Ever since he moved to Charlotte Quay, Stephen’s been dying to explore Boland’s Flour Mills. While I’m fond of the faded paint, the old brickwork, and the blue window-frames and doors, he loves the huge, reinforced concrete structure. The view from our wall’o'glass front window looks out along Barrow St, and the Mill is a major part of that landscape - he’s been looking at the broken and the left-wide-open windows for months, and wondering what it would be like to explore inside.
When he first moved, there was construction work ongoing, on the bridge you see in the photo above. One night, the Gardai were swarming around Boland’s Mill, clearly looking for someone or something very interesting - we spent at least an hour or so, on and off, watching the goings-on, and Stephen’s desire to explore was only further fired up!
Once the construction on the bridge was finished, most of the fencing and hoarding which had been around the Ringsend Road boundary of the Mill was removed - leaving the big steel gates on Barrow St as the only physical “keep out”. So I decided to see what I could do to get us past those, bearing in mind the invisible social “keep out”s that can’t be simply scrambled over!
The culmination of those efforts was a wonderful guided tour this afternoon, led by the civil engineer responsible for the site. When mum heard we were going, she had to come along - and when Stephen sent a mail to let his colleagues know he wouldn’t be in the office in the afternoon, Euan joined us too! The buildings on the site are currently all derelict, but building work has been halted because of conservation issues. Talking to the engineer, it seems like a pity, because it sounds like they’ve got some really nice plans for the place.
The tour itself was fantastic - we started off in the remains of what used to be Number 1 Barrow Street (it’s now #33), an old Georgian house. It’s been almost entirely gutted, and you can see where the house beside it was just “tacked on” (it was originally a detached house, and later became “semi-detached”!) It wasn’t long before we proceeded to a reinforced concrete building, just behind the one at the centre of the photo above. The scale of the building, and its contents, is hard to convey - photos will follow in a while, but they really can’t do it justice. Many of the old hoppers are still present, and you can see them all the way down the many storeys of the building.
The highlight of that building was the tour of the roof. Getting out proved mildly challenging - we went up the tower, and Roy, the engineer, tried to open the door onto the roof (of a part of the building slightly below the top of the tower) He couldn’t get it open at all initially, and even when he remembered that it slid (instead of swinging) open, it seemed jammed. Stephen stuck his head out the window to see what the matter was - and found the mortal remains of a small mammal, with its skull jammed in the door. He proceeded to climb out the window, and disengage it (with the help of a plank of wood, possibly an erstwhile component of the door, that Roy passed out to him).
Once we were out on the roof, Stephen & I climbed to the very top of the tower. Mum, Euan and Roy stayed on the main part of the roof, a little below us. The views of Dublin were just awesome, from both vantage points, and even the person who didn’t like heights much seemed to enjoy it! Mum left us at that stage, as she had a tennis match to play. The boys and I continued, across a rickety-feeling metal-mesh ‘bridge’ between the tower we’d come up and the main part of the building. Once again, we climbed up to the top, and enjoyed some amazing views of the city. Roy figured out where his office was, and we identified several other landmarks from literally miles around.
After heading back down, we toured the two older buildings on the site, and saw some of the oldest, wooden hoppers. Their construction was something awesome - again, photos to follow. Despite having no foundations, the buildings are completely structurally sound (except for one part, where some Bozo with a digger pulled down a lean-to, and took some important parts of the adjoining building with it - but even that’s been propped up to an almost-safe standard ;)). What was most amazing was to see the basements, below water level, but dry as a bone. (Literally. Pigeon carcasses abounded.)
It’s a beautiful complex - austere and industrial in parts, but nonetheless with an amazing atmosphere. You really get a sense that each of these buildings could tell some fantastic stories - from the metre-plus walls bombed by the British, to the “Special Bitter” labels stuck on the inside of the roof of one of the old buildings. Layers of paint, lives lived out. I’m really glad that someone has plans for these buildings, particularly the older ones - that they won’t just lie derelict - and that some of the history contained within their walls will be preserved. Even if it’s only for structural purposes (from an engineering point of view, much of the structure - walls, beams, girders - will have to be retained), it’s heartening to know.
), the people are great, and the work is intense but satisfying.