The high walls

THIS IS weird. This doesn’t feel right. I’m stood beside the gates that form the only breach in the massive stone wall, looking through at the ‘airlock’ system of inner and outer perimeters, retelling the story of the most notorious escape.

My companion, a fellow journalist who I brought along in case the security staff got shirty (they didn’t) shares a similar interest in the building and its function. He too thinks it is fascinating and worthy of talking about.

Twice cars indicate that they want to come in. I step back and let the two guards open the gate, eyeballing me with no apparent sign of annoyance. I let the cars go through – I’m not interested in photographing staff; this isn’t some exposé. All I can think about is that I’m surprised the gate is manually operated. The inner one appears to be automatic.

Inside, the grounds appear pleasant and well-kept. I’m minded of Dr Veringer’s hospital in the film version of Raymond Chandler’s the Long Goodbye. Philip Marlowe could get into places when he had to… I’m still silently rueing the fact that the Health Service Executive and clinical director both declined my request to enter. After all, it is a public hospital and my interest is not in writing some absurd horror story, something I tried to explain countless times. I could probably have forced the issue, started issuing countless freedom of information requests and making a nuisance of myself. I didn’t.

My camera is not up to the job – it’s just a phone-cam. Still, the pictures are only needed for context. Time to go.

Click here to read JASON WALSH’S reportage on the Central Mental Hospital