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Contributors JP Conroy, Fionn de Barra, Christian Forde and Oisinn Wallace

 

SOUTH DUBLIN –

How to get by on, like, €10,000 a day

Edited by Ross O'Carroll-Kelly

To all the girls we've loved before

Introduction

Nestled between the grim boglands of Wicklow and the filthy squalor of North and West Dublin is a land of untold beauty and wealth, which boasts more millionaires per square acre than Manhattan, where the pace of life is positively Californian, where males address one another by their surnames, where a sense of community is non-existent – and where the sun never stops shining …

In spite of all this, South Dublin – or ‘the saithsade’ in the local parlance – remains one of the world's most overlooked holiday destinations. Yet visitors to this tranquil, sun-kissed paradise find a land full of surprises – not all of them involving their credit card statements.

South Dublin is so much more than home to the world's most expensive cappuccino. Visitors are often surprised to discover that the Southside has a cultural history dating back more than twenty years. This is reflected not only in its glorious art, music and theatre, but in the Mock-Tudor, Mock-Gothic and Mock-Georgian architecture with which it has become synonymous.

For the gastronome, too, South Dublin has much to recommend it. Where else would you find a restaurant that effects the dining mannerisms of the eighteenth-century French aristocracy, or a restaurant where steak, chips and onion rings for two will set you back a couple of hundred euro? Then there are the gourmet food shops, selling everything from Imperial Beluga Black Sea caviar to low-carb, sugar-free truffles. Terrine of duck foie gras, gluten-free shortbread and elk summer sausage are as plentiful on the Southside as crack cocaine is on the Northside.

Bathed by the warm currents of the Gulf Stream and the North Atlantic Drift, South Dublin has a hot, humid climate, not unlike that of the Cayman Islands, with whom Southsiders share a natural affinity. Add in the 365 days of guaranteed sunshine per year and it's not difficult to see why houses here are changing hands for the equivalent of the GNP of a small, backward country, such as Albania, Chad … or the rest of Ireland.

South Dublin is still technically part of the Irish Republic, although to all intents and purposes it is a sovereign state unto itself, with its own language, rituals and customs. Prosperity has accelerated the progress towards full secession, which, it is predicted, could take place before the year 2020.

South Dublin is not only the cradle of the Celtic Tiger, it is also a land rich in cultural diversity, where barristers live next door to stockbrokers, where judges live next door to businessmen and where heart surgeons live side by side with brain surgeons. Furthermore, its cultural horizons are forever expanding. Take a minute to sit in Hilper's or Starbucks and – providing you can overcome the language barrier – listen to the young intellectuals from UCD and DBS debate the big issues of the day: who will win Big Brother VIII, how many points are in a skinny peach and raspberry muffin and what is the best way to apply Piz Buin to one's feet without getting streaks?

Zero-tolerance policing and strict border controls have brought about the almost total eradication of crime, apart from petty offences such as tax evasion, planning corruption, money laundering and other misdemeanours.

South Dubliners love their sport – mostly the ones they're good at. The area, for instance, boasts more yachts per head of population than Monte Carlo.

An estimated 40 per cent of South Dublin is made up of golf courses. That figure is set to increase to as much as 60 per cent as rising prices force what remains of the area's indigenous working-class population out into the townships of North and West Dublin, or further south to Wicklow and Wexico, leaving vast swathes of land to be developed to answer the pressing demand for more room in which to golf. The national obsession, however, is rugby, and excitement reaches fever-pitch whenever the famous Leinster team plays, with fans driven to such delirious excesses as actually going to the games and occasionally cheering.

Visitors to South Dublin should take time to sample its wonderfully vibrant nightlife. The South-side is home to two of the world's most exclusive nightclubs. No famous visitor to Ireland is permitted to leave without spending an evening in either Lillie's Bordello or Renards. For sybarites, there are literally dozens of fashionable fleshpots where the Celtic Tiger's young cubs gather to pout and strut their stuff like catwalk models. The city caters for revellers of all ages, from the celebrated Wesley Disco, where to have knickers on is to be overdressed, to the über-cool Ice Bar and its famous range of outrageously priced Mojitos. And don't be dissuaded by a refusal from the door staff of a pub or club. This is simply an elaborate ritual that ‘bouncers’ – or admission consultants, as they   prefer to be known – engage in to find out whether you're pissed or, worse, working class, like them. After indulging them for a few minutes, you'll eventually be let in, providing, of course, that you're neither.

