A resident in one of the more pleasant parts of Dublin's city centre was recently awarded several thousand euro in compensation for the upset she received over the years due to the operation of a nightclub near her home. She had complained, among other things, of the noise, of bodily functions being performed in public and of the display of inappropriate sexual congress. All of this unpleasantness was visible from her window. Though she might find it hard to agree, this lady was lucky, writes John Moran.
From my own city-centre window, which overlooks the junction of Bishop Street, Peter Row and Aungier Street, I have witnessed depredations such as those complained of above - and more. On most nights I hear a cacophony of shouting, screeching, arguing and occasionally, fighting - with an accompanying soundtrack of sirens from ambulances, fire engines, Garda cars and motorcycles hurrying to deal with the many casualties of excessive drinking, which is at the core of all this disruption and disorder.
The only night when I can be sure I don't need to insert earplugs is Tuesday. You see, the "weekend" now begins on Wednesday; and, of course, Monday nights out are often necessary for "a curer". Which leaves only trouble-free Tuesdays, when the multitudes stay at home and those who for the rest of the week have the unfortunate task of serving them and driving them home can have a well deserved night out.
More nights out
One of the drawbacks of Irish affluence is that now more people than ever can afford to have more nights out. Pubs, superpubs and small hotels with huge bars have been opened or expanded to cater for the increased demand. Many of these establishments open for much longer hours than ever before. All of which means that hordes of revellers, high on the influences of alcohol and hormones, are unleashed onto the streets. As they pass from pub to pub or club throughout the evening or as they head home in the early hours, they encounter one another in various states of intoxication. An exchange of unpleasantries often takes place which can result in anything from handbags at five paces to general mayhem and even murder.
While the woman referred to at the beginning of this lament had only one alcohol-dispensing venue to complain of, dozens of such emporiums line the connecting streets from South Great George's Street to Aungier Street, through Wexford Street and Camden Street, on to Portobello and further beyond to Rathmines. Many of these venues are in clusters. One of them can hold 3,000 people. Such clusters can be found in many other areas of Dublin and in cities and towns throughout the State.
Friday and Saturday nights are normally the most disorderly, but the occasional holidays and festivals are worse again. On St Patrick's night I heard more sirens passing beneath my window than ever before - and saw more mayhem than is usual for even a bad Saturday night. While I usually turn up the volume and ignore the racket below, that night's discord was of a different order, culminating in near disaster for two families.
Anguished shouts
First there was the sound of a loud thud of a vehicle hitting something. Anguished shouts and plaintive screams indicated this was a serious incident. From my window I saw two people lying still on the ground at the side of Aungier Street DIT.
Obviously distressed friends and bystanders were holding their heads or frantically calling the emergency services on their mobile phones. The stricken men didn't move and it was clear they had suffered serious injuries.
While trying to take in this appalling scenario, I could hear sirens coming up Aungier Street. As if the scene below wasn't chaotic enough already, a speeding vehicle crashed heavily into a parked car and skewed backwards across the street. Within minutes, the street was swarming with gardaí, controlling the traffic and crowd - and offering whatever treatment they could to the injured parties. Reading accounts of the incident in the next day's newspapers, I discovered that the two young men were critically ill and on life-support systems.
Public disquiet
With the proliferation of incidents such as these and many even more grievous ones - such as the deaths of two gardaí last weekend - surely it is long past the time when the seasonal Operation This or That, however welcome, will be enough to satisfy public disquiet about the link between drink and after-dark disorder in Dublin and elsewhere. The imposition of effective controls over the dispersal of drinkers in high-density areas would be a very welcome start for the protection of those who live in or pass through afflicted areas - and for anxious parents waiting for their children to come home. Publicans could be levied to contribute towards the dispersal of patrons, perhaps based on their venue's capacity in terms of numbers.
It is also long beyond the time for political will to be garnered and galvanised into identifying measures that might reduce the massive demand for alcohol - such as closer controls on advertising. An end to the practice of politicians being pictured with drinks in their hands would be a small, but welcome, start.