyce family home on 1904, on the north-west side of the city to 60 Shelbourne Road on the south-east side. I am interested in the Joyce family’s financial decline and its associations with their moving steadily northward through Dublin. As soon as he got a chance, James Joyce moved directly south from the family home to Shelbourne Road.

Rule Two: Cross Dublin

The second rule is that you actually have to cross Dublin. Skirting the edges of the city is not good enough. Starting outside the city and passing through the centre is ideal.

It would be relatively simple to skirt the city, keeping to the canal or city edges. I decided to run through it. This presents problems as the centre of Dublin has a lot of pubs.

Rule Three: Don’t Pass a Pub

The most fundamental of rules. Passing a pub would be defined as passing by an entrance door to a public house, either on the same side, or on the opposite side of the street.

I decided that although Hotels, Wine Bars and Off Licences are places you can get a drink, they do not count as they are not public houses. I decided to try to avoid them anyway.

Armed with a set off rules I began my game.

The Solution

The general solution did not take long to figure out. The details did. I made a lot of trial runs and some walks, and at least one false start. I discovered pubs along the way, all of which had to be avoided and led to some contortions of the route, but the route is largely linear and directly links the two points. Bloom undergoes a lot more diverse wanderings and covers more distance on the 16th June 1904.

In devising the route the first thing to avoid is nearly all corners. To paraphrase an old joke, Why did Ireland never win the World Cup? Because every time they got a corner they opened a pub. You cannot avoid all corners, but you can avoid large junctions such as the main one in Phibsborough.

Route Notes

In the route descriptions I have used present day street names. It was very common for names of streets and house numbers to be changed in Dublin. I have noted several in the text.

I have used various Thom’s directories for historical information. Thom’s produce an almanac every year with information on residents and businesses in Dublin, amongst other facts. Generally I used the Thom’s of 1905, as its publication date is December 31st 1904, and its contents reflect locations in 1904. The directories are available to read in the Dublin City Library and Archive, 138-144 Pearse Street, Dublin 2. D02 HE37.

I have referred to Roger Norburn’s A James Joyce Chronology for key dates.

In the descriptions below I have made reference to present day and historic Ordnance Survey digital maps on and I have referred to the Historic Map 25 inch set from 1888 – 1913, which show the layout of the city that most closely matches the layout of 16th June 1904. Google Street View and Apple Maps are useful tools.

Nothing compares to going out and seeing the city on foot.

County Dublin

In 1904, addresses in Phibsborough are listed in the County Dublin Directory. The 1908 directory notes that Phibsborough has been amalgamated with the City of Dublin and in 1909 the streets of Phibsborough are listed in the City of Dublin Street Directory.

So the run begins outside of Dublin, as defined in 1904.

You can see the present day map of the area on here

You can see the Historic Map 25 inch (1888-1913) map on here

The Start: 5 Saint Peter’s Road, formerly 7 Saint Peter’s Terrace Cabra (North)

The Joyce family moved to 7 St. Peter’s Terrace Cabra on October 24th 1902. Norburn (p. 12)

Thom’s directory of 1903 (p.1738), 1904 (p.743) and 1905 (p.1799) list a John Joyce, James’s father as living at 7 St. Peter’s Terrace Cabra.

In the 1906 edition of Thom’s there is no St. Peter’s Terrace, as it appears to have been amalgamated into the listing for St. Peter’s Road. And there is no John Joyce living on the road.

We depart, as did James Joyce, in our case heading north.

Shandon Street (North) and Shandon Park (West)

Neither Shandon Street nor Shandon Park appear in the 1904 and 1905 editions of Thom’s and were most likely open fields. The first houses of Shandon Road can be seen in the 25 inch Ordnance Survey Map (1888 – 1913), with the first listings beginning in Thom’s of 1915.

The open land is probably the location where “He drives his beasts above Cabra” from the poem Tilly is set. You can see a blog post about the poem here.


1888-2013 Map showing open fields north of St. Peter’s Terrace


Present day may showing developed lands north of St. Peter’s Road

The Royal Canal Towpath (East)

A short distance to the north of Shandon Park is the Royal Canal Towpath, accessed through a laneway and a small park.

The Royal Canal Towpath to Royal Canal Bank (East)

The route goes east along the Royal Canal partly because it is pleasant but also to avoid Smith’s pub on Phibsborough Road. The surroundings are little changed from 1904.

It crosses Phibsborough Road at Cross Gunn’s Bridge, crossing Paddy Dignam’s funeral route, close to its end at Glasnevin Cemetery.

Royal Canal Bank to the North Circular Road (South)

There is a major change when Royal Canal Bank turns south. The canal has been filled in and is now a road. Bloom would have had to cross  the canal at Blacquiere Bridge on the North Circular Road. So the route follows the line of the former canal before turning east on North Circular Road.

