The notion that urban life is a blur of stress is a mistake, according to a new book on slow living in the capital

A LITTLE WHILE ago, I had a Sunday of low-key amusements. First up was a free noon-time concert of Mozart at the Hugh Lane Gallery. Then I headed north to Parnell Park, there to see the Cork hurlers dispose of Dublin. I got the Dart home in satisfied, contemplative mood, little realising that I enjoyed an exemplary “slow Dublin” day.

Approval for such an itinerary, and many more Dublin diversions, is to be found in Anto Howard's guidebook for natives, Slow Dublin. Howard takes his queue from the Slow Food movement, the first use of the s-word in a positive sense.

“The idea has leaked out into other aspects of urban living,” he says. His book focuses on sustainable, sensory, pleasures: chatting with the greengrocer rather than using self-service machines at Tesco; knowing the stories behind local street names; appreciating Georgian terraces; stopping by roses in St Anne’s Park.

Though many Dubliners will have had slowness thrust upon them of late, Howard insists his book is not about “not doing, about cutting back. It’s about enjoyment and pleasure in traditional, local things, rather than distracting, instant consumer things. The point isn’t that cities are slow, but to find the slow in the city.”

Slow Dublin aims to remind blasé locals that they live in a special place. Indeed, it is written by a once-blasé local. After moving back to Dublin from New York, Howard realised he “wasn’t getting that much out of the city”. With a little help from his wife Katie, he has learned to take Patrick Kavanagh’s advice: “even Cabra can surprise”.

“My wife was much better at living in this city. She took me on the South Wall walk to Poolbeg lighthouse when I didn’t even know it existed. The sense of being out in the sea, seeing a curlew, then it really hits you when you’re coming back in: this is a bay city. I always say Naples is my favourite city for that reason, but what I saw was like Naples: the mix of nature and industry, the curve of the bay, and the city centre in the middle. I always knew it was a bay city, but I didn’t go and feel it in all its grandeur.”

Asking what makes Dublin unique allowed Howard look beyond the narrow city he had to come to live in. Rather than a place of work, commuting and commerce, he sought out the living city, its full experiences. “When we’re busy or stressed, my suggestion is to be mindful of the city’s pleasures. The things you have to do, like shopping, try to make it pleasurable. These are not great secrets, but a reminder for people, a nudge in the right direction.”

With chapters devoted to the senses and a focus on seasonal cycles rather than the daily grind, Slow Dublinshows that in the city we need not be out of nature.

“Your city doesn’t get boring if you spot the changes in trees or light at different times of the year,” says Howard, who enthuses about the easily reached mountains, the mudflats of North Bull with their thousands of birds and, of course, the seaside.

This is not to mention the city's chief attraction: its people. Despite the supposed suburban mentality of the Irish, Howard found many Dubliners with "a great attitude to living in the city". They were doing amazing things, like Kaethe Burt-O'Dea with her community garden in Stoneybatter. In America I think they would've felt they had the answer, but here they were modest about it: and a big slow thing to me is not to be pushing things." Slow Dublindoes a lot of nudging, but certainly no pushing.

Slow Dublinis published by Affirm Press (slowguides.com); €14.95

Urban renewal: Discovering Dublin at a snail’s pace

SLOW NEIGHBOURHOOD

STONEYBATTER

Stoneybatter has become the kind of place where work-life balance is not a problem. Ask one of its many hipsters what they do and chances are the first word out of their mouth will be “freelance”. In a world of Spar and Centra, locals can opt for Brendan O’Mahony’s Lilliput Stores, where you find Ireland’s finest artisan foods – but also milk and the paper. It’s next door to a small art gallery and across the street from Kaethe Burt-O’Dea’s community garden. Throw in seasonal street parties and a strong community spirit and you’re in slow heaven. There’s even Walsh’s pub, one of the great places in which to enjoy Dublin’s original slow, sensory experience: the pint of black stuff.

SLOW ADVENTURE

DALKEY ISLAND

Most Dubliners are used to seeing the odd seal knocking around Howth or Dún Laoghaire, but do we ever wonder where they all hang out? Howard recommends making your own David Attenborough adventure by hiring a boat in Dalkey between September and November and going out to Dalkey Island. It’s breeding season and you’ll spot multitudes of seals with their young cubs on the island’s shore.

SLOW CONCERT

CHOIRS IN ST PATRICK’S AND CHRIST CHURCH

Howard recommends the regular evensongs and matins for a truly slow experience. “I like churches when they are empty and they don’t tend to be busy at evensong. I don’t find Mass very relaxing but this is a lovely way to experience music.

“It’s not like going to a gig and saying ‘okay, entertain me’. It’s happening there, whether you come or not. It feels somewhat like you’re intruding a little on this moment.”

SLOW HIDEAWAY

BLESSINGTON STREET BASIN

In a city of quite a few “secret gardens” this one really is. Used as a reservoir for whiskey distilleries until the 1970s, the basin, says Howard, is “a very unusual contrast of natural and industrial, with red brick Victorian buildings backing on to what’s been reclaimed by nature. There are no big gates, just little arches off the streets around it. I’ve never seen more than five people there. I’ve heard it described as a Venetian landscape in Dublin. A little history, a little quiet; it’s a great place to go.”

SLOW BUILDING

DAINTREE BUILDING

This is what we could have done with the boom: a sustainably built mixed-use development featuring wool insulation, solar panels, heat pumps and rainwater recycling. It is home to apartments, Solearth Ecological Architects, Daintree Paper and the brilliant Cake Café, run by Michelle Darmody of Dublin Slow Food Convivium.

SLOW HERO

LEOPOLD BLOOM

Here’s a man who notices everything: who stops to feed the seagulls, who smells his bar of soap, who buys his kidneys local and fresh each morning. Also, it took Joyce 700 pages just to recount one of his days. Clearly, Bloom is the slow city role model for us all.

SLOW RETURN

As a travel writer, Howard is not one to advise refrain from taking holidays, but he does have a tip for homesick returnees. Sit on the left-hand side of the plane if you’re coming from London and as the plane banks right for its final approach, the mountains, city and bay all loom into one spectacular view.