Somebody once said to me, “you know you could do this yourself.” I didn’t know. It had never occurred to me. Not in a million years. They were talking about Judicial Review. I had tried to find a solicitor and I was bemoaning the fact that there was no interest, to put it mildly. To be fair, it was evident that I wasn’t the type of client most solicitors would rush to take on. And also, I’m sure they had their reservations, given the parties involved. But I had my views. Very strong views. Views about fairness, transparency and accountability. So, I took on board what my friend said and decided to give it a go.

I read what I could at the time. The procedures are complex. It took me a few goes in the Central Office of the High Court to actually manage to lodge the papers in a way that they would accept them; block capitals under the witness’s signature, don’t forget you have to put where it was signed, as well as when. A few trips back and forth. Oh, and you have to stamp it first in the stamp office.

But I got there. It was the last minute, so much so I had to go in to the next court hearing and ask the judge to ‘stop the clock’. That was my first day out in the High Court. I sat in the main Judicial Review court (no 6) on a Tuesday morning, waiting to stand up at the end of proceedings. It was terrifying and I felt like an imposter but thankfully there was a solicitor from Donegal who jumped up before me and I copied what he said to the judge. My voice didn’t seem to belong to me but it came out. And so, it started – my journeys into Dublin’s High Court.

Coming from the north side you have to park near the old fruit market building at Smithfield. Thankfully the hoardings are up and there’s a lot of work going on. It’s finally being restored. But walking along I always had to keep my head down to avoid the dog turds. (I continued to tread carefully once I entered the Four Courts). I not so fondly, referred to the road as ‘Dog Turd Alley’.  Actually, I used a stronger word but I shall resist the temptation here. I have honestly never seen anything like it. However, just to make a liar out of me, when I went back to take a photograph the other day, it seemed to have improved quite a bit. Someone in Dublin City Council (right across the river Liffey), must have finally sent the dog warden over the bridge to the north side. It was badly needed.

The first few trips to the High Court back in 2024 were fascinating. I was entering a different world. As a litigant in person (or LIP—someone who represents themselves), I struggled to decode what the barristers were saying to the judge. It’s a foreign language, with all the legal terms—and as for the procedures. I found myself reading court directions over and over, hoping it would sink in. I was terrified of making a procedural error. Which I did. It was a hiccup with an affidavit. I learned early on that asking for forgiveness was the best policy.

I was out of my depth, of course, on a steep learning curve. I was also acutely aware of how frustrating it can be for professionals to share the court with litigants in person. It is their territory after all. I had searched for advice on how to behave when representing yourself. The funny thing was, most of the advice that came up was aimed at the legal professionals—how to deal with the dreaded LIP. Useful to know all the same.

However, I got through the first important hurdle. I got my leave; my permission to take a Judicial Review case. The other side (the respondent), conceded after that and in the end, it was back to the drawing board – they would reconsider my complaint. But history repeated itself and the following year I was back in the same court again. I wasn’t happy with the new decision. This time I had two cases and a different judge. My husband was there in support. He was my ‘McKenzie friend’. A ‘McKenzie friend’ is the name given to someone, not legally qualified, who can help you in the court by taking notes for you. Generally, a source of moral support, which in my case amounts to the chief supporter, driver, coffee provider and generally having my back. It’s a joint enterprise.

It was a Tuesday in May of 2025 when the gravity of the task and my lack of preparedness became very obvious to me; “Ms Ryan. You need to inform yourself.” The judge’s comments were very direct and I knew she was so right. “I’m giving you one chance. But you need to inform yourself.” These remarks had been preceded by a series of questions that I didn’t handle very well. My pleadings were all over the place and full of arguments about merits of decisions rather than the lawfulness. (Judicial Review concerns itself only with the lawfulness of decisions). My overriding feeling was not of embarrassment, but of sheer relief. Relief that I had been given a chance and that I wasn’t struck out. When we left the court, I assured my ‘McKenzie friend’, that it may not have felt like it, but it was actually a good result.