North Circular Road (East)

This is a busy road with commercial activity and it may be that there was a pub in this location in 1904. Thom’s of 1904 lists a butcher a chemist and a draper amongst others, but as far as I can see, no public house (p.1606).

Much of the layout of roads is the same as in 1904 and the route passes the rear of the original Mater Hospital. Bloom could have easily come this way from his house on nearby Eccles Street.

Glengarriff Parade (North)

The route turns into Glengarriff Parade, passing close to another of Joyce’s residences, 32 Glengarriff Parade. Just as 7 Saint Peter’s Terrace became 5 Saint Peter’s Road. 32 Glengarriff Parade is now 10 Glengarriff Parade. The route passes both houses.

Karl Whitney writes amusingly about this and all of Joyce’s Dublin residences in his book Hidden Dublin, Adventures and Explorations in Dublin.

Inisfallen Parade (East)

Inisfallen Parade is a long straight road that runs down to Dorset Street. Thom’s has little to say about it. 89 small houses (p.1568).

Belvidere Road  and Belvedere Place (South East)

Crossing Dorset Street you continue along Belvidere Road. The more common Dublin spelling is Belvedere. The Ordnance Survey have Belvidere Road leading to Belvidere Place on both the modern and historical mapping, whereas Google Maps have Belvidere Road leading to Belvedere Place, as do the street signs. Apple Maps have Belvedere Road leading to Belvedere Place. Thom’s lists Belvidere-place and Belvidere-Road. Things get more confusing as gaelige, where Belvedere is spelt Belbidír, Belvidír and Belbhidir as you can see in the photographs below.

It’s not just Finnegans Wake that plays with language.




Time to move on.

Joyce went to the nearby Belvedere College and does not mention Belvedere Road or Belvedere Place in his texts. But it is known that he did visit the house of David Sheehy M.P., whose wife approaches the very reverend John Conmee S. J. on Mountjoy Square in the Wandering Rocks episode of Ulysses (p.180)David Sheedy and a Miss Sheedy, elocutionist, are listed in Thom’s as living in the house at 2 Belvidere-Place (p.1470).

Mountjoy Square East (South East)

The route passes the junction of Mountjoy Square East with Fitzgibbon Street, where Joyce lived in 14 Fitzgibbon Street, now number 34, and past the site of the postbox that Fr. Conmee gets Master Brunny Lynam to post the letter into in Ulysses (p.181). The postbox is no longer there. The postbox is listed as a Pillar Letter-Box in Thom’s (p.1470), and it can be seen as a dot on the ordnance survey map of the time.

Vivien Igoe in James Joyce’s Dublin Houses & Nora Barnacle’s Galway (p.50,51) writes of the meeting between Fr. Conmee and John Joyce on the corner of the square, leading to Joyce studying in Belvedere College without having to pay fees.

The meeting is fictionalised in A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man (p.62)

—I walked bang into him, said Mr Dedalus for the fourth time, just at the corner of the square.
—Then I suppose, said Mrs Dedalus, he will be able to arrange it. I mean about Belvedere.
—Of course he will, said Mr Dedalus. Don’t I tell you he’s provincial of the order now?
—I never liked the idea of sending him to the christian brothers myself, said Mrs Dedalus.
—Christian brothers be damned! said Mr Dedalus. Is it with Paddy Stink and Mickey Mud? No, let him stick to the jesuits in God’s name since he began with them. They’ll be of service to him in after years. Those are the fellows that can get you a position.
—And they’re a very rich order, aren’t they, Simon?
—Rather. They live well, I tell you. You saw their table at Clongowes. Fed up, by God, like gamecocks.

Mountjoy Square South and Greville Street (South West)

As the route moves into Greville Street it crosses over the route that Bloom and Stephen Daedalus traveled on their way northwards to 7 Eccles Street after their trip to the cabmans shelter in the Eumaeus episode of Ulysses.

Thom’s lists D’Oli, Eugene Jermon, family grocer and wine merchant (p.1558) as being located on the corner of Hill Street and Greville Street, but again, not necessarily a public house and not listed separately as such in Thom’s.

Hill Street and Cumberland Street North (South East)

In Hill Street the run passes the tower of Little St. George’s, the bells from which were moved from Hill Street to the new St. George’s in Hardwick Place.

The bells are heard pealing repeatedly Heigho, heigho, in Ulysses. They are heard by Bloom in the morning and by Stephen Daedalus and Bloom on the doorstep of 7 Eccles Street (p.578) when they return after their adventures in Nighttown, where the bells form one of the characters in the Circe episode (p.384).

Hill Street

Little St. George’s, Hill Street

We cross Parnell Street, which in 1904 was Great Britain Street North and go directly into North Cumberland Street.

