After 10 years of the same government, the Republic went to the polls on 24 May 2007 with the whole country expecting change. The outgoing Taoiseach, Bertie Ahern, couldn’t quite escape the whiff of scandal surrounding his private finances and his party, Fianna Fáil, was under constant attack by the opposition for having squandered the opportunities presented them by the single greatest period of economic growth in history, with a slew of short-sighted decisions and broken promises. On 25 May, Ireland awoke to discover that despite what every poll had told them, the country wasn’t quite ready for a whole new change of direction and had voted to put Bertie and his team back into power for another five years.
Who could blame them? On the surface, Ireland has never had it so good. The world’s favourite poster-child for untrammelled economic development has become a marvel of dynamic entrepreneurialism, a forward-thinking paragon of modernity that is not about to take a break any time soon.
These are, unquestionably, exciting times, with the country virtually unrecognisable from the Ireland of 20 years ago, when high unemployment and a battered economy meant that emigration was a fact of life for someone in almost every family, and opportunities were slices of luck that really couldn’t be trusted. But no country can change completely in such a short space of time – not even Ireland, which has undergone the kind of socioeconomic transformation Stalin would have dreamt about when concocting his five-year plans. Ireland has changed all right, but in so doing the country has developed two distinct personalities that will become evident as you make your way around.
You won’t be able to avoid the much-trumpeted child of the Celtic Tiger, the architect of the New Ireland, a land of motorways and multiculturalism planned and developed in between double-decaf lattes and time-outs at the latest spa offering thermal mud treatment. With 60% of the population under 40, the memories of uncertain Ireland before the Celtic Tiger are fast receding in the face of the unfettered optimism brought on by these prosperous times. These Celtic cubs are overseeing the grand transformation of the country from rural backwater to the envy of Europe, with world-class hotels, dining from all corners of the globe and a range of services designed to get the most out of the country’s natural bounty, which is pretty spectacular.
Ireland’s other personality is a little more traditional, and if the regular polls of departing tourists are to be believed, still holds the key to Ireland’s draw as a tourist destination. At the heart of it all is the often breathtaking scenery, still gorgeous enough to make your jaw drop despite the best efforts of developers to scar some of the most beautiful bits with roundabouts, brutal suburbs and summer bungalows. From the lonely, wind-lashed wilderness of Donegal to the postcard landscapes of West Cork, Ireland is one of the world’s most beautiful countries, and worth every effort you make to explore it. The sometimes overwhelming popularity of the scenic superstars like Connemara and Kerry has seen the emergence of quieter idylls as the preferred destination of the discerning traveller, who has discovered the beauty of the lakes of Roscommon, the villages of Waterford and the rarely visited counties like Westmeath. Here you can come into contact with a more genuine Ireland, the kind removed from the slick machinery of the tourist trail.
The slow grind that resulted in the end of violence in Northern Ireland has meant that the province can finally go about showing to a much wider audience that it is just as beautiful and interesting as the rest of the island. In 2007, Lonely Planet’s Blue List put it in the world’s top 10 destinations to visit for good reason – the province has always had plenty to see, but it was tough to appreciate the likes of South Armagh’s rural scenery when it was known as ‘Bandit Country’ due to the high level of IRA activity.
Ireland is a complex, often contradictory country, and those contradictions are evident everywhere you go, from the thatched rural pub advertising wi-fi connection and imported Australian wines to the group of Polish-born schoolkids chatting away to each other in Irish. No sooner do you make an assumption about the place than something will confound you completely, leaving you none the wiser than before you began. But don’t worry, you’re in good company: most of the Irish are as confused about it as you are.
All of this confusion hardly fits the traditional, timeworn view of a nation of friendly people made happy by the conviviality of a drink among friends, but the Irish have always mocked those fanciful notions kept alive by many a wishy-washy tourist brochure and the likes of The Quiet Man. Of course the Irish love a drink, but they know that they also have huge problems with the stuff, and the country is tackling the issue on a national level.
Yet for all of the problems thrown up by any modern society – and Ireland has plenty of them on its plate – the fact remains that the Irish warmth and welcome is the real deal, and millions of visitors testify to the sheer ease with which they made friends here. Someone will stop and help you find your way when you’re standing on a corner gawking at a map; you will strike up a conversation if you’re sitting alone in a pub; and there is a very good chance that if you’re stuck somewhere a local will volunteer a lift to wherever you need to go. The Irish love complaining about their country – about the crappy weather, the horrible traffic, the unplanned construction, the venal corruption – and will swear to you that you’re the luckiest person on earth because you don’t have to live here, but they only do it because this is the greatest country on the planet. Make sense? Well, it does here.
Last updated: Sep 10, 2008