For the overseas visitor there is no end of things to do. You can spend an afternoon in Bel-Éire, gazing at the gated mansions where Bono, Van Morrison and Eddie Irvine occasionally live. Enjoy an afternoon's sailing through the tranquil, pollution-free waters off Sandycove. Or why not while away an afternoon over a tall, skinny, no-whip vanilla latte in any of the wonderfully soulless chain coffee shops that have sprung up all over the Southside in recent years?

Few places on Earth can match the raw and intense beauty of this region, which has managed to strike the perfect environmental balance between that which has been sculpted by nature and that which has been fashioned by man. Whether you're riding the surf down on Monkstown beach, or riding a heavily Botoxed girl with a fashionably obscure Irish name after half-a-dozen Mint Juleps in Lillie's, you'll be bowled over by its unique sense of aesthetic equilibrium.

South Dublin has something for travellers of all kinds, except the ones with a capital T, who are advised to park their caravans somewhere more appropriate, such as Tallaght or Finglas.

As the furnace that fired Ireland's miracle economic turnaround, South Dublin is the place to do business in Europe, and hundreds of thousands of business types flock here every year, hoping some of the entrepreneurial energies of financial titans like Sean Dunne and Denis O’Brien will rub off on them. Thanks to men like these, as well as their über-rich friends, the area bristles with economic good health. Recent constructions, such as the Dundrum Town Centre, and the annexation of the South Inner City area by the computer industry – Googleland – have given this already modern, cosmopolitan corner of the world a new, twenty-first-century dimension. It's predicted that Ballsbridge will soon become a city in itself – South Dublin's very own gleaming capital, with shiny new corporate skyscrapers bearing down on dowdy old Dublin City.

Southsiders take justifiable pride in their environment. They recycle more than any other people in Europe, and what waste can't be reused is left outside their homes in wheelie bins, taken away and dumped on the Northside, or in a large municipal dump in north Wicklow known as Bray. Whales, dolphins and seals frolic in the cleanest waters in Europe, off the Southside coast. South Dublin's only indulgence with regard to pollutants is the ubiquitous SUV, which has become as recognizable a symbol of the area as the yellow taxi is of New York.

For all their self-confidence, South Dubliners can often seem quite reserved. Don't worry, it's only rudeness and just takes a little getting used to. They'll generally show little or no interest in you until they establish some common connection; then they'll be as false and insincere to you as they are to each other.

All this – and shopping! South Dublin is a consumer's paradise, with thousands of shops just waiting to take your money – and look sulky about it in the process.

It's little wonder that stars such as Bono and Brian O'Driscoll have chosen South Dublin as their home over the South of France.

There's never been a better time to visit the Southside. This sun-drenched, fun-loving, bountiful playground is just waiting for you to arrive … with your plastic.

How to Use This Guide

This travel guide is divided into three main content areas. The first section is called ‘The Basics’. It contains all the information you'll need to gain an understanding of this extraordinary region and its people, thus enabling you to get the most from your visit. The second section takes you on a journey through each of South Dublin's eight districts, offering in-depth accounts of the sights, practical tips on activities and up-to-the-minute reviews of the most expensive places to stay, eat and drink. Each of the book's authors offers his tuppence-worth on his own particular areas of expertise in the regular ‘A Word From’ pieces. The final section is the ‘ThesauRoss’, a dictionary of words and terms commonly used in South Dublin. It will give you a better understanding of what the fock everyone is banging on about.

The Basics

South Dublin is a beautiful, sun-kissed oasis in the North Atlantic, situated just 67 miles (105 km) off the coast of Britain. It is 1,224 miles (1,931 km) from Tuscany, 4,312 miles (6,920 km) from Barbados and 6,107 miles (9,656 km) from the Maldives …

Geography

South Dublin is, at the time of writing, still attached to the Ireland landmass. It is located between North Dublin and the counties of Wicklow and Kildare, and affords spectacular sea views, as well as access to every modern facility. Defined to the north by the River Liffey and to the east by the Irish Sea, its exact area is uncertain, as its southern and western boundaries are open to interpretation. A number of estate agents have suggested it stretches as far south as Bray and as far west as Tallaght, but have subsequently been prosecuted under the Trades Description Act. For the vast majority of Southsiders, anything south of Killiney and west of Dundrum is not South Dublin but either ‘Bogland’ or ‘the Northside’.

