While strolling near Dublin Castle, at the upper end of Swift’s Alley recently, I overheard a tour guide enlightening a group of tourists about the renowned “forty steps”. This piece of misinformation struck me as it is often the case when I overhear the tour guides of Dublin. I was almost inclined to intervene with a correction.
Wasn’t it the staircase that weaves around St Audoen’s church, located between the ancient city wall and High Street, just a few hundred metres to the west, which was famously known as the forty steps? Also, I was dubious about whether Swift’s Alley, attributed to the famous Dean who resided at its end, even consisted of 40 steps. However, I refrained from making a comment at the moment. A brief detour for confirming the facts later clarified that the said alley does indeed have forty steps, distributed in five sets of eight. Nevertheless, I am still of the conviction that the original forty steps are the ones at St Audoen’s church. If we were to consider both these spots as the rightful bearers of the title, it should also be noted that Dublin can boast of yet another contender.
On the western end of the Liberties, the menacingly named Cromwell’s Quarters in Kilmainham region, which bore the equally macabre name “Murdering Lane” until it became more middle-class in the 1890s, also claims the title “Forty Steps”.
A supposed disagreement persists among locals and the tour guides over the exact step count of this place, with many insisting (backed by certain Wikipedia pages), that there are only 39 steps, I took the task upon myself to verify this and I can affirm that there are indeed 40 steps, in either direction.
One wonders what is this obsession about dubbing the steps in Dublin as ‘forty steps’? The number forty could perhaps hold a sacred significance to stonemasons or urban planners. It wouldn’t be entirely surprising if it did – after all, forty has a symbolic presence across various contexts – it’s the number of days observed for saints’ fasts, the timeframe for Lent, the ideal count for a good nap and even represents Ireland’s myriad shades of green, and so forth.
The Layers donned by the renowned character from Liberties street, Forty Coats, were reportedly equivalent to his namesake. It is rumoured that his favoured spot to loiter was “on the Forty Steps”, albeit the exact location remains uncertain, leaving room for debate.
Located on South William Street, Powerscourt Townhouse boasts arguably the most sought-after steps in Dublin. These seven semicircular steps are not just focal points, they also functioned as a setting for mass outdoor rallies during the peak of the pandemic which caused an uproar nationwide. For this reason, they’ve experienced a considerable amount of cleaning to deter alcohol enthusiasts.
In recent times, they’ve been transformed into a stage for pop-up music performances, a Summer-in-Dublin initiative by the council. The arrangement, however, is marred by the fact that autos continue to interfere between the audience and the performance. Thankfully, the cleaning frequency has been reduced, resulting in generally dry steps, regardless of those sitting on them.
For Andrew Basquille and other city walkers that embarked on a Joyce-inspired city tour – a quest to crisscross Dublin without encountering a pub – the city proved vast. Thanks a computer programmer, Rory McCann, who developed an algorithm to find a pub-free path across the city, this riddle was ultimately solved.
The boundaries for “crossing” were determined from North to South and East to West, bracketed by the canals. The conditions excluded hotels (and the basement bar of Connradh na Gaeilge HQ on Harcourt street) but required a minimum of 35 metres distance from any pub-like establishment.
This solution has since been incorporated into some Dublin tour maps, alleviating Basquille’s challenge when guiding a walking group along the scripted path.
The journey embarked from Leeson Street Bridge, meandering through Adelaide Road and Iveagh Gardens, ones known for their strict abstinence, before penetrating the ancient quarters of Dublin and crossing the river into the stone-cold sobriety of Stoneybatter, before surging upwards through Aughrim Street to North Circular Road, all whilst evading Leeson Street’s more salacious spots.
The most hazardous zone in terms of alcohol temptation lay just east of Stephen’s Green. It was here the travellers navigated their way through a flat complex, keen to dodge The Swan or The Lucky Duck. Positioned on the corners of York Street and Digges Street, these establishments posed as guardians of intoxication.
As they approached the bustling Aungier Street, Andrew faced a conundrum. Would he risk the wellbeing of his group amidst the Dublin traffic or bend the rules and walk to one of the forewarned corners for a traffic light?
Miraculously, it seemed that Father Mathew’s spirit was accompanying them, as the traffic parted unexpectedly “like the Red Sea”, allowing them to cross, free from the lure of alcohol.
I was slated to join the tour at some juncture, unfortunately, I was unable to arrive promptly. Instead, I met the group at their final stop, Hanlon’s Corner, a stop with a name rooted in the pub established there. However, this did not contradict Bloom’s principle as Andrew simply stopped there for an unquestionably deserved pint, without passing by it.