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“I remember having my mind blown seeing boys walking down the beach in Irish football jerseys,” says Luke McCaul, a Dublin-born hairdresser and drag queen who moved to the beachside Sydney suburb of Coogee to work 15 years ago.
“Like, ‘what the fuck are they doing?’ Gaelic football jerseys – in Australia!”
“County” Coogee, as it’s become popularly known, hosts one of the largest Irish populations in Australia. In the most recent census, 19.5% of its residents claimed Irish heritage. When McCaul describes “going down Coogee Bay Road and all you hear is bloody Irish accents”, he’s not joking.
It also tracks with my own experience. Both my daughters were born at the nearby Prince of Wales hospital, where almost every midwife hailed from Belfast, Galway or Derry. When we officially moved to Coogee last year, their new daycare educators had exciting names like Siobhan, Gillian and Niamh.
So why here? Coogee is not the only beach in Sydney’s east, nor is it the most affordable, and yet the four-leafed clover takeover is undeniable. Along with its porous neighbouring suburb of Randwick, Coogee boasts an astounding array of proudly Irish entities: multiple themed bars with Guinness on tap, Jamesons and “trad” music nights; two fully fledged rugby teams; spice bag takeaway joints; and dedicated supermarkets selling everything from curry sauce to black and white puddings.
These build on a migration story going back to the mid-1800s, where poor Irish settlers fleeing famine founded “Irishtown” close to where the Ritz cinema (and Irish Crown Square Supermarket) is today; making use of an area that had historically been cheap and undesirable to the local population.
“After the [2008] recession, Australia really opened the door to the Irish, and it’s something that people from my age group will understand,” says County Mayo-born Patrick McTigue, co-owner of Shea’s, an Irish bar and restaurant which has already become something of an institution in its four years of operation. (He also runs a construction recruitment company. Zero guesses as to where most of his “lads” are from.)
With its distinctive red door and flag-flying of Celtic culture, Shea’s certainly stands out from the upmarket cafes and bakeries on its tree-lined street. It’s also frequently full, especially for its Sunday roast, where Irish transplants queue for up to an hour to get a taste of home. “People like that cosy Irish vibe,” McTigue says. “There’s a lot of super pubs with pokies and stuff like that here, but when the Irish come over, they’re just missing home, you know what I mean?”
Fostering that sense of home and community is one of the defining features of the County Coogee diaspora. “We were always told ‘Oh, the neighbour’s cousin up the road lives in Coogee’, or, you know, ‘Your great uncle has a nephew who lives in Bondi’,” McCaul says. “So when we came here, you would message everybody and be like, ‘Oh hey, do you want to meet up for coffee?’ and then immediately you’re introduced to this circle of people.”
Sorcha Treston, who recruits rugby players for South Coogee’s Irish RFC agrees. “Through the club we’ve had countless lifelong friendships created, relationships started that have gone on to be Sydney Irish weddings,” she says. The club now boasts three men’s sides and a women’s team with nearly 30 members. “Players regularly refer friends who are moving to Sydney and encourage them to get in touch. Likewise, when players return home, they share their experience and keep that link alive”.
McCaul says Coogee, with its proximity to hospitals, schools and endless construction projects of Sydney’s east (not to mention its stunning beach), is a natural home for the Irish. “We’re very industrious – we always have been – because we have this huge history of emigration. We’ve always realised that when we get somewhere we have to work very hard to get what we want. So we immediately apply whatever kind of education or trade we have. Hence why so many Irish tradies, nurses and teachers.”
Like McCaul, McTigue’s networks are largely defined by his countryfolk. “It’s how I landed my first job,” he says. “I read the landline off the back of a guy’s shirt at The Tea Gardens [in Bondi Junction], rang it and he was an Irish guy.”
McCaul admits that he had noble dreams of “loads of Aussie friends” but now “at least 70% of my friends are Irish, and the majority I met over here”. It’s a similar story for his clientele, with McCaul so in-demand he’s effectively closed his books.
Irish RFC actively promotes the fact that membership comes with fringe benefits beyond exercise. “Between our members and our sponsors, there’s strong support for players looking for work or professional connections,” says Treston, who also manages Irish RFC’s social media. “That network is one of the club’s greatest strengths.”
Coogee’s inherited Irish influence is now spreading outwards. Spice bags, with their hangover busting mix of deep fried ingredients and east-Asian flavours, have become viral hits. Foodie influencers show up everywhere from Jimmy’s down the road from Shea’s to Paddy Chans in nearby Kensington, eager for their fix. “For me, Irish cuisine is probably the least exciting cuisine on the planet, simply because I was reared with it,” McCaul says. “But there is a niche.”
Similarly, McTigue has had TikTokers arrive just to rate his Guinness, a drink whose in-built mythology surely rivals Lord of the Rings. Despite the folk-legend that the beer tastes better the closer to its Dublin brewery you get, McTigue says proudly: “One of them has come in and said it’s the best pint they’ve had.”
If there’s one thing the denizens of County Coogee can agree on, it’s that even though they can’t imagine living anywhere else, they remain fiercely proud of where they come from. “Coogee Beach is class,” McTigue says. “But we made an agreement, myself and my wife, years ago. We have to go back once a year, take our son.”
McCaul even extends his roots to his drag performances, which he brands in honour of his home. “I do a huge festival called St Patrick’s Gay, where we take over a big nightclub in the city and run this big St Patrick’s Day festival,” he says. “Oh, you must come!”