The borders have been further confused by the growing prosperity of a number of coastal suburbs north of the Liffey, including Howth, Sutton, Portmarnock and Clontarf, which regard themselves as being more ‘Southside’ than areas such as Ballybrack and Sallynoggin, which are technically within the boundaries of South Dublin.

Recent years have seen the notional line that divides the city socially turn 90° on its axis, so that the conflict is now between east and west rather than south and north. Many, however, regard being a Southsider as not so much a geographical question as a state of mind.

South Dublin's unique position on the map means it enjoys hot and humid summers and warm weather for the remainder of the year. While the rest of Ireland suffers through icy winters and more than 300 days of rainfall a year, the North Atlantic Drift ensures that the temperature in South Dublin rarely drops below 30°C, even in December. It represents one of the world's most significant temperature anomalies relative to latitude and goes some way towards explaining the proliferation of palm trees in South Dublin, as well as other plants more commonly associated with tropical climes.

History

The earliest recorded reference to South Dublin, as distinct from the rest of the county, is in the writings of Claudius Ptolemaeus, the astronomer and cartographer. Around the year AD 140, he referred to it as Eblana Nosupitas, literally ‘Land of People With Their Noses in the Air’.

The settlement of Dublin is thought to date back to the first century BC. The name is an Anglicized version of Dubh Linn, which is Gaelic for Blackpool, and the continued use of the name today reflects the poorer side of the city’s love affair with slot-machines,

deep-fried food and walking around on sunny days with their tops off.

Even in those pre-Christian times the division lines between North and South were being drawn. The more prosperous people settled south of the Liffey and considered the population on the other side of the river – who were proud, rather than ashamed, of being descended from the invading Celts – to be uncouth, with inferior intelligence and low standards of personal hygiene. Northsiders were distinguished c then, as today, by their wispy moustaches and pigeon-like gait, and they remain true to their Celtic ancestry to this day, with most of them supporting a Scottish soccer team that bears the name.

Most Southsiders were keen to put as much distance between themselves and their Celtic past as they could, especially when they started to make serious amounts of wonga, which was the currency in Ireland's earliest monied economy. While Northsiders eked out a meagre living from hunting, fishing and farming, Southsiders became traders, brehons or, as they're known today, senior counsels.

Fifth-century Ireland was divided into a number of kingdoms and the earliest record of South Dublin being defined as distinct from North Dublin dates from this time. St Patrick's efforts to introduce Christianity to South Dublin at this time were frustrated when, according to legend, he was told by the king, ‘We're loaded – what the fock do we need to be praying for?’, at which point Patrick switched his efforts to the poorer and more malleable population on the other side of the river. Christianity still thrives in North Dublin to this day, while South Dublin continues to worship wonga.

Ireland's tradition of storytelling first took root during this period. In the centuries before the arrival of the high-definition plasma widescreen television, there was little to do at night but sit around recounting stories of great events, vainglorious battles and tribal histories, most of which were total bullshit. Yet South Dubliners had their folk heroes, like everyone else. The most famous, recorded by scholars on a vellum manuscript that survives to this day, involved a giant named Oisún, who, despite horrific facial deformities, excelled at a type of kick-and-rush ballgame and is said to have bedded 1,000 women. The legend is considered to be the origin of the Leinster Schools Senior Cup.

Ireland missed out on the civilizing influence of the Romans, and by the eighth century the place had gone to ruin, with killings and tribal warfare taking place on a scale that would embarrass some of North Dublin's most infamous suburbs today. South Dubliners were often heard to say, ‘What this place needs is a good invasion.’

They got two – first the Vikings, then the Normans. Despite sacking, raping and pillaging the country, at least they made the streets safer to walk at night.

The Northside resisted the Viking invasion, and, in 1014, Brian Boru, who had set himself up as High King of Ireland, won a decisive victory over the Norsemen at Clontarf. Typically, South Dubliners weren't too concerned, once the trouble was kept to the other side of the city.

The Normans arrived in 1169, and within a year the warrior Strongbow had captured all of Dublin and married a girl called Aoife. His high approval rating in South Dublin is reflected in the continuing popularity of his wife's name in affluent Southside areas today.

