If the Martians arrived in Galway tomorrow morning, wandered down Shop Street and into the city centre, they might be forgiven for wondering what exactly had happened here.
They would see a beautiful medieval city, extraordinary buildings, the Spanish Arch, the river, the bay and streets that should have a retail life as distinctive as Galway itself.
And then they would look at the shops.
Vapes. Trainers. Phones. Souvenirs. Aran sweaters. More vapes. More trainers. More phones. Businesses designed almost entirely around the visitor rather than the person who lives here.
We have cafes that stop serving in mid afternoons...when we shoukld be dkoing all we can to lure people in to stay.
The Martians might reasonably ask: where is the choice?That is the uncomfortable question Galway needs to start asking.
Because while our attention has been elsewhere — on logos, squirrels, porridge, trees, statues and the endless arguments that accompany the changing face of the city — the everyday retail offering has been quietly becoming more uniform.
This is not an argument against tourists. Tourism is enormously important to Galway. Nor is it an argument against any particular business. Every shop is entitled to trade, and every successful business is responding to demand.
But a city is more than its footfall statistics.
A city centre should have curiosity. Discovery. Independent retailers. Places you cannot find everywhere else. Shops that make people linger, browse and come back. It should serve the people who live here as well as those who arrive for a weekend.
And increasingly, Galway risks looking like a collection of commercial templates rather than a distinctive city.
The irony is that there is now significant evidence of demand for something better. Galway City Council received 44 applications for this year’s Shopfront Enhancement Scheme, seeking almost €600,000 in support. Thirty-eight businesses across the city centre, West End and Salthill are sharing €275,000 to improve façades, signage, accessibility, windows and streetscapes.
That is welcome.
But perhaps we need to ask whether we are treating the symptom rather than the disease.
A beautiful shopfront is still only a beautiful shopfront if what lies behind it adds to the life of the city.
Look at what is happening elsewhere. Limerick has been developing a more varied retail offer, while Athlone has shown how a smaller urban centre can continue to attract a broad mix of retail, hospitality and experiences. Galway should not be copying either. But we should certainly be asking what they are doing that we are not.
Because the question is not simply whether our streets look tired. It is whether our retail city is losing its imagination.
We talk constantly about Galway’s ambition to be Ireland’s third city. That ambition cannot be measured only in population figures, office developments, cranes or major infrastructure projects.
It is also measured at eye level.
What do people see when they walk down the street? What can they buy? What can they discover? What makes them say: I’ve never seen that before?
The shopfront grants are a start. Better façades matter. Good signage matters. Heritage matters. But Galway needs a wider conversation about what kind of retail city it wants to become.
Because if our eyes remain fixed on everything except the changing streetscape beneath them, we may eventually look up and discover that the city has become somewhere that looks increasingly like everywhere else.
And perhaps that is what the Martians would find most mystifying of all.
We have one of the most distinctive cities in Ireland.
Why are we allowing its retail heart to become so ordinary?