I had about two weeks to turn the two cases around procedurally, to plead them properly and exhibit everything on affidavit, before serving them on the respondents. These were the most challenging two weeks I’ve had in many years and that’s saying a lot. I had to do a deep dive into the procedure, law, you name it and I didn’t come up for air until it was all done, and with only minutes to spare to the deadline. Not a time I would like to repeat in a hurry.

After that, I properly set about trying to inform myself. I read case after case, which started to become less like Double Dutch the more I read. I also acquired a couple of heavy legal tomes. Having a child in university has its advantages. I like to think that borrowing a couple of books from the university library is in the public interest. That’s how I rationalise it anyway.

When wading through books and articles on Administrative Law, I often think about my friend who said I could do this myself. I should be flattered, but I do wonder what they were thinking. This is hard. It’s not light reading, and I can’t say I have it sussed, but I am a bit better informed now. I’m also very glad I didn’t know what I was getting myself into at the beginning.

The next day out, or ‘appearance’ in the High Court was some months later, in October 2025. I found myself in a new court, the Planning and Environment Court. It’s bumper to bumper in there. Four days beforehand, I was informed that my cases had been transferred from the JR court. There were new practice directions and I was to upload my files on the ‘ShareFile’. This meant figuring out how to OCR (making them searchable) and all that comes with that. Oh Joy. The fact that I was out of the country didn’t help. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately I had brought my laptop. For those few days break, (which I had purposely arranged for immediately after lodging my JR hard copy files in the list room), I was welded to the sofa in the apartment. I was lucky to have a good view of the sun shining on the Atlantic outside the terrace doors. That helped, and the fact that my good friends brought me food. I went out at night putting the ‘ShareFile’ and the days ahead of me out of my mind. That helped too.

So back to the Planning and Environment Court, now on the Monday morning. I was objecting to the transfer. A new judge again. He had my two big files in front of him and he was looking at me quizzically. He picked up one; “So, it says here, 57-year-old mother of five from Holmpatrick, Skerries, in your description. That doesn’t strike me as someone who has prepared Masterplans.” It was a fair point, but I honestly couldn’t think of an alternative description (even though its already out of date!). “Well, maybe you could call me an accidental tourist” was all I could think of in reply. I explained that I had never actually developed anything despite repeated endeavours. In my own mind I didn’t fit the developer title and calling myself a developer would, be a stretch too far, given the circumstances. The Judge convinced me that the Planning and Environment court was the appropriate court for my cases, so I withdrew my objection to the transfers.

There have been other days in court since. My ‘McKenzie friend’ has changed on a couple of occasions with my daughter, Alice, filling in for her father. Some appearances were short and procedural. One of my cases was granted leave without contest. The other case was a different story. Quite the battle with the other side. (Deference is a word I fear when it comes to Judicial Review). But I got the case through, not unscathed, but through to fight another day.

So, now I’ll have to be patient for another year. Because that’s how long it will be before I reach a full hearing for my two cases. I learned this recently in my last outing before another judge. The hearing next year will mean it will be the fifth High Court Judge I will be before. The two cases will continue to “travel together”. (There are commonalities). And there’s plenty to do and learn in the meantime.

The Planning and Environment Court is full to capacity, hence the long lead time. The government are trying to change things with their new regulations and costs caps for the environmental challenges. I can’t help thinking – careful what you wish for. God forbid the court could be full of litigants in person if they push their reforms through. And the environment is worth protecting, don’t you think? Europe certainly does.

For those who have told me on many occasions to move on, I promise I will when the time is right. It’s not right yet. And to be honest these cases are all about trying to move on. I won’t go into any more detail for obvious reasons. I’ll wait and see how it all plays out. I am grateful to my friend for suggesting I could do this myself, despite the uncertainty and challenges the courts bring. I would be annoyed with myself if I didn’t at least try. Besides, uncertainty is familiar territory to us – it has been for a long time.  But I would love to exchange uncertainty for transparency and accountability. Now that would be something.

So, until I manage to find a new description, a new identity. I will sign off now.

Yours etc

Accidental Tourist