Where the sea meets the city
THERE’S always something magical and exotic about a port. When I was a small boy living in Hobart, Tasmania (like Cork, a port city), I would spend hours on summer days hanging around the docks. All the streets seemed to run naturally down to the water.
The water was always a partially glimpsed flat gleam between buildings or the silver-grey end stop to a street, so it was natural to gravitate to the water on hot lazy days.