There are no pubs on these corners today, nor as far as I can see in Thom’s, in 1904.

Sean McDermott Street Upper (North East)

Sean Mac Dermott Street was originally Upper Gloucester Street, renamed like many streets after Irish patriots. The route heads north east again along the street, before crossing Gardiner Street and continuing to Gloucester Place Lower.

Gloucester Place Lower (South East)

The route is now in one of the areas of the city that has most changed the most since Joyce’s time in Dublin. We are in the former Nighttown, prominently featured in the Circe episode of Ulysses. A haven of brothels and slums, largely obliterated, replaced by Corporation houses and offices.

Railway Street (South West)

Railway Street was originally Tyrone Street Lower, where Bella Cohen the brothel keeper lived at number 82. She lived at the eastern side of Tyrone Street Lower, towards Buckingham Street. We head in the opposite direction towards Mabbot Lane.

If we continued straight on we would be in James Joyce Street, formerly Mabbot Street.

Mabbot Lane and Moland Place (South East)

The centre of Dublin is a concentration of pubs, so to avoid many of them the route goes down Mabbot Lane going by a series of lanes towards the back of the Custom House. Thom’s lists carriage builders and stores as the laneway’s main uses in 1904 (p.1585).

Moland Place is not listed separately in Thom’s, but the intersection with Talbot street is. there were no pubs here in 1904. It is at the southern end of Moland Place that the route comes closest to a pub. It runs down the side of one, but the gable end of the pub has no entrance or windows onto Moland Place.

Frenchman’s Lane (South West)

This lane takes the route back to Gardiner Street, passing under the Loopline Railway Bridge for the first time. Thom’s lists Frenchman’s Lane as being free of Public Houses, though a wine bar has recently opened up, a few evenings a week.

Beresford Place (South)

The route goes south and to the western side of the Customs House, passing where Stephen and Bloom begin their walk back to 7 Eccles Street, passing Gumley minding stones for the Corporation in Ulysses (p. 112, 539).

Custom House Quay (East)

We pass under a different section of the Loopline Bridge passing the former site of the cabman’s shelter from the Eumaeus episode of Ulysses.

In Joyce’s time the Loopline Bridge was the most easterly bridge on the River Liffey with downstream crossings happening by Ferry. Bridge crossings with concentrated footfalls attract even more pubs and it is necessary to run east along the front of the Custom House and cross by the Matt Talbot bridge to avoid them.

Matt Talbot Bridge (South)

Up until this point the route layout has been on roads and paths that existed in 1904. But we now cross over a new bridge. This proves that this route could not have been used by Bloom in 1904.

We cross over Anna Livia Plurabelle.

City Quay and Sir John Rogerson’s Quay (East)

The new development at City Quay has changed much of the street layout and the route has to go along the quays to avoid pubs placed in and around it.

    *By lorries along sir John Rogerson’s quay Mr Bloom walked soberly, past Windmill lane, Leask’s the linseed crusher, the postal telegraph office. Could have given that address too. And past the sailors’ home. He turned from the morning noises of the quayside and walked through Lime street. Ulysses (p.58)

Lime Street (South)

As Bloom turns southwards from the quays into Lime Street, so do we.

Hanover Street East (East)

Bloom goes west at this point, but we go east, heading towards Ringsend Village.

Macken Street (South)

We turn south into Macken Street, formerly Great Clarence Street.

Pearse Street and Ringsend Road (East)

We turn eastwards along Pearse Street, formerly Great Brunswick Street, heading to Ringsend, in the opposite direction to Paddy Dignam’s funeral procession in Ulysses.

Fitzwilliam Quay (South)

Thom’s lists Ringsend (p.1833) as being in the County Dublin Directory, so having crossed over the bridge we have finally crossed Dublin.

The route turns south just before Tunney’s pub, now the Oarsman, in Ringsend Village. Tunney’s is mentioned several times in Ulysses, as a grocer’s frequented by Gerty  MacDowell (p.291) and a pub favoured by Paddy Dignam (p.207).

The route passes the field where the boys have An Encounter in Dubliners and past the plaque on the wall commemorating the Swan River, mentioned in Finnegans Wake. You can read more about this section in a previous blog post here

Newbridge Avenue and Lansdowne Road (West)

At this point the route is close to where Paddy Dignam’s funeral departed for Glasnevin, from 8 Newbridge Avenue, which is a short distance to the east. We go in the opposite direction along Lansdowne Road.

We are now back in the city with Shelbourne Road and Lansdowne Road listed as such in Thom’s.

The end: Shelbourne Road (North)

The last turn is north onto Shelbourne Road, finishing shortly thereafter, to the endpoint at number 60, identified, as is the house on St. Peter’s Terrace, with a commemorative plaque.

