With house prices significantly lower than Dublin, but only an hour down the N7 ‘on paper’, Portlaoise attracted many newcomers in the past decade, but not all services – especially the schools – can keep up
SEVEN YEARS ago, it was evident that many newcomers had arrived in Portlaoise by default. They started looking for an affordable home in the outer suburbs then, almost imperceptibly, moved into Kildare – “and suddenly you’re thinking”, as one lonely woman put it, “sure Portlaoise is only down the road and that’s a lovely airy house on a safe estate. And we can AFFORD it !”
Kathryn Blackburn’s life in north-west England ended when her husband Michael – an insurance company statistician – was transferred to Dublin. The house had to be a substantial four-bed to accommodate her grandmother and it had to be near a railway station. With a budget of £250,000, they edged along the N7 until they took possession of one of the most substantial houses in Portlaoise. Michael was bemused at the negative obsession with commuting: where he came from, it was a fact of life. And on paper, he was only an hour from Dublin.
In practice, though, his journey to Dawson Street was just short of two hours. It was a trade-off, he said. But even the pragmatist in him couldn’t understand why smoking was permitted on trains or why officials ignored the bedlam of the bus queues at Heuston.
Meanwhile, with two small children, Kathryn – armed with a psychology and education studies degree – was bringing her childcare expertise to bear on childcare planning in Portlaoise, encouraged by Sonya Duggan, owner of the Kilminchy schoolhouse and creche. For Michael, the commuting gradually got easier; more trains were laid on, smoking was banned, the queueing system for the bus was regulated; the Luas arrived.
Then his company upped sticks and moved to Dundrum. It would have added another 45 minutes to the commute.
He got a job back in England (with a 20-minute drive to work) and Kathryn was snapped up as early years advisor with Surrey Co Council. The house went up for sale in June 2007, and they returned to England, assuming it would sell quickly. They’re still waiting, even though the price has fallen from €700,000 to under €500,000. Apart from that irritation, does Kathryn miss Portlaoise at all?
“I miss people being totally open. People here are so much less trusting and much more cynical.” In the meantimes, she’s done a Masters and joined a book club – that initially seemed rather reserved although “they’ve loosened up a lot!”.
But Portlaoise wasn’t an instant conversion either, Kathryn recalls. Once she realised, after four months, that no-one was going to knock on her door, she put herself out there. “And then I felt truly embraced. There was not one part of culture or society that I felt excluded from. Portlaoise was a lovely place to bring up small babies, so gentle, calm and slow.”
And how did Portlaoise manage its population surge since we spoke in 2003? “The town infrastructure didn’t grow with the population. The hospital did. But there was always a mad scramble for school places,” Kathryn says.
PARISH STATISTICS ALONE show how planners would have needed to gallop just to stand still. Last year, there were 210 confirmations, 260 first communions and 344 baptisms. Fr John Byrne’s frustration at “the lack of joined-up thinking between the planning department and the Department of Education” is evident.
Told to find a site for a new school and to appoint a design team (at a cost of €25,000), the parish did both, only now to find themselves back where they started.
“We have a terrible problem. Every year demand increases by 100 – that’s three to four classrooms.”
But Portlaoise has plenty to be proud of. Fr Byrne, for example, is speaking from the exemplary new community centre in the church grounds, where as Dublin blow-in, Karen Chadwick, points out, “there is something brilliant going on every day: ballet, Irish dancing, scouts, guitar, karate, drama, art, choir. That’s just some of the things my children do.”
Originally from Leixlip, she arrived here with her husband nine years ago because they couldn’t afford “a half-decent house with a bit of a garden”, in Dublin. The marriage didn’t last but soon siblings and parents moved down and there are now 10 of them in or near the town.
“I felt very much an outsider. The place felt very cliquey, but I soon found that a lot of the parents around here are from Dublin. I’ve seen only one woman move back.”
Deirdre Brown recalls that when she arrived here via Connecticut and Maynooth, nine years ago, “there was no playground, a very old swimming pool, no playcentre, nothing you could do with the children but feed the ducks in the pond or go to the library”.
Now, she says, there is the leisure centre and pool, the “lovely” new shopping centre, “brilliant” shows in the theatre, the highly-active book club. “I can’t think of anything I need that isn’t here – apart from proximity to the sea”.
The newcomers have brought all this to the town, adds Dr Gerald White, a local GP: “The youth section of the rugby club has bombed along. As well as the new swimming pool, we have the artificial running tracks and soccer pitches and an excellent gym.” The commute for Deirdre’s husband, Alan, has also improved. Back in 2003, he was leaving home at 5.30 am and getting back at 7.30pm. Now he leaves between 6am and 7am and is home before 7pm. “It takes an hour and 15 minutes to get home at a normal pace. The whole Red Cow area has improved dramatically. When that was finished, it took 20 minutes off his drive,” Deirdre says. “But it’s also true to say, sadly, that Dublin and the roads generally are a lot quieter”.
John Brown (no relation), a true blue Dub born in Grand Canal St, moved from Clondalkin in 1999. A ferry worker then, he was made redundant in 2004, and went to work with Wharton’s Coaches, organising soccer trips to the UK. Now, he and his wife, Donna, have parents and siblings living all around them. “Life is great. The roads are a joy. I haven’t a single negative thing to say about this town, apart from the shortage of school places for my grandson. We’ve prospered big time here. It’s a long way from Grand Canal St,” he laughs.
But of course there are pros and cons, as Jill Foley Tighe points out. She and her husband, Pat, lived in Barbados, Netherlands and London until the arrival of their twins shifted the axis of her fast-moving life at the centre of Dublin media and music circles.
“Everyone thought we were mad moving out – but €250,000 more for a house in Dublin? Portlaoise was nearer to Mallow, where my parents are. If we’d bought in Dublin, I would have had to go back to work in RTÉ to afford it. Time-wise, comfort-wise, stress-wise, this is better”.
The price is Pat’s commute. He is gone from 5.45am to 7pm – a long day for a blow-in with twins. And in truth, Jill misses the buzz of the music industry and the freedom of the city, where she could meet Pat or a friend for lunch, although “it’s such a good road to Dublin now”, she says wistfully.
It’s no surprise that the couple are already planning their next “adventure”. But Portlaoise, she says affectionately, “is as good as anywhere when you want to make a pit-stop like ours”.
The Cyber Sorter column will return next week
