Degrees of separation in D6
There is an educational apartheid separating the suburbs of Dublin, writes David McWilliams.
There’s something about Dublin 6. Don’t you think?
For years, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
It was a strange sensation. What was it? Was it the solid redbricks, the good taste, the drop-in Pilates classes, the sensitively old Volvos, or maybe the Gonzaga waiting list? Could it have been the credit book at Mortons, the bicycles with child seats, the discriminating baristas, discreetly tattooed, or maybe the...
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