Joyce rented a room from a Mrs. McKernan where he lived here from April to August 1904, departing to stay briefly at 35 Strand Road (Norburn p.20) on the night of 16th June 1904, the day on which Ulysses is set.

The Problem with the Solution

The solution only works in the present day. Whilst it generally follows a route available in 1904, it crosses a bridge that was not in existence and passes some locations where pubs were almost certainly present at that time.

The route does not pass any present day pubs, but it does pass a wine bar. The wine bar only opens three nights a week and is hardly a public house. Anyway it’s my game, and to an extent, these are my rules.

The 1904 Solution

I have not solved the puzzle for the time in which it was set, 1904. It can possibly be solved for 1904, but not by using this route. The following establishments were located along the route and are listed in the 1905 Thom’s Directory.

“Fogarty, P., grocer, tea, wine and spirit merchant” at number 35 Hill Street (p.1550).

McEvoy, Michael, wine merchant and bonder of whiskey” at number 13, North Gloucester Street (p.1551).

Smyth, Patrick, grocer and spirit merchant” at number 24 City Quay.(p.1499)

But are they public houses? Thom’s lists the following categories of alcohol vendors separately:

Spirit Dealers

Taverns and Inns

Vintners and Publicans

Wine and Spirit Merchants

It is difficult to know the exact difference between all of the categories. But Davy Byrne’s, perhaps the most famous Public House in Ulysses is listed as David Byrne, a wine and spirit merchant under the listing for Duke Street (p.1526) . He also appears in the wine and spirit dealers lists. So a wine and spirit dealer can be a public house.

P. Fogarty of Hill Street and Smyth of City Quay do not appear in any of the alcohol vendor categories. But Michael McEvoy of North Gloucester Street appears as a wine merchant and bonder of whiskey. His premises are located on a corner and it was probably a busy public house.


Thom’s 1904 Vintners and Publicans List

Some of these obstacles can be overcome by minor route changes. The puzzle will not be solved until you can prove that Dublin could be crossed without passing a pub in 1904, something that is the subject of my further research. My initial conclusions are that Bloom was probably right, you couldn’t cross Dublin without passing a pub.

But as has been noted, why bother? A simple solution to cross Dublin without passing a pub is simply to go into all of them.

References cited

Igoe, V. (2006) James Joyce’s Dublin Houses and Nora Barnacle’s Galway. Dublin, Ireland: Lilliput Press.

Joyce, J. (1998) Ulysses. Edited by Hans Walter Gabler, Wolfhard Steppe, and Claus Melchior. Afterword by Michael Gordon edn. New York, United States: Vintage Books.

Joyce, J. (2007) A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Authoritative Text, Backgrounds and Contexts Criticism. Edited by John Paul Riquelme, Hans Walter Gabler, and Walter Hettche. New York, United States: Norton, W. W. & Company.

Norburn, R. (2004) A James Joyce Chronology. London, United Kingdom: Palgrave Macmillan.

Thom’s & Co. (Limited) (1902) Thom’s Official Directory of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland for the Year 1903. Dublin, Ireland: Alex. Thom’s & Co. (Limited)

Thom’s & Co. (Limited) (1903) Thom’s Official Directory of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland for the Year 1904. Dublin, Ireland: Alex. Thom’s & Co. (Limited)

Thom’s & Co. (Limited) (1904) Thom’s Official Directory of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland for the Year 1905. Dublin, Ireland: Alex. Thom’s & Co. (Limited)

Whitney, K. (2014) Hidden City: Adventures and Explorations in Dublin. Dublin, Ireland: Penguin Ireland. Accessed May 16th, 2016,578432,756724,0,10. Accessed May 16th, 2016


There is a longer bibliography of background material here


You can see more on my research output on the Dublin Institute of Technology repository Arrowhere

Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper




            A girl stood before him in midstream: alone and still, gazing out to sea. She seemed like one whom magic had changed into the likeness of a strange and beautiful seabird. Her long slender bare legs were delicate as a crane’s and pure save where an emerald trail of seaweed had fashioned itself as a sign upon the flesh. Her thighs, fuller and softhued as ivory, were bared almost to the hips where the white fringes of her drawers were like feathering of soft white down. Her slate-blue skirts were kilted boldly about her waist and dovetailed behind her. Her bosom was as a bird’s, soft and slight; slight and soft as the breast of some darkplumaged dove. But her long fair hair was girlish: and girlish, and touched with the wonder of mortal beauty, her face.
She was alone and still, gazing out to sea; and when she felt his presence and the worship of his eyes her eyes turned to him in quiet sufferance of his gaze, without shame or wantonness. Long, long she suffered his gaze and then quietly withdrew her eyes from his and bent them towards the stream, gently stirring the water with her foot hither and thither. The first faint noise of gently moving water broke the silence, low and faint and whispering, faint as the bells of sleep; hither and thither, hither and thither: and a faint flame trembled on her cheek.

