Emer McLysaght

1 month ago | irishtimes.com | Emer McLysaght

My best friend watches the sun like a hawk. Every spring she tracks it as it creeps around her side garden wall. She reports on its progress as it inches towards the far end of her clothesline and when it hits a certain spot she announces, like a 40-something Dublin 7 groundhog, that summer is on its way. She, like so many Irish people, lives for a sunny day. Particularly a sunny day with any bit of heat in it.

2 months ago | irishtimes.com | Emer McLysaght

During Covid someone in my neighbourhood invested in a can of spray paint and used their two-kilometre allowance to indulge in some street art. Their work wasn’t aesthetically pleasing. Rather it was in the “doom-laden chicken scratching” genre of graffiti. Among the warnings about killer jabs and Chinese conspiracies, though, was one portent that stuck with me. It warned about the dangers of “sleepwalking into a cashless society”.

2 months ago | irishtimes.com | Emer McLysaght

There are certain trips abroad that you need to steel yourself for. Journeys to cities such as Oslo, Reykjavik, Hong Kong or Paris. Not because of danger, or travel stress, or extremes of temperature or culture shock, but because people will drive you to distraction telling you how expensive everything will be. “Oh, it’s very dear,” was the refrain when I travelled to Norway for a short break a few years ago. “Nine euro for a beer.

2 months ago | irishtimes.com | Emer McLysaght

There are certain trips abroad that you need to steel yourself for. Journeys to cities such as Oslo, Reykjavik, Hong Kong or Paris. Not because of danger, or travel stress, or extremes of temperature or culture shock, but because people will drive you to distraction telling you how expensive everything will be. “Oh, it’s very dear,” was the refrain when I travelled to Norway for a short break a few years ago. “Nine euro for a beer.

2 months ago | irishtimes.com | Emer McLysaght

I used to become institutionalised at Electric Picnic. That’s how much I loved going to festivals. By the time Monday rolled around and I’d been sleeping in the tent for three nights surrounded on all sides by a cacophony of noise, I was loath to go home. There was nothing an 11am vodka couldn’t solve, and so what if the air mattress had a slow puncture? Isn’t that what the pump is for? I was willing to pack it all in for life in a field.