Croppies stand up - An Irishman’s Diary about reclaiming a Dublin park

On foot of an approving mention of the reopened Croppies Acre in Dublin recently, I received a depressing letter from a Meath reader, rather less enamoured.

He had been visiting the nearby National Museum at Collins Barracks in mid-July (during the heatwave, which may explain some of the following) and, noticing the open gates on a park he had only ever driven past, he stepped inside.

Among those already there, he observed, were a group of “three men and two women very loudly drunk, with a collection of bottles and cans littered about”.

Elsewhere, at intervals around the lawns, were no fewer that eight prostrate figures (“some in sleeping bags”), but “all with bottles and cans close by”.

A party of tourists came in after the letter writer. Unfortunately, “a quick look at the occupants convinced them to go no further”. By then, he too had seen enough. “I won’t be back,” he writes, adding “Perhaps it’s time to close the gates.”

Tourists

Now, the first thing I would say to the Meath reader, and to those tourists, is that you don’t have to go to Croppies Acre to see Dublin people in sleeping bags with cans and bottles nearby.

You can witness that in doorways all over the city, even in upmarket shopping areas. And I don’t hear of anyone abandoning those as a result.

As for closing the gates, they were of course already closed, for several years until this summer, because of what the authorities always call “anti-social behaviour”, some involving hard drugs.

That was a shameful waste of what should be one of the city’s finest green spaces, part of a dramatic landscape that includes the museum, the Liffey quays, the main Guinness yard and Heuston Station.

But if the Meathman was right, my fear was that the park’s new owners, Dublin City Council (which carried out the revamp) might be as easily discouraged as the previous ones (the Office of Public Works) and put the padlocks back.

So since the letter, I have taken to walking, cycling and running through Croppies Acre almost daily, at various times, to see if things are as bad as he suggested. And I am happy to say they are not, although the return or more typical Irish weather may have helped.

It is true that the park is rarely without at least one occupant drinking Dutch Gold or something similar. While running laps of it on Wednesday, in the evening sunshine, I saw several. A couple even had a bagful of bottled beers, as if at a music festival. But they were drinking quietly, at least. And they were outnumbered by sober people, including a skateboarder, two lads playing football and a few strollers. With the possible exception of a fellow jogger, wearing earphones, I wouldn’t call anyone I saw there “anti-social”.

The litter was disheartening, I admit. Bottles and cans aside, it included at least one sheet of tin foil, which I doubted had been used for baking.

Stone wall

Not for the first time, I was struck by the misfortune of the park’s central feature, a spiral stone wall with inscriptions.

It was part of the original 1998 design, commemorating the 1798 Rebellion. But as a partial hiding place, the only one in the park, it does also tend to be used for purposes other than honouring the dead.

Still, when I dropped in again, early Thursday, the litter was all gone and the park was restored to pristine condition. There was a solitary, sad drinker on a bench. But there was also a strolling couple from the midlands, just off a train I guessed, who asked me what the park commemorated.

This was a mistake on their part. Halfway through my enthusiastic history lecture, they were backing off nervously, as if I had a syringe. I hope I didn’t put them off returning.

Wardens

When I rang the council later to inquire what the chances were of them deploying park wardens, a spokesman admitted that would not happen.

The hope, he said, is that just by having more people use the place, the “anti-social” stuff will be discouraged.

This was what I have been trying to do lately, in my own way. So my message to the Meath man who fled at the sight of a few drinkers is to come back, and bring friends.

The Croppies Acre is a monument to a generation who tried to reclaim their country and were, in many cases, hanged for it. It shouldn’t be beyond us, comparative wimps as we may be, to reclaim a park.