—Heavenly God! cried Stephen’s soul, in an outburst of profane joy.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man  (Page 150)

The quote above is from the closing passages of Part IV of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man where Stephen Dedalus walks out the Bull Wall on the north side of the River Liffey. Much has been made of the parallels between Stephen Dedalus and the young James Joyce, as well as the middle aged Leopold Bloom and James Joyce.

It is interesting to compare the quote above from A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man with the following quote from the Nausikaa episode of Ulysses.

And she saw a long Roman candle going up over the trees, up, up, and, in the tense hush, they were all breathless with excitement as it went higher and higher and she had to lean back more and more to look up after it, high, high, almost out of sight, and her face was suffused with a divine, an entrancing blush from straining back and he could see her other things too, nainsook knickers, the fabric that caresses the skin, better than those other pettiwidth, the green, four and eleven, on account of being white and she let him and she saw that he saw and then it went so high it went out of sight a moment and she was trembling in every limb from being bent so far back that he had a full view high up above her knee where no-one ever not even on the swing or wading and she wasn’t ashamed and he wasn’t either to look in that immodest way like that because he couldn’t resist the sight of the wondrous revealment half offered like those skirtdancers behaving so immodest before gentlemen looking and he kept on looking, looking. She would fain have cried to him chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to him to come, to feel his lips laid on her white brow, the cry of a young girl’s love, a little strangled cry, wrung from her, that cry that has rung through the ages. And then a rocket sprang and bang shot blind blank and O! then the Roman candle burst and it was like a sigh of O! and everyone cried O! O! in raptures and it gushed out of it a stream of rain gold hair threads and they shed and ah! they were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden, O so lovely, O, soft, sweet, soft!

James Joyce, Ulysses (Page 300)

It was darker now and there were stones and bits of wood on the strand and slippy seaweed. She walked with a certain quiet dignity characteristic of her but with care and very slowly because —because Gerty MacDowell was…
    Tight boots? No. She’s lame! O!
    Mr Bloom watched her as she limped away. Poor girl! That’s why she’s left on the shelf and the others did a sprint. Thought something was wrong by the cut of her jib. Jilted beauty. A defect is ten times worse in a woman. But makes them polite. Glad I didn’t know it when she was on show. Hot little devil all the same. I wouldn’t mind. 

James Joyce, Ulysses (Page 301)

The similarities of locations and scenes is striking and makes an interesting comparison. In each case the observers and observed are aware of each other. The Young Stephen sees the perfect beauty stirring the water with her foot, has a religious experience and an outburst of profane joy. The older Bloom on the shoreline on the south side of the River Liffey, masturbates onto his shirt, as the roman candle  firework explodes high over the trees behind the foreshore. And when the Gerty rises from the sand her foot does not gently stir the water, but instead she is lame and she limps away.

The quotes above are from novels. In Joyce’s second published short story, An Encounter from Dubliners there is also a sexual encounter and in this case, not with a young woman viewed by the young artist or middle aged advertising salesman, but with a middle aged man who preys upon the young boys with his own fantasies.

Then he asked us which of us had the most sweethearts. Mahony mentioned lightly that he had three totties. The man asked me how many had I. I answered that I had none. He did not believe me and said he was sure I must have one. I was silent.
—Tell us, said Mahony pertly to the man, how many have you yourself?
   The man smiled as before and said that when he was our age he had lots of sweethearts. Every boy,he said, has a little sweetheart.

James Joyce, An Encounter, Dubliners (Pages 17, 18)

Route Notes

In these runs I try to link places  that have a relationship with Joyce’s life and writings. Hence the route runs between the two shoreline encounters, one on the north of the River Liffey and one on the South. I deliberately ran through Fairview, which is now a public park, but in the early 1900’s was mudflats, that Fr. Conmee avoided walking along, by taking the tram in the Wandering Rocks episode of Ulysses. I then headed along Wharf Road (now East Wall Road), following the route mentioned in An Encounter before crossing by the East Link bridge to Ringsend Village. In the story the narrator goes by ferry boat. The field in in An Encounter is most probably on Fitzwilliam Quay. The route also passes along the Dodder opposite the Swan River, mentioned in Finnegans Wake and past Paddy Dignam’s house on Newbridge Avenue from Ulysses.

You can see extent of the mudflats now Fairview Park in the images from below



Like the young narrator of the story, I was also too tired to visit the Pigeon House, this being the first blogpost written after a layoff from injury.

