I am kicked out of my Dublin garret
In her new column, Mary Kenny looks at life on the edge – as an Irish woman living in Deal, on the Kent coast, 25 miles from France
For the past twenty years, I have rented a flat in the centre of Georgian Dublin, which I have now been instructed, by the landlords, to vacate: and my eviction is, surely, emblematic of the Brexit effect. The flat has been like an adorable artist’s garret: a bit of a shambles, rather in need of repair and restoration – the front door looks like a picturesque tenement from a Sean O’Casey play, and there is a hole in the bathroom floor. Most of the doors in the flat don’t shut properly. But I love it. My idea of bliss is living in a Sean O’Casey tenement. It has been such a wonderful little perch in my native city, to which I’ve been able to retreat monthly for work and play. But everywhere in central Dublin is now being gentrified and upgraded, because the Irish capital is competing with Paris, Düsseldorf...
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