Galway is some town to walk through in the fog on an early spring morning. In the low cloud, every old stone building is framed by fog and given an air of mystery and history. But as I crossed the Eglinton Canal by the Cathedral, I was struck by the one lonely building standing guard on the corner; Ward’s. A fine establishment, on the go since 1931. 93 years of providing for students, with Johnny Ward being honoured with an honorary masters degree in 2002 for his services to student-kind (including giving cash
strapped students free cigarettes).
And after all that, the fog revealed a small sign giving thanks for people’s custom and saying goodbye. I had only discovered Ward’s late in my first year in Galway, and had already fallen in love with their gluten-free wraps and rolls. Their food was so alluring that I almost missed my first lecture shout-out as I campaigned for the Union due to sitting outside the shop eating a tuna melt. My memories and Galway’s memories will be fond, but I can’t help but notice that other businesses are in a similar pinch around town.
Pálás has become a cause célèbre in recent times but it represents a wider dilemma in Galway between funding and rates. During my usual commute past other Galway stalwarts, like the Galway Baking Company (GBC) or Food4Thought, I remember the two stickers proudly guarding their doors; Keep the 9% VAT and Build the Gluas.
The first point referred to the reduction in VAT for the hospitality sector during Covid-19, which was controversially restored to 13.5% in Sept 2023, putting increased strain on businesses yet again. The second sticker is shunned by some as ridiculous; with chortled laughter about the madness of building light rail in Galway. For one thing, we used to have a tram from Ceannt Station to Salthill in the 1910s until it was torn up by the council in the 20th century. Secondly, the City Council have already spent €56 million on offices in Crown Square (and those costs could rise closer to €100 million when the dust settles), without consulting the staff of the city council, with a loan that was approved in only 3 days.
Galway Council has the money to invest in projects but as costs continue to rise, it looks like the council has been penny wise and pound foolish. In order to cover these rising costs, the Council has raised commercial rates by 6% (with a 15% raise being threatened previously) in their 2025 budget. Higher rates and overspending on new offices. As the Mary Wallopers say, what a hell of a mixture.
And that leaves us with Pálás. I can’t but recognise the chaotic history of the theatre, the twenty years odyssey that got us to this point, the €19 million spent and the land given to the project by the council. The practical sustainability man in me also notes that there is legitimate differences between the place being for profit and being financially sustainable, which Pálás was never able to accomplish.
And yet, the joyous tone with which Cllr. Cheevers recently suggested levelling the theatre to build housing is particularly pathetic (and ironic, seeing how this is the most interested in housing I’ve seen a Fianna Fáiller in Galway since the Races Tent). This is the same Fianna Fáil that wants to get rid of Rental Pressure Zones during a Housing Crisis, for instance. So if this council is bad for business, bad for culture and bad for housing; the question must be put, what are they actually good for?
Pálás represents an indomitable spirit of expression and exposure, and the love for the place was palpable in the protests leading up to its closure. Any councillor that wants to call Pálás a waste of money should look within their own council before trying to make a pariah out of Pálás.
Even though Pálás is gone for now, with a fight ongoing, I can still return to my walk on a cold, clear night in January. A night when I walked back from Pálás after watching arguably the cosiest film of the century, The Holdovers, in fantastic company. The grainy film, with flecks of distortion like embers from an eternal, artistic fire, brought warmth to a cold evening. And as I walk towards Flood Street, and see that great concrete monument with blazing red letters, I return to happy times and hopes that better days will come. We cannot let Ward’s or Pálás go quietly into the night.
Let us fight the good fight.