Outside of South Dublin there was huge resistance to the Norman conquest, especially after the arrival of Henry II in 1171, which marked the beginning of eight centuries of Anglo-Irish conflict. South Dublin welcomed the invaders from across the water, however, and intermarriage resulted in the Norman conquerors becoming more South Dublin than the South Dubliners themselves. Happy to be subjugated, most of the natives began speaking with clipped, English accents and developed themselves into a landlord class.

For eight centuries the English were a largely benign presence in Ireland, apart from a few isolated incidents, such as the Plantations, the massacres by Oliver Cromwell and his Ironsides, and the Penal Laws, none of which received much publicity in South Dublin. The area was also unaffected by the Potato Famine of 1845–9, which saw one million Irish men and women die of starvation and a further million emigrate, mainly to America. South Dubliners experienced no such horrors, having long since switched to a richer and more varied diet that included wild salmon, roast pheasant, wild boar and various multi-coloured pastas.

The Famine was a watershed in Irish history, as the inadequacy of the British government's response left an enduring legacy of bitterness that fired the demand for independence. South Dublin did not agree with the notion of autonomy from Britain, an attitude that is still common to many Southsiders. The area resisted Home Rule more vigorously than Ulster's Protestants and played no part in the War of Independence (1919–21). The Easter Rising in 1916 was also a purely Northside affair. The guns were landed in Howth by the Irish Volunteers, who took over a number of key administrative buildings, most of them north of the Liffey. Heavy artillery was deployed against the rebel strongholds. Hundreds of shells were fired at the GPO on O'Connell Street, causing millions of pounds worth of improvements. South Dublin opposed the Treaty that followed the War of Independence, believing, like Éamon de Valera, that its future lay as part of a thirty-two-county Republic – under British rule.

Modern History

South Dublin went into a collective sulk after Independence, but soon knuckled down and got on with doing what it does best – making potloads of cash. The rest of Ireland, finally free of ‘the Brits’, spent the next eighty years obsessing about them and engaging in lively debates about who hated ‘them across the water’ the most. Meanwhile, South Dubliners eschewed bitterness, embraced education and began the transition from a mostly landlord class to a diverse professional one.

In 1939 Germany’s invasion of Poland precipitated a conflict that killed 55 million people, involved an effort to exterminate the entire Jewish race, saw two Japanese cities vapourized and, by the time it ended six years later, left the threat of nuclear annihilation hanging over the Earth like the Sword of Damocles. The world called this horror the Second World War; Ireland called it The Emergency, making it sound rather like a chip-pan fire.

During the war, Ireland remained neutral – but neutral more on Hitler's side of things, what with them hating the Brits and that. South Dublin, on the other hand, stood four-square behind the Allies. When Winston Churchill considered a strategic invasion of Ireland to take control of the so-called Treaty ports, the people of Dún Laoghaire were panting like a gaggle of prostitutes waiting for a naval ship to dock. Alas, Churchill changed his mind.

For once South Dublin found itself on the same side as the Catholic Church in the row that brought about the collapse of the inter-party government in 1951. The Minister for Health, Dr Noël Browne, proposed a ‘Mother and Child Scheme’ that would give free medical care to expectant mothers and to children up to the age of sixteen years. He drew the ire of the all-powerful Catholic hierarchy, which felt the proposal interfered with the rights of the family and the individual. South Dubliners opposed it because they resented their tax money being spent on people who could afford cigarettes but couldn't afford private health insurance. The term ‘parasites’ entered the South Dublin lexicon for the first time.

Ireland joined the European Economic Community in 1973, and, after twenty-five years of membership, the rest of the country finally started to enjoy the kind of lifestyle that South Dubliners had been enjoying for generations. Germany, France and the ‘bloody Brits’ paid for Ireland's roads. America opened up lots of factories, giving hundreds of thousands of barely literate boggers jobs in manufacturing, thus saving them from a lifetime on a milking stool.

Now that it has the M50, the Luas light-rail system and the new Dublin Port Tunnel, as well as plans for a rail link to the airport, an underground transport system and a new national sports stadium, Ireland is expected to be very nice when it's finished. South Dublin already is. Even before the upturn in Ireland's economy the area was ridiculously well off. The Celtic Tiger has simply made it rich beyond its dreams. In 2001 South Dublin was declared a UNESCO Region of Extreme Affluence.