It was too late and we were too tired to carry out our project of visiting the Pigeon House

James Joyce, An Encounter, Dubliners (Page 16)

Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper

References Cited

Joyce, J., Gabler, H. W. and Hettche, W. (2006) Dubliners (Norton critical edition). Edited by Margot Norris. 1st edn. Norton, W. W. & Company. New York, USA.

Joyce, J. (2007) A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (Norton critical edition). Edited by John Paul Riquelme, Walter Hettche, and Hans Walter Gabler. Norton, W. W. & Company.New York, USA.

Joyce, J. (1986) Ulysses: Corrected texts (ed. Gabler, H.W., with Steppe, W. and Melchior, C., Afterword Groden, M.) First Vintage Books Edition, New York, USA.




Google Maps_03Screenshot 2015-11-15 16.12.11

    Mr Bloom with his stick gently vexed the thick sand at his foot. Write a message for her. Might remain. What?
    Some flatfoot tramp on it in the morning. Useless. Washed away. Tide comes here. Saw a pool near her foot. Bend, see my face there, dark mirror, breathe on it, stirs. All these rocks with lines and scars and letters. O, those transparent! Besides they don’t know. What is the meaning of that other world. I called you naughty boy because I do not like.
    AM. A.
    No room. Let it go.
    Mr Bloom effaced the letters with his slow boot. Hopeless thing sand. Nothing grows in it. All fades. No fear of big vessels coming up here. Except Guinness’s barges. Round the Kish in eighty days. Done half by design.
He flung his wooden pen away. The stick fell in silted sand, stuck. Now if you were trying to do that for a week on end you couldn’t. Chance. We’ll never meet again. But it was lovely. Goodbye, dear. Thanks. Made me feel so young.

James Joyce. Ulysses (Page 312)

The quote is from the Nausikaa episode of Ulysses where Leopold Bloom is on the seashore behind the church, Mary star of the sea in Sandymount. Bloom is observing Gerty McDowell who is on the seashore with her friends Edy Boardman, Cissy Caffrey, her young twin brothers and baby Boardman.

Bloom is fixated on Gerty MacDowell and towards the end of the episode he draws a message in the sand. Whilst we cannot be certain what the intended message was, many believe that the word after I. AM. A., is cuckold, Bloom having been cuckolded by Blazes Boylan that afternoon at 16:00 in 7 Eccles Street. The last word of the episode is cuckoo, repeated several times.

The area behind the church, formerly the foreshore, is now reclaimed land, used as a public park and as playing fields for the Clann Na Gael Fontenoy GAA club.

You can look and compare the historic and contemporary mapping on the Ordnance Survey of Ireland WebsiteYou can select areas of the city and apply different layers of contemporary and historic data. I like to compare the contemporary maps with the Historic 25″ Map from 1888-1913, contemporaneous with the period of time when Joyce lived in and wrote about, Dublin. You can look at the mapping on this link:

The overlayed image below shows the general area where I ran with the original coastline prominent on the lower left and the new reclaimed area to the right.


A detailed extract at the back of St. Mary’s Star of The Sea Church shows the dark line of the original sea wall more clearly.


I decided that just as Bloom’s words were washed away by the sand and were fleeting in nature, I would run a route that would track words as a form of GPS Art, only existing in computer code.

This post, although short in distance, was complex in planning. My original idea was to run the word Joyce on the open space on Sandymount Strand. I experimented with various forms of typeface but they all involved a lot of complex turns. I wasn’t sure how I would manage these and know where to change direction, without laying out a lot of cones and extensive preparation work. Then I thought I would run a freeform script but worried I would get dizzy and disorientated. You can see some of the plans in my notebook image below.


At a later date I thought about running the text that Bloom actually writes in the sand. I.AM.A. I quickly realised that this was much easier to run. The A and the M are essentially similar, the hard part being how to run the horizontal lines of the letter A. You can see in the image below how much simpler the running pattern would be. I decided to run on the playing pitches of Clann Na Gael and use the floodlights as visual markers. Even though this is conceptually easy…it took several runs to get the hang of it and to get the GPS map to work correctly so that it looked like written text in the various mapping apps such as Runkeeper and Google Earth both used at the top of this blogpost. The key learning was that I would have to run a large pattern and not double back at all, except where I had to in order to make the horizontal lines of the letter A.


I decided to start the run from the Saint Mary’s Star of the Sea Church, onto the reclaimed land at Clann Na Gael to make my virtual text and then out of the park and onto Dromard Terrace. Joyce spent the night of 16th June 1904, the day on which Ulysses is set, in the house at 22 Dromard Terrace owned by his friends James and Gretta Cousins. Once there I looped back to the church along Sandymount Road.

This extract from Apple Maps shows an overview of the area of route with the dropped pin indicating the centre of the the text run.



