Discarded fast-food, pizza boxes, smashed bottles, burst black bags, vomit, blood, urine and human faeces – these are the staples strewn across the workplace of the capital’s street cleaners as they start a weekend morning shift.
It’s 6am on Sunday.
Drury Street, metres from Dublin’s premier shopping thoroughfare Grafton Street, is ground zero for Dublin City Council’s army of sweepers, power-washers, sanitisers and vacuum-cleaners.
“This is the hotspot,” says Sean-Michael Larkin, the council’s waste services manager.
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This morning he is overseeing 38 cleaning operatives and drivers, bolstered by a number of contractors.
“Temple Bar was the hot spot. It is still very busy there, but since Covid this area is party central,” he says of the partially pedestrianised Drury Street and surrounding streets.
Making his way towards Lower Stephen Street it is clear the aftermath of a weekend night in the capital is not only unsightly but potentially hazardous.
There is a huge amount of broken glass – wine, beer and spirits bottles as well as smashed drinking glasses – along with discarded nitrous oxide canisters, congealing food and human waste.

“That’s more than likely kitchen waste,” says Larkin, gesturing to a mound of potato peelings and prawn shells.
“It’s more than likely one of the private contractors [bin collectors] lifted an overflowing bin and it’s spillage that DCC [Dublin City Council] will have to clean up.”
Two council workers wearing bright yellow gilets sweep debris from the paths on to the road. Repeatedly Larkin stoops down to move bottles and cartons from ledges on to the road, for the oncoming “Multihog”.

The road will soon be swept by this “machine sweeper”, says Larkin. The “Multihog” is a slow-moving vehicle that travels at about 8km-10km per hour with large rotating brushes that sweep then suck up all before it – glass, cans, chip-boxes or mashed-up pizza.
Overhead and at ground level are seagulls with their relentless cacophony.
“They are a protected species. I have no idea why. But they are nightmare for us. They open everything,” says Larkin.
At the turn to South William Street, by a well-known pizza spot, two gulls are pulling slices from a torn bag on the ground, throwing their heads back and swallowing their cold breakfast whole.

“They know their spots,” says Larkin. “They have sampled every food on offer in the city. They know where they like to go.”
It’s 6.15am. The Multihog having already cleared this stretch, South William Street is now being power-washed.
Neil Wrigley, night supervisor with PMAC stone and masonry cleaning contractors, describes what they have cleaned.

“We are removing all the stains left from last night. There’s been puke, pee, two pools of blood over there,” he says, pointing towards Castle Market.
“There was a human poo there,” he grimaces, looking towards the Powerscourt Townhouse Centre.
“We put a bit of pine in the hot water. It just makes the place smell better. The smell of urine is not nice.
“We clean 44 streets over Saturday and Sunday – all over the northside and southside, with six vans.”
Wrigley, who has been removing overnight filth from the streets for a decade, likes the work.
“There is great pride in getting the city back up and running. We see it every morning, the place, how bad it is and then how good we leave it,” he says.
The council have their own wash teams too, says Larkin.
There is 525 operational and 32 administrative staff in street-cleaning services, with crews out almost 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
“We run a night team, working from 10pm to 5.30am six nights a week – washing and street-cleaning. That is going up to seven nights a week. Another crew starts at 6am to 2pm and then another from 2pm to 10pm,” says Larkin.
The team also includes drivers in larger sweeping and cleaning trucks, the Johnston 600s, and staff operating large sweeping/vacuuming machines known as “madvacs” pushed and manoeuvred on footpaths.
And then there are the crews emptying and re-bagging more than 3,200 bins across the city, of which just under 1,000 are within the 4km of the city centre.
Onwards towards Dame Street, there are multitudes of tourists already on the move. Dozens are gathered at the Molly Malone statue on Andrew Street, likely waiting for a tour bus, at about 6.30am.
At Temple Bar Square Peter Flanagan is one of two operatives sweeping a sea of takeaway bags, cartons and other debris on to Fownes Street for removal by a Multihog.
“This is not too bad really,” says Flanagan. “Some mornings it can be a hell of a lot worse. Sure you could have 100 bins there and they’d still throw it everywhere.”
Up Crow Street, towards Dame Street and more bags filled with restaurant waste, including packaging, are split open.

Larkin believes these may have been upended by people looking for empty cans and plastic bottles to exchange in the Re-Turn deposit scheme.
“I call them the Re-Turn entrepreneurs. It’s a new issue we face,” he says.
He is hopeful the removal of the derogation that allows city centre business use plastic bags to dispose of waste, from September, will reduce this spilt rubbish dramatically.
“They are a real issue for us. They are cheap and cheerful but they mean rubbish is everywhere,” he says.
On Grafton Street, destitute people are sleeping in doorways as council staff sweep.
“We work around the homeless,” says Larkin.
“Once they are gone, we come back and remove the cardboard [on which many bed down] and any other waste. It is a sensitive issue but generally we have good relationship with them. There is a large human element to this work.”
Shortly after 7am, back at Drury Street, Philip Clarke is sweeping up the last remnants of debris.

“The wife says I am the best Hooverer, the best floor washer,” he says, laughing.
“I had good naval training washing the decks. I was in the naval reserve for five years – got them decks shipshape and Bristol fashion.”
On the same shift two weeks ago the street was “a sea of glass ... there were cars doing U-turns ... they couldn’t come up here,” he says.
Asked why the scene was so bad he mentions high temperatures over the weekend of July 12th and 13th.
“The weather plays a big part. People come into town, drink, enjoy themselves. If the weather is good the mess the next day will be really bad,” he says.
“The worst thing that could happen would be if they extended the licensing hours. We’d never get in to clean up after them.
“Now, the clubs close around 3am and people are gone home by 4am so you have that window of opportunity. If nightclubs weren’t closing until six in the morning, sure they’d still be in town when we’re coming on. We’d never clean it.”
In his job since 2001, he takes great pride in the work.
“When we come on, it looks like a bomb is after hitting the place,” he says.
“But in the space of two hours, the place is licked clean, ready to hand it back to the people.”