How to Get There

Despite its wealth and prosperity, South Dublin does not yet have an airport of its own. If you intend travelling to Ireland on a commercial flight, remember you will be landing on the Northside. Don't be alarmed by the burning buildings and car chases you might see below you as the plane descends towards Dublin Airport. The M50 motorway, which was completed in June 2005, was built as a means of transporting visitors from the airport to the Southside as quickly as possible, without their having to witness any of the Northside's desperate squalor. Alternatively, you can fly to Britain, privately charter a helicopter or small jet, then land on any of the thousands of helipads or private airstrips that are scattered all over South Dublin.

In addition, Stena Sealink operates a high-speed

THE FATHER OF MODERN SOUTHSIDERS: DAVID McWILLIAMS

He's not only Ireland's cleverest man but its poshest, too. And just to send us goys even further over the edge with jealousy, he's also one of the sexiest, according to a poll in some women's magazine or other, proving that knowing loads of stuff isn't necessarily a turn-off for women.

The strawberry-blonde brainiac has been described as ‘Eddie Hobbs with looks’. But, hailing from staunchly middle-class Dalkey, McWilliams is unlikely to advise anybody to scrabble around trying to save 50 cents on a tankful of petrol, or to cross the Liffey to get the cheaper tea-towels in Guineys. While misery-guts Hobbs has tried to make a generation feel guilty for its profligacy with his catchphrase ‘You're being ripped off!’, the man who defined the Celtic Tiger generation in his bestselling book The Pope's Children would likely respond, ‘So what, Dude? We can afford to be!’

Hard as it is to believe, McWilliams played soccer as a boy, much to the concern of his family. But, despite his early identity crisis, he has been flying high ever since. He was educated at Blackrock College, Trinity College and the College of Europe in the Belgian city of Bruges. From 1990 to 1993 he worked as an economist with the Central Bank, doing all sorts of boring stuff, before heading up the European Economics Department for UBS. More corporate high-flying followed in Paris and New York, before he finally appeared on our television screens as the presenter of TV3's Agenda, proving once and for all that economists don't have to be tedious old farts. Tens of thousands of men watched his interviews and said, ‘No man could be that clever,’ while women said, ‘I wouldn't throw him out of bed for talking about carefully staged pre-releases of preference stock and notional rights issues.’

McWilliams has interviewed Mikhail Gorbachev, Hillary Clinton and Henry Kissinger, presented a morning drive-time show on NewsTalk 106 and hosted The Big Bite, a topical afternoon discussion programme on RTÉ television. He's well-known as a really good goy. And he has a holiday home in Croatia – the posh part, naturally – which he's prepared to let people use for free.

P.S. Don't ask to borrow McWilliams's gaff in the first two weeks in August. I usually have it then. – Ross

ferry service between Holyhead and Dún Laoghaire, in the heart of Dublin's Southside. Be warned, however, that the service tends to attract a lot of riff-raff, some enjoying what's known in the local argot as a ‘booze cruise’, others on their way to and from Premiership soccer matches. Even 100 minutes can seem like a lifetime when you're stuck on a boat with a bunch of people wearing Manchester United shirts, drinking cans of Tennent's and singing songs by Aslan.

The People

Being born in South Dublin is like holding a winning ticket in the lottery of life. So it's not surprising that the locals have adopted something of an island mentality. Visitors should be warned that Southsiders can often seem rude to strangers – and also to people they know. Bad manners is only a small part of the picture, however. They are generally a fun-loving people, whether soaking up the sun aboard a 60-ft oyster yacht off the coast of Dalkey, or watching proudly as little Hannah rides her dream pony Chestnut to victory in the local gymkhana.

With their appreciation of French food, Italian shirts and Caribbean holidays, Southsiders can justifiably claim to have been Ireland's first multiculturalists, long before the media ever discovered the term. No one has embraced the invasion of non-nationals quite like them – especially as immigrant workers are cheaper than Irish ones and tend to steal less.

South Dubliners have earned a reputation for intolerance due to their long-standing objections to the building of halting sites in their area. This is undeserved, however. They are, in fact, a very charitable people and there's nothing like a natural disaster in some far-flung country to bring out the kinder side of their nature.

NATIONAL ANTHEM

(to the tune of Go West by the Village People)

We're rich – and we know we are,
We're rich – and we know we are,
We're rich – and we know we are,
We're rich – and we know we are.

(instrumental)

We're rich – and we know we are,
We're rich – and we know we are,
We're rich – and we know we are,
We're rich – and we know we are.