Joyce, J. (1998) Ulysses. Edited by Hans Walter Gabler, Wolfhard Steppe, and Claus Melchior. Afterward by Michael Gordon edn. New York, United States: Vintage Books.

Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper

In deciding to do the run I was inspired by the artist Jeremy Wood who has done a number of GPS Art projects. You can see his work here.

Harry Kernoff – Jammet’s Restaurant, Dublin


    He had never been in Corless’s but he knew the value of the name. He knew that people went there after the theatre to eat oysters and drink liqueurs; and he had heard that the waiters there spoke French and German. Walking swiftly by at night he had seen cabs drawn up before the door and richly dressed ladies, escorted by cavaliers, alight and enter quickly. They wore noisy dresses and many wraps. Their faces were powdered and they caught up their dresses, when they touched earth, like alarmed Atalantas.

James Joyce, A Little Cloud, Dubliners, (Pages 58)

Joyce liked fine dining and there was no place better in Dublin in the early 1900’s than Jammet’s, which began as Corless’s in the late 1800’s. As is pointed out in the notes by Terence Brown in the Penguin edition (2000) of Dubliners, by the time the A Little Cloud was written, Corless’s had become Jammet’s but was still popularly known as Corless’s.

Máirtín Mac Con Iomaire has written extensively on the history of restaurants in Dublin and writes about the development of Jammet’s.

In November 1884, Thomas Corless advertised in The Irish Times the presence of a First-class French Cook‘ in The Burlington Restaurant and Dining Rooms, Andrew Street and Church Lane … In 1900, Michel and François Jammet bought the Burlington Restaurant and Oyster Saloons at 27 St Andrew Street, Dublin from Tom Corless. They refitted, and renamed it The Jammet Hotel and Restaurant in 1901, and it became pre-eminent among the restaurants of Dublin.

Máirtín Mac Con Iomaire, ‘From Jammet’s to Guilbaud’s’ The Influence of French Haute Cuisine on the Development of Dublin Restaurants (pages 4,5)

The Oysters that Little Chandler is thinking of, were of particular value to Tom Corless.

Corless had 700 acres of oyster beds in Clifden Bay. In 1896 Tom Corless becomes embroiled in a legal action with John N. Curtain of Ballyvaughan over a statement he issued that not a single Red Bank oyster had come into the Dublin Market since 1875. The case is comprehensively detailed in The Irish Times (2/5/1896:11), the outcome of which saw Corless lose and fined damages of £10, which was much less than the £1000 the plaintiff, Mr. Curtain originally sought.

 The Emergence, Development and Influence of French Haute Cuisine on Public Dining in Dublin Restaurants 1900-2000: An Oral History (Pages 103, 104).

Joyce loved fine dining and what would now be called living it large. Joyce loved Jammet’s, as his friend Arthur Power notes:

He seemed to have a passion for an ordered life, and I thought it was a reaction from his former life in Dublin, from the poverty and bohemianism of his youth, of which one heard various accounts from people who had known him at the time. One day, meeting his friends in the street, he told each of them that they must meet him again on the following Saturday at midday at the bottom of Grafton Street with a pound note in their pockets – a matter, he intimated to them, of the utmost urgency. On the following Saturday a number of them turned up.
–Have you all got your pound notes? he asked, and when they produced the promised money he said, now let us all go and dine in Jammet’s – Jammet’s being at that time Dublin’s best known and expensive restaurant, a few yards from their meeting place. Such and other stories are told of Joyce’s bohemian youth, but in Paris he lived the most ordinary life imaginable, remaining shut up in his flat during most of the day.

Arthur Power, Conversations with James Joyce (Page 52)

Harry Kernoff painted the original Jammet’s, before the restaurant was relocated to Nassau Street in 1927. Like the restaurant, the painting moved across town. In this case to Restaurant Patrick Guilbaud in Merrion Street Upper, Dublin 2.

Jammet’s is mentioned twice by name in Ulysses. Once by Corny Kelleher towards the end of the Circe episode and once in Nausikaa episode on Sandymount Strand, when Bloom is looking at Gerty MacDowell.

    There she is with them down there for the fireworks. My fireworks. Up like a rocket, down like a stick. And the children, twins they must be, waiting for something to happen. Want to be grownups. Dressing in mother’s clothes. Time enough, understand all the ways of the world. And the dark one with the mop head and the nigger mouth. I knew she could whistle. Mouth made for that. Like Molly. Why that highclass whore in Jammet’s wore her veil only to her nose. Would you mind, please, telling me the right time? I’ll tell you the right time up a dark lane. Say prunes and prisms forty times every morning, cure for fat lips. Caressing the little boy too. Onlookers see most of the game. Of course they understand birds, animals, babies. In their line.

