There are two good times to tour Dublin - St Patrick’s Day and summer. Dublin, and in fact all of Ireland, is renowned for being grey and dreary but this is made up for by cheery people and a colourful history.

I was fortunate enough to spend a weekend in Dublin just before St Patrick’s Day this year. Unfortunately, it wasn’t summer, so my friends and I spent most of our time trudging through the city in our warmest coats, carrying our largest umbrellas.

We started where all tours of Dublin naturally start, on the city’s main street, which was named after the Irish Liberator, Daniel O’Connell. O’Connell Street is wide and bustling and dotted with monuments to Irish historical and mythical figures. Our walk started at the impressive 390 foot Dublin Spire. Lean back and watch it sway, if you dare. We followed this down the road, past the bullet-riddled General Post Office – site of the 1916 Easter Uprising – and on past the statue of Daniel O’Connell himself. At this point, we met the River Liffey, which old Dubliners are said to have called the Wiffey Liffey or the Sniffey Liffey at times. We found the Liffey to be green and odour free as we walked along the riverside promenade, before crossing the Ha’Penny Bridge. This charming cast iron bridge is so called because pedestrians were once charged a half penny toll to cross it. These days there is no toll and you can freely stroll across to the other side and pass through Merchants Arch and into the fabled Temple Bar area.

The Temple Bar area is the cultural heart of Dublin, packed with art galleries, exhibition areas, boutique clothing stores, tattoo parlours, record shops, restaurants and pubs. In good weather there are street performers and buskers. We walked the cobbled medieval streets by day but night is when this area really comes alive.

After getting our fill of Temple Bar, we headed to Grafton Street for some retail therapy and when we couldn’t feel our noses anymore, stopped in at the famous Bewley’s Coffee Shop for a hot tea and pastries.

Following our walking tour of the city, we spent time deciding what to do next – a tour of Trinity College and a look at one of Ireland’s national treasures, the Book of Kells, a tour of Kilmainham Gaol for better insight into Ireland’s political history, or a tour of the Guinness factory. The large majority of visitors to Dublin end up at the Guinness Storehouse which runs tours through the factory each day, and ends with a free pint. But as we were soaked through by this time, we headed home for a hot shower and a change of clothes.

Good planning on our part meant that we would be in Dublin for the biggest festival on the Irish calendar – St Patrick’s Day. As we were staying with friends just outside the city, we had to be up early and off to the train station in order to make it to town in time to get a good view. The train was busier than I’d seen it in the preceding days and every person was clothed in green, with bright green accessories – from hats to scarves and wobbly antennae.

When we reached town we joined the stream of similarly dressed people on our way to O’Connell Street. The only shops that were open at this point were the ones selling last-minute St Patrick’s Day paraphernalia and they were doing brisk business. We decided to give in to the mood and also get kitted out, Irish style. We bought sunglasses, hats, jerseys and antennae in luminous shades of green and then headed for towards the main street, which was already thronging with people. It turned out getting there over an hour early was still too late. Parents and grandparents with kids on shoulders and in buggies had already made their way right up to the barricade. Agile youngsters climbed statues, street lamps and telephone booths to get a good view. A few experienced St Patrick’s Day attendees had brought stepladders and small boxes to stand on. And then the long wait…

The weather in Dublin can turn in an instant. The day had started off with full sun but as we waited for the parade to begin, it quickly turned overcast and chilly. We bought cups of hot coffee from a corner shop to keep warm while we waited. And that was when we started to hear cheers in the distance. A young boy sitting astride his father’s shoulders started to give us running commentary “They’re coming! There’s a band! And people dancing. They’re juggling fire!!!” His running commentary and growing excitement quickly infected everyone around us. People started to stand on their toes, crane their necks, and stick out their digital cameras in the hopes of at least getting a digital glimpse.

Then, with music and cheers and flashes of color, light and fire, the parade started. First there was Saint Patrick himself, like a jolly, green Santa, shaking hands and kissing babies. Then there were marching bands - five or six of them from different places - policemen on horses, large paper maché puppets, metallic, moving sculptures, huge floating balloons, motorised floats, people in costume, dancing people, fire blowing people, and people on stilts. It was a case of sensory overload!

Two hours later, with the parade over, the throngs moved off towards the coffee shops, restaurants, and pubs which were now open, welcoming the frosty and worn out attendees. The children by this time were worn out and half asleep but for the adults in the city, the party had just begun.

 Words: Faranaaz Parker
Photographs: Faranaaz Parker

About the author: Faranaaz is a technical writer from Cape Town who's taken a leave of absence to gallivant around the world with her husband. Her favourite destination is Barcelona.