Per capita, South Dublin contributed more money to the Asian tsunami and Turkish earthquake relief funds from roulade sales and fashion shows than any other nation on Earth.

Generally speaking, South Dublin women don't work, but they do keep busy, many of them enjoying hobbies such as tennis, golf and having lunch. There's little they enjoy more than getting together with ‘the girls’ for a good natter over a spinach, pecan and blue cheese quiche in Avoca Handweavers, or anywhere that serves posh food. They also tend to be very involved in their children's lives and like to consider themselves to be best friends with their daughters. And, like their daughters, they sure love to shop!

The men are usually very driven, both by their work and by the sporting achievements of their children, through whom they live out their own dreams vicariously. They drive Kompressors, speak with upper-class English accents and ‘take’ The Irish Times every day. Their dream in life is to play a round of golf with Dermot Desmond, JP McManus and John Magnier. Although they leave school, school never really leaves them, and they maintain an almost Masonic loyalty to their alma mater until the day they die.

It is a fact that South Dublin's young men – or goys – have two main preoccupations: rugby and girls. Their devotion to one and their studied disregard of the other is considered an index of their malehood. They are heavily influenced by American jock culture, and their language and rituals – high-fiving and calling each other ‘Dude’ – are informed by the high-school scene in America. Adolescence lasts much longer in South Dublin than in other parts of the developed world, often into the mid thirties, the age at which most eventually leave home and stop bleeding their parents dry.

As they have their own recondite language and accent, it's virtually impossible to understand South Dublin girls if you are an outsider. Remember, American sitcoms and dramas, such as Friends, The OC and Desperate Housewives, form the collective unconscious of the female 14–30 generation, which explains why most speak with American accents so pronounced that even Californians struggle to make sense of what they are saying.

South Dublin females enjoy a far broader range of interests than males do, including losing weight, boys, texting, shopping, losing weight to get boys, wearing pink, texting boys, shopping for clothes that make them look like they've lost weight, reading Hello! and Heat, shopping for pink clothes, saying ‘OH MY GOD’ a lot, as well as texting each other to report how much weight they've lost, how much shopping they've done and what boys they're interested in. To say that South Dublin girls learn to text in the womb is only a slight exaggeration. In fact, most children's clothes from the age of two up are made with a special pocket to accommodate a mobile phone.

South Dublin boys and girls are generally stupid,

hence the proliferation of grind schools in the area. They seldom find this an obstacle to getting good jobs, though, which explains why South Dublin has the highest standard of living relative to literacy in the entire world.

Heroes of South Dublin Life …

Brian O'Driscoll

Drico. The Dricster. BOD. God. Call him what you will, Brian O'Driscoll is Ireland's first rugby superstar of the professional age and a role model for all South Dublin males. The irony is that, despite the designer clobber and the signature Disney Club voice, O'Driscoll isn’t from the Southside at all. In 2005, after almost a year of surveillance, a tabloid newspaper exposed his darkest secret – Ireland's inspirational captain is from Clontarf, on the city's Northside. However, a fly-on-the-wall documentary about Ireland's 2007 Six Nations campaign revealed O'Driscoll imploring his teammates, ‘Oh, sure, we've been good – but we could be great!’ and his Southside credentials were immediately clear and, like Bono, he has used his enormous wealth to build himself a home on the right side of the city. Apart from that, there's not a lot more to say. A hat-trick of tries in Paris at the tender age of twenty; one of the greatest tries of all time for the Lions at twenty-one; Captain of Ireland at twenty-two; three Triple Crowns; cool cars; fit birds; Ireland's Sexiest Man award. His life story reads like every South Dublin adolescent's wettest dreams come true.

Robbie Fox

Bon viveur, raconteur and confidant to the stars, Robbie Fox is also the owner and gatekeeper of Renard's, Ireland’s most exclusive nightclub. Everyone in South I  Dublin knows his face. The question is: does he know yours?

Liz O'Donnell

Her name literally means, ‘Angel sent by God to make sure Southsiders never give up on democracy’. O'Donnell was a TD for South Dublin between 1992 and 2007, when the electorate decided that her work in the Oireachtas was done and she should spend a lot more time on television, where we can see her. O'Donnell represented the Irish government at the multi-party talks at Stormont that led to the Good Friday Agreement – snore! She is better known as the