If your knowledge of Dublin is more James Kavanagh than James Joyce, I’m here to help. Below are a few tips to help you get by in THE BIG SHMOKE. As ever, not a smidge of sarcasm to be found here.
What are you doing waiting for ‘the green man’, you pleb? Zigzag between oncoming cars, like a normal pedestrian.
Don’t simply state your price to bus drivers, make chat with them. They especially love to give you directions and help you scan your Leap card properly.
If you attempt to drive in Dublin city centre, be sure to drive on the Luas tracks.
Brace yourself: they moved the Molly Malone statue some time ago. You’ll just have to trust that you’re on Grafton Street.
If you’re lost, using Google Maps definitely doesn’t make you look like a newb at all. Especially when the automated voice loudly instructs you to turn left onto the kways.
Some unfortunate souls may even you for directions (You! I know!). Make some up on the spot to keep your street cred intact. Just don’t confuse the Spire with the Poolbeg chimneys and you’re golden.
If someone says they live in Ballsbridge or Sandyford, you mustn’t ask where this is. You must simply nod knowingly and pretend you know where that is.
6pm is an optimum time for a run along the quays. You can perfect your jog-on-the-spot shuffle at the numerous sets of traffic lights while delightful men shout words of encouragement from their vehicles.
Smile and make eye contact with the nice people outside the GPO. They just wanna have a friendly chat about your plans for the afterlife.
Give money to the shady guy sucking out of Bull Brand lighter fluid at the Luas stop, he seems sound.
If anyone asks, you have not been to Coppers. Your favourite bar is actually a quaint little pop-up craft beer shack that no-one even knows about yet.
A town that inhabits 6,000 people is not a town anymore; it’s a farm. Try persuading Dublin natives you’re not a culchie while also mentioning you’re going home for the weekend to attend the annual October Horse Fair.
To be fair, it’s unlikely you’ll ever be mistaken for a local. You’re as conspicuous as a tall blonde man wearing lederhosen, a fanny pack, and a Polaroid camera. And when you’re using Kylemore café as your point of reference, it’s unlikely you’re ever going to shake that out-of-towner status.
Just hold on tight and wait for your brethren to send reinforcements on December 8th.