James Joyce. Ulysses (Page 304)

I went for a run around the sites of the two Jammet’s restaurants, past Davy Byrne’s, probably the most famous dining place in Joyce’s writings, onto The Merrion Hotel and past Restaurant Patrick Guilbaud where Harry Kernoff’s picture hangs.

The first location for Jammet’s, Dublin’s finest French restaurant, is now home to the Swedish clothing company, H&M. And its second, interestingly, as Joyce wrote of the image of the high class whore in Jammet’s, is now occupied by the nightclub Lillie’s Bordello.


Joyce, J. (1998) Ulysses. Edited by Hans Walter Gabler, Wolfhard Steppe, and Claus Melchior. Afterward by Michael Gordon edn. New York, United States: Vintage Books.

Joyce, J. (2006) Dubliners, Authoritative Text, Contexts, Criticism. Edited by Margot Norris, Hans Walter Gabler, and Walter Hettche. New York, United States: Norton, W. W. & Company.

Power, A. (1999) Conversations with James Joyce. Foreword by David Norris edn. Dublin, Ireland: The Lilliput Press.

You can download Máirtín’s Mac Con Iomaire’s Ph.D. Dissertation, The Emergence, Development and Influence of French Haute Cuisine on Public Dining in Dublin Restaurants 1900-2000: An Oral History here

And his article ‘From Jammet’s to Guilbaud’s’ The Influence of French Haute Cuisine on the Development of Dublin Restaurants here

Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper

With thanks to The Merrion Hotel and Restaurant Patrick Guilbaud for kind permission to use the image of the painting of Jammet’s by Harry Kernoff.


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    Seabloom, greaseabloom viewed last words. Softly. When my country takes her place among.
    Must be the bur.
    Fff! Oo. Rrpr.
Nations of the earth. No-one behind. She’s passed. Then and not till then. Tram kran kran kran. Good oppor. Coming. Krandlkrankran. I’m sure it’s the burgund. Yes. One, two. Let my epitaph be. Kraaaaaa. Written. I have.

James Joyce. Ulysses (Pages 238,239)

Ulysses is suffused with the senses of Dublin. In particular the sense of smell, as noted by Joyce in this particular exchange with his friend Arthur Power.

What is the first thing that you notice about a country when you arrive in it? Its odour, which is the gauge of its civilisation, and it is that odour which percolates into its literature. Just as Rabelais smells of the Spain of its time, so Ulysses smells of the Dublin of my day.
–It certainly has an effluvium, I agreed.
–Yes, it smells of the Anna Liffey, smiled Joyce, not always a very sweet smell perhaps, but distinctive all the same.

Arthur Power. Conversations with Joyce (Page 117)

The sounds and smells of Dublin in 1904 would have been very different to those of 2015. I decided to run around areas of Dublin with strong associations of smell, Guinness’s Brewery, The Liffey, The Fruit and Vegetable Markets.

The brewery smells much less than it ever used to, the all pervasive smell of roasting hops seemingly reduced by modern brewing techniques.

The Liffey at full tide was refreshingly odour free, as it was at low tide when I passed the day before. It was a hot summers day but the smell was much improved from the description in the Bagatelle song from 1980 I remember the summer in Dublin and the Liffey as it stank like hell… I ran along Wellington Quay where the River Poddle emerges under the quay wall. In her book The Buildings of Ireland, Dublin, (page 316) Christine Casey points out an error in the Wandering Rocks episode of Ulysses where Joyce says that the Poddle emerges from Wood Quay Wall.  Regardless of where the Poddle entered the Liffey, it must have stank as much as Bagatelle noted in 1980.

From its sluice in Wood quay wall under Tom Devan’s office Poddle river hung out in fealty a tongue of liquid sewage. 

James Joyce. Ulysses (Page 207)

I then ran along Ormond Quay past the point where Bloom exits the Ormond Hotel and ran up to Barney Kiernan’s pub along Arran Street East, crossing the tram tracks at Mary’s Abbey and Chancery Street. In the quote from Ulysses that opens this blogpost, Bloom is using the noise of a passing tram to disguise his flatulence, caused he thinks, by the Burgundy he had earlier in Davy Byrne’s public house. In 1904 trams ran along Ormond Quay, whereas today the Luas runs further North, behind the quays.

As I ran up towards Barney Kiernan’s pub I ran in and around the markets area, in particular the CIty Wholesale Fruit and Vegetable Markets, a much more pleasant and odorous experience.


Joyce, J. (1998) Ulysses. Edited by Hans Walter Gabler, Wolfhard Steppe, and Claus Melchior. Afterward by Michael Gordon edn. New York, United States: Vintage Books.

Power, A. (1999) Conversations with James Joyce. Foreword by David Norris edn. Dublin, Ireland: The Lilliput Press.

Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper

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