From wartime heroics to cultural landmarks, the Irish have left an indelible mark on this corner of London.
Our Lady of Hal church on Arlington Road stands as a testament to the enduring faith of Camden’s Irish population.
Founded in 1934 by the Missionary Brothers of Scheutt, it replaced a humble hut once used by Belgian refugees after the First World War. By the 1950s, it had become a spiritual home for Irish worshippers.
After Sunday Mass, Irish labourers gathered on the traffic island by Camden High Street and Camden Road, dressed in their Sunday best. Local cab drivers nicknamed the spot ‘Penguin Island’ for the navvies’ distinctive attire.
Here, they shared stories of the weekend craic, discussed which pubs to visit, and exchanged news of work.
Each morning, men seeking casual labour would line up opposite Camden Town tube station, waiting for vans to collect them.
Known as ‘the Lump’, this was work outside the tax and National Insurance systems, highlighting the insecurity of their employment.
At day’s end, many found shelter in hostels such as Arlington House, immortalised in Madness’s song One Better Day with the line “Arlington House, address no fixed abode”.
These lodgings supported working men of all backgrounds and, for some, represented a hopeful stepping stone toward better prospects. Sadly, not all managed to move on.
Weekends brought a lively social scene.
Irish men frequented dancehalls such as the Buffalo – now the Electric Ballroom – after visiting pubs like the Good Mixer and the Dublin Castle, as the dancehalls did not serve alcohol.
The famous Cement Mixer above the street sign remains a nod to this era.
Inside the dancehalls, men would invite ‘wallflowers’ to dance; one client even met his future wife this way.
The Electric Ballroom saw its share of drama, from a riot sparked by a band refusing an encore to a bizarre incident involving a piano. In the 1980s, Sir Bob Geldof helped oppose council plans to convert the venue into offices.
Since the 1820s, the Dublin Castle has been a cultural beacon for Irish navvies who came to Britain to build canals and railways.
In the 1970s, landlord Alo Conlon transformed the pub by hosting ska, rock, and, in the 1990s, Britpop acts. The venue became a launchpad for new talent, welcoming artists such as Amy Winehouse, Blur, and Coldplay, and drawing music scouts searching for the next big name.
In October 1988, my Uncle Paddy faced a remarkable scene as two unmanned locomotives rolled down from Cricklewood in ‘County Kilburn’ overnight. His handling of the incident became a highlight celebrated at his retirement party.
My grandfather, Pops, was also a proud contributor to the community, playing a key role during the Second World War while working in the docks at Glasgow to support London’s war effort.
Koko – formerly the BBC Camden Theatre – is another meaningful stop on the tour, visited as a tribute to Spike Milligan. The full story, however, is reserved for those who join the walk.
Beyond building canals, railways, roads, and houses, running pubs, and bringing the craic, the Irish have helped turn Camden Market into a cultural destination attracting almost 30 million visitors each year.
Their legacy is woven into the very fabric of Camden.
