Moving back to the UK from Ireland isn’t just about work and family. A few things about living in Ireland made this an easier decision.
Living in Ireland: the bad side
1. The damp and the un-light
One of my partner’s first observations about Ireland was that when (American) tourists say how green it is, they forget why it’s so green. Ireland is a temperate rainforest, even in the towns.
It’s not just that it rains in Ireland. The relative humidity in Ireland is often more than 90 per cent, so you can see and feel the water in the air, even if it isn’t raining. Irish people talk about “a good drying day” because hanging your washing out won’t dry it without a good breeze and a bright sky.
Maybe the moisture is why the light can be so poor. Even in the summer, something leaches the life out of the daylight. After an early start with Layla, a day which started out bright and fresh can feel dull and dead by the middle of the day.
I’ve started to crave sunlight this year, when we got so much of this un-light. Birmingham might not be the south of France, but it’s a hell of a lot lighter than Ireland. On the bright side, I’ll miss the rainbows.
2. Being an Amazon-published author in post-Brexit Ireland
Amazon has its European HQ in Ireland but that doesn’t mean it’s a good place to be an Amazon self-published author. Ireland’s entire population wouldn’t fill London, so it doesn’t have its own Amazon store. Post-Brexit, that’s become both a problem and a convenient excuse.
When I published Blood River in 2022, I couldn’t order a pre-print proof copy of the paperback edition to be delivered to Ireland. Amazon blamed Brexit, even though it would be a tariff-exempt commercial sample. I couldn’t even order a copy of the paperback when it was published (a friend in the UK took delivery for me).
Fast-forward to re-issuing Blood River this summer, and I still couldn’t get a proof copy. Brexit’s still to blame, they say, but at least I can now order a retail copy. It’s a step forward, and Ireland’s supposed to be getting its own Amazon marketplace in 2025. Shame I won’t be here.
If the world’s largest retailer cannot deal with the fallout from Brexit, it’s no wonder that smaller retailers and manufacturers in Britain are struggling to maintain their exports. But I’m sure Nigel will blame the foreigners.
3. Guinness is good, but there’s no real ale
I’ve always preferred real ale to lager or stout, but in Ireland you have to drink one of the other. There are historic reasons for that, which go back to the British occupation, like so much else (the same reason soda bread became Ireland’s standard).
Ireland today has a thriving craft beer scene, but it tends to deliver hoppy IPAs with a lager-y fizz and lack of depth. Don’t even start me on the weird taste of Smethwick’s Red Ale. I’ve had British red ales, and I don’t know what that’s supposed to be.
Now Irish stout is a grand drink, but lately I’ve started to crave a flat British bitter or real ale. I long for a subtle taste experience with a head that’ll froth away if you don’t drink it fast enough.
4. The fading veggie choices
I’m not a vegetarian, but my partner is, so I come to vegetarian food from the perspective of wanting to make someone else happy. Ireland isn’t a naturally veggie-friendly country, so much so that you’ll have to ask the deli counter staff to use a different chopping board or knife if you order a meat-free roll.
Lately, though, the supermarket sections for vegetarian food have shrunk from two or three cabinets to one or less. Some places have a stronger showing in the freezer, but it’s definitely on the wane. It’s also harder to find interesting veggie options when you eat out, especially in smaller places. It feels like the 1990s in the UK, where everywhere served the same choice of veggie lasagne, spaghetti bolognese or nut roast.
It’s better in Dublin than a small town in the centre of a farming county. My suspicion is that contemporary Ireland has seen an influx of East Europeans who are even less veggie-inclined than the Irish. Supermarkets and restaurants are just responding to the market (and if that’s true, Polish people very much prefer pizza to pea-protein).
5. The cost of living
The cost of living crisis is global, but it bites harder in some places than others. Ireland feels like a place that’s getting a sustained chomping.
One of the things I’ve noticed when I drop back to the UK is that many staples are consistently cheaper in British shops. The cost of living is about 30 per cent higher in Ireland, not only because of retail and utility prices, but because it’s taxed to hell. Income tax is Scandinavian, alcohol is heavily taxed, and vehicle ownership taxes are punitive, in a country with terrible public transport.
And yet no-one seems to know where the money goes. The public health system is nowhere near as broad as the NHS, so most Irish people also pay for private healthcare. Even a quick trip to your GP is €60, and it’s €20 for a repeat prescription or a blood test. Roads are good, but there’s a lot of toll motorways. The Gardai and other emergency services are underfunded. But I hear there’s a lovely bike shed at the Dáil, Ireland’s parliament. And to be fair, the schools seem to be good and university is free, even if it’s madly expensive to live anywhere. Benefits are good, but employment is high, so the bill can’t be that much.
Anyway, we’re returning to a Britain that looks set to continue austerity, so plus ça change. No doubt there’s a post screaming mea culpa in my future.