Big bar bills are pricing us out of our own city

Paris, London, New York, Sydney, Rome, Barcelona. — they are all cheaper than Dublin, writes Sophie Donaldson

With its booming tech sector and burgeoning foodie scene, Dublin is often framed as a vibrant, dynamic city that attracts twenty- and thirty-something workers with cash to burn. And boy, does that cash burn — as though it’s been left steeping in a mug of kerosene overnight.

“Two gin and tonics, and a pint of IPA, please.” Voom.

Last week, I spent seven days in Cyprus. As you read this, I am in Lisbon for the weekend. In March, we escaped the madness of Dublin on St Patrick’s Day and spent four days in Madrid. Over the summer I was in Venice, and in a month I’ll be in London. The one thing that these places all have in common? They are a hell of a lot cheaper to socialise in than Dublin.

By socialise, I, of course, mean socially drink.

And if you think that I’m some sort of independently wealthy socialite, you are dead wrong. All those trips were done on the cheap with flights at rock-bottom prices and bargain accommodation. It meant a weekend in a European city was nearly as cheap as staying in Dublin and hitting the town for two nights.

And, yes, I know that fretting about the cost of going out is the ultimate first world problem but the truth is that Dublin is pricing itself out of the market as a go-to European destination. Remember visitors also have to deal with our eye-watering room rates.

For somebody in their midto-late 20s who actually lives here and for whom Coppers is out of the question and a nice bottle of red at home does not hold much appeal, cheap and cheerful places to eat and drink in Dublin are few and far between. In Paris, you can dine in authentic bistros, eating quality steak frites or moules mariniere with a bottle of very decent wine, not to mention some priceless people-watching, for what you would pay for two drinks and a burger in a trendy Dublin pub. Hell, they even do happy hour in Paris, during which all the Parisians sit around in a very civilised manner drinking €4 mojitos.

There is no such equivalent in Dublin after the practice of offering alcohol for a reduced price for a limited time was made illegal here 15 years ago.

The argument that banishing happy hour helps curb binge drinking is totally nullified with a stroll through Temple Bar at 2am on a Sunday, or along Dame Lane on Friday at 8pm. It is quite clear that those who drink to get drunk are not deterred by pricey pints.

But this is not about finding somewhere where we can imbibe with drunken abandon. It is about having a spectrum of establishments that make the act of socialising over a glass of something to drink not a prohibitive experience. After six years in this great city, I’m still searching for that one great place that does house wine for a fiver a glass and whose carpet doesn’t smell like a pet store; the place you can confidently bring pals who are visiting without them wincing when they see the drinks menu; a place where you don’t have to swap city centre location, convivial atmosphere or even maybe a nice view in order to have a few rounds for less than 50 quid.

Without these places, the result is that we stay in and drink at home, where it’s far easier to drink a lot more. Our bars and casual eateries get less money, and the social fabric of the place becomes a lot less textured.

You will find myriad establishments in New York, London, Sydney, Rome and Barcelona that offer affordable drinks that aren’t bright blue and served in a shot glass.

Dublin is an anomaly among other cities; it is small and charming like Manchester and Florence yet far more costly. It is a capital, like London and Paris, yet lacks the same big city opportunities despite being even more expensive to live in.

I love Dublin. Yet it is becoming increasingly difficult to show it some love, when going out and enjoying its famed social scene means depleting our savings account. We know city centre rates are incredibly expensive, that overheads all add up and rents are soaring. It’s understandable that as the economy has picked up, so too has the bar tab. At some point between the proliferation of those dreaded watered-down brunch cocktails that are a waste of perfectly fine prosecco and the opening of a Dublin outpost of London’s most famous restaurant, it was decided that drinks are simply a lot dearer here.

As somebody who goes out, ahem, quite a bit, I’ve seen this in action. Last year, we happened upon a new eatery/ bar that offered our favourite aperitif for around €7.50. Within six months, the price had increased by around €4, to around €11.50. It is unlikely that the rent increased accordingly in such a short space of time; I’d wager they had a look at the neighbourhood price list and realised they were selling themselves short.

In the wake of recent events that have highlighted the dire housing situation in our capital city this diatribe against overpriced booze might seem hideously tone deaf, but it comes down to the same thing. It’s about being able to live in this city, rather than simply exist in it.