For those who follow my adventures on Instagram, you already know that my Dublin stories don’t end in the city. Today we escape to its outskirts, where the air is fresher, the greens are deeper, and every corner feels like it belongs in a fairytale.
My day starts early. Frank encourages me to join him and his friend for a swim in Dún Laoghaire. Yes, you read that right: the Irish swim ALL YEAR ROUND. Well… they dip in and out quickly, but it’s the first joy of the morning—a ritual that fills you with energy before a warm breakfast of oat porridge with chocolate. I promised myself I’d get into the sea next time—after all, you know what they say: when in Rome…
Then we take the DART to Dalkey, a picturesque coastal village where every street invites you to explore. It’s bucolic, peaceful, almost like a postcard. I fall in love with the beautiful façade of its public library, built in 1901, and with its charming shops and cafés. The Sorrento Pub reminds me of a chapter in Bono’s book where he talks about his father and the hours they spent chatting right there.
We wander along fairy-like paths leading us to an obelisk in Killiney Hill Park, where we enjoy breathtaking views. On the way down, still surrounded by trees, we stop at a small café filled with dog walkers and families—a wonderful, heartwarming atmosphere.
At the foot of the hill we pass Killiney Beach, popular among the brave “Irish swimmers.” There we find several portable saunas, perfect to warm up after plunging into the cold waters of the Irish Sea.
While waiting for the bus in Brye to head to Enniskerry, I discover a charming children’s bookshop tucked away in a little alley: Tales for Tadpoles. Its lovely owner invites me to the upper floor, where I can take a cup of coffee and dream as if I were inside a storybook.
Right next to it is Caffè Letterario La Gatta Nera, small, filled with books and tiny cat decorations. I chat with the girl behind the counter in Italian, and continue my walk feeling happy.
In Enniskerry, a classic café-restaurant called Poppies catches my eye—so cozy, though this time without vegan options. My journey continues through fairy paths and small woodland trails where magic seems to hide behind every tree and stone. Irish nature has something enchanting about it: it makes you smile for no reason and opens up your heart.
On my walk I come across a church hosting a small exhibition: a miniature model depicting everyday Irish scenes. I chat with the priest, who tells me its story. The model is looking for a permanent home in a museum; meanwhile, we can admire it in this beautiful setting. People here are so kind. I adore it.
Finally, I reach the jewel of the day: Powerscourt House and Gardens. The elegance of the house, the perfection of the gardens, the paths winding between fountains and statues… everything invites you to slow down, to notice every detail, and to surrender to the splendour of autumn colours.
In the vast gardens there’s even a pet cemetery, where a Black Beauty lies at rest.
I feel euphoric among the trees and hedges. I reach the Japanese garden and crawl under an arch-shaped rock, convinced that somehow all the magic and energy of the place will cling to me.
Dublin and its surroundings have a unique ability to blend history, literature, nature, and a touch of enchantment. And as I return to the city, I think about how these little trips outside the centre expand the vision of everything this land has to offer.
Literary Note
I’d like to bring another Irish classic: the king of absurdist theatre, Samuel Beckett, and his masterpiece Waiting for Godot—a text that, through silences, repetitions and endless waiting, reminds us that sometimes the journey—just like this escape outside Dublin—lies in the small things that happen while you head somewhere else.
