Dublin in a new light on bike hike

IN TRANSIT: WHAT’S THE best way to see the sights of Dublin? Hop-on, hop-off tour? Viking Splash tour? Literary pub crawl? They…

IN TRANSIT:WHAT'S THE best way to see the sights of Dublin? Hop-on, hop-off tour? Viking Splash tour? Literary pub crawl? They're all great ways of getting to know the city but here's an obvious one you may not have thought of: bicycle.

When brothers Ronan and Ciaran Ganter started up Dublin by Bike tours two months ago, they found they were the only company offering guided tours of the capital on two wheels.

Anyone who’s tried to navigate this city and avoid getting sidewinded by a hassled car driver, pulled under an HGV or walked into by a heedless pedestrian would probably not be surprised. Cycling in Dublin has been considered only marginally less dangerous than crocodile wrangling or volcano abseiling – your average tourist would probably not enjoy the thrills and spills of dodging the city centre traffic.

But times have changed, says Ciaran Ganter who, with Ronan, leads a group of cyclists on a two-and-a-half hour circuit of Dublin twice a day, and gets them back to the starting point – the Mansion House – in one piece.

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“The new Dublin Bike initiative has been great for cyclists. Drivers have become more aware of cyclists and are more considerate of them. Dublin is becoming a bike city.”

The new 30kph speed limit in the city centre, though unpopular with drivers, is an added boon for Dublin’s pedal pushers. As long as the limit is observed, cyclists can feel safer on the city streets. The Ganters believe that the new speed limit will transform Dublin into a cyclist- and pedestrian-friendly city.

The pair have plenty of experience leading tour groups – they’ve been in the tourism business for 20 years, and also run a chauffeur service, catering for golfers and businesspeople.

So it’s with a sense of reassurance (and a little shame at my previous rants against the speed limit) that I put on my cycle helmet and saddle up for a Saturday afternoon tour of the town I think I know so well.

Ciaran is leading this group while Ronan leads a coastal tour that goes from Sandymount to Dalkey. Also on the tour are two Swedish girls, Lena and Ida, who have been living in Dublin for the past few years. The tour can cater for up to 15 people, says Ciaran, and they have a small number of child-sized bikes. They supply helmets, ponchos for the rain, and, of course, bikes.

The bikes are comfy, upright yokes, designed for sitting up straight and observing all around you. There’s a basket in front for your bits and bobs; it contains a free, small bottle of water.

We’re doing the “Hidden Dublin” tour, which will bring us along the Grand Canal, down by the new Aviva Stadium, across the Samuel Beckett Bridge and up past the Jeanie Johnson and the famine memorial.

Not that much of it is hidden; it’s been there in front of me all along – I just never got round to noticing it.

It’s been raining all day, but as we set off down Leeson Street, the skies clear and the sun beats down; within the first half hour I’ve guzzled my entire water ration, and am seriously considering an unscheduled stop at a Spar for a two-litre barrel. It’s funny: when you’re playing the tourist in your own town, you look with different eyes. Shops, bus stops, Dart stations, ATMs and all the other landmarks of my daily life have become invisible to me; I’m gazing wide-eyed at Georgian doors, a statue of a horse by the canal, a cluster of red rods sticking out of the ground in front of the Grand Canal Theatre (they represent the barge poles that were used to herd the inmates of the leper hospital that once stood there). And I’m absolutely agog at Dublin’s newest sight: the Aviva stadium at Lansdowne Road.

“I could talk for an hour about rugby,” warns Ciaran, as we stop in Havelock Square to admire the new structure.

We stop at the statue of Patrick Kavanagh but none of us can recite any of his poetry. We have better luck at Oscar Wilde – we can all reel off one or two of his epigrams. Luckily, when we arrive at Windmill Lane, no one bursts into a rendition of Where The Streets Have No Name.

There’s one hairy moment as we head up Sandwith Street to cross Pearse Street; the cycle lane bends right to the centre of the road, and you can hear the left-turning motorists beeping impatiently behind you as you change lanes.

The cycle itself is not too demanding: all flat with plenty of stops along the route. Although I learned a lot about my home town, and found Ciaran an entertaining and knowledgable guide, I’d have been happy with just a little less chat and a lot more cycling. But for a leisurely, entertaining, refreshing and informative two and a half hours in Dublin, this is well worth the €22.

  • To book, visit dublinbybike.ie