Recently I had to spend most of a Saturday in the practice, getting up-to-date with paperwork and finalising my CPD portfolio, including this year’s audit. After a long morning at the computer, I decided to go for a mind-clearing stroll around my practice area. A brief walk around that part of the south inner-city, the Liberties, can be very revealing. 

I write this from abroad and there is a certain nostalgia as I recall that bitterly cold Dublin day as I look over my terrace to a deep blue Ionian Sea. My view is southwards along the steep west coast of Kefalonia and this is the start of the first two week holiday we have taken for four years. The practice is in good hands and it is time to forget it all (except for that cold and windy Saturday). 

It is curious how, having worked in an area for several decades, there are many buildings, details and features which I had either ignored or simply not bothered to examine.

My first few yards brought me to old St Catherine’s Church (which now has a very socially active inner city congregation) in front of which poor Robert Emmet was hung and beheaded. Local myth suggests that his head rolled down Bridgefoot Street Hill which faces the church and leads down to the river. It is here that many of my patients now live in a small estate named after the patriot. I turned left and headed up towards Guinness’s James’s Gate Brewery. I crossed the road and walked past two undertakers premises and examined a plaque attached to the front of one: ‘Headquarters of the Irish Volleyball Association’, it read! A funeral parlour and undertakers was very evident but no sight nor sign was there in the building of any sports people or their coaches. 

Having visited my local bank ATM opposite the main brewery gate, I walked back towards Christchurch. My route took me by the old Powers’ whiskey distillery, on my left, which is now the very vibrant National College of Art and Design (NCAD), well worth a visit when the students’ exhibition is on. Then I stopped and admired St John’s Church, an Augustinian place of worship in the style of the French Gothic revival. It has a magnificent stained glass window and I have attended the funerals of patients there over the years; never realising until that Saturday (thanks to Google), that the church is built on an old Augustinian site, St John’s Hospital, which had given succour to the sick and poor since the 12th century. 

My thoughts were temporarily broken by several trotting horses, each drawing a light carriage or landau (there were four in a convoy) carrying tourists who had probably just finished a tour of the brewery. Their drivers were well known to me. High stepping, well groomed and in very good condition, the horses cut an admirable and stylish sight.

I decided to cross the road again and found myself on the crowded southside of Thomas Street where the age-old tradition of outdoor dealing was in full swing. Most of the stallholders were known to me and there was a brisk trade in clothing, confectionary, household goods and gossip. Several brief (unofficial) consultations took place as I moved along as briskly as I could. Unfortunately, inebriation in the avowedly abstinent was observed on more than one patch of this thronged footpath. 

Still not ready to have a sandwich or coffee and return to my desk, I found myself ducking down the lane to Vicar Street and hence to Carman’s Hall. Sauntering along Carman’s Hall, I again heard the sound of hooves, this time only four. A young man of my acquaintance in a bright red jacket was galloping bareback along the street on a frisky pony. Flying tail and mane and the boy’s legs all over the place without stirrups; a joyful sight on a grey day.

Turning left again onto Vicar Street and then left again to Francis Street, I was passing the Tivoli Theatre when I saw a gentleman who had long attended me with severe arthritis and who usually crawled into my consulting room almost on all fours, in pain and misery. He was walking two vigorous young, white dogs. These were powerful animals and it was a wonder to see him sprinting along behind them with a spring in each step and his feet hardly touching the ground. He did not see me and has not called for his repeat prescription since...I wonder what I will say when he does? 

I did eventually get back to base and I did file my eportfolio and write some medico-legal reports. As mentioned above, I have even managed to get away on holiday.

As the sun sets and the sound of Greek voices mingles with the light splashing of waves beneath the terrace, there is delight and joy at being away in warmth and good company on a beautiful island. But this seems all the better for the thought of what a rich and interesting environment awaits when I return to work!