Malahide - Dublin's Secret Seaside Suburb

Ken Asch gets away from Dublin's city centre to explore its historic coastal suburbs.

Let's be clear about this: Malahide chose me. I can't claim to have discovered it on my own.

I had been invited to join a team documenting one of Ireland's most significant buildings, especially the walled gardens adjacent to it. I agreed. And it was very soon evident that the town, its castle and gardens as well as the surrounding region exemplify the notion of a worthy destination that lives, peaceful and largely undiscovered, in the shadow of a celebrated neighbour.

Let's be quite clear about this, too. Size is important. A Viking settlement in the distant past, Malahide is still agreeably small although grown from a population of 67 in 1921 to some 25,000 in the most recent census. It also happens to be the most prosperous community in all Ireland.

Several "cobble-lock" side-streets, traditional shop fronts and wide vistas of greenery maintain a relaxed, oldy-worldy intimacy that is increasingly rare in a country that lately has seen rapid gentrification and a profusion of trendy eating establishments, fashionable architecture and designer labels.

You could do far worse, in other words, than setting your compass for this laid-back town on the coast of the Irish Sea short miles north of Dublin. "Everybody who comes to live here," people invariably told me, "wants to stay."

There are two Malahides, in fact, and both are distinguished by the name Talbot. The first dates back to the 12th century. The Talebois or Talebot - as the name then was variously spelled - had arrived in 1066 with William the Conqueror to claim England for France. Moving on eventually to Ireland, Chevalier Richard built his castle at Malehide in 1185.

The "good stone house and orchards and gardens and many ash trees, and other houses in good repair", is the manner in which Edward IV described it in a patent granted Sir Thomas Talbot in 1486. The superb 605-acre woodland setting remains. Adding an air of silent mystery at the heart of the complex is the well-preserved shell of a Cistercian monastery and graveyard.

Uniquely the property remained the family address until 1976, one of a handful of Irish houses continuously occupied by the same family for more than a few centuries. A private apartment is among the many glorious attributes, its beauty claimed to be unequalled in all Ireland.

Great pity about the treasures! Tax issues having decided the Castle's recent fate, the family sold it to Ireland and auctioned off its furnishings and contents. Most everything went, including irreplaceable works by Dürer and van Dyck as well as James Boswell's archive of private papers. Despite such misfortune, it has become Ireland's most-visited place. And fortunately many of the auctioned items have been recovered

Where blood and gore are concerned, Malahide also has a tale to tell. Cromwell and his unscrupulous agent Miles Corbett are important names in this regard. The latter's ghost - Corbett's ultimate fate was to be hung, drawn and quartered at Tyburn in London - adds a frisson all its own to the brew.

Speaking for myself, I choose the tranquillity of secluded gardens. And magical is the best way of describing Malahide's. Once through the Walled Gardens' sturdy green door I found myself in a special world, not wanting to leave. It is the castle's - arguably all Ireland's - botanical master-piece, very much attributable to the genius of a recent descendent of the Talbot clan, the seventh Baron Malahide. If like mine, therefore, your pleasure, are plants, flowers, and trees, then again Malahide cannot possibly disappoint.

The other Malahide, the modern one of suburban development, yachting marinas and international cuisine, can be traced first to the opening, in 1844, of the railway - "the key to Malahide", Dave, my guide, told me - and latterly the expansion of Dublin's nearby international airport. The land on which track would need to be laid for the then new National Railway was owned by those ubiquitous Talbots. Seeing the potential, they agreed to grant the right of way. It was on condition, however, that trains would stop at the town. Rapid transit (DART) arrived ten years ago at the height of Ireland's ill-fated boom.

People come here, as they have always done, to enjoy the Irish Sea and salty air and a superb sandy beach that can extend 800 metres into the bay at ebb tide. So ideal are the conditions that it is called the Velvet Strand, enjoyed as much for its walks as for the bathing. No matter the time of day I happened to pass by, there was always someone, old and young, walking with an air of brisk purpose.

It was on a stretch of this beach in the early 1930s that history recorded two outstanding aviation achievements. One belonged to Charles Kingsford Smith, the intrepid Aussie aviator and World War I hero, who together with his crew would make the second-ever trans-Atlantic flight east-to-west, landing at Newfoundland (not yet Canada).

Also from here, two years following Smith, 18 August, 1932, the British pilot Jim Mollison took off for New Brunswick (Canada). His particular achievement was that he flew solo and - daunting thought - was the first to do so. A simple monument, fittingly, overlooks the beach where all this happened.

About a mile south of here, the sand and dunes are also responsible for the golf course and links, among Ireland's finest, at Portmarnock. There is much excellent golf on offer hereabouts, but I admit to a preference for Portmarnock's. This is because of its particular history. What amounts to its clubhouse was originally the fine 19th century home of William Jameson, the name symbolising the dynasty of famous distillers.

Of at least equal interest is the fact that two of William's friends, King Edward VII and his wife, Queen Alexandra, came here in 1907 to celebrate the marriage between the Jamesons and Haigs. They unveiled a plaque in the garden to commemorate the event and it may still be seen.

Returning to town, I stopped one final time at Malahide's two important symbols, the castle and railway station. Their presence had assumed a larger significance, in cultural terms, now that I had become better - and happily - acquainted with the wider community.

I'll be back. I'm sure of that.