Cobh’s Deck of Cards: Why the Famous View Isn’t Always the Best Photograph

It was my first time visiting the seaside town since before the lockdown began in March 2020 and within moments it became obvious that something had changed since I took my last image. The previously colourful street had lost much of its character with recent colour changes.

From yellow, orange and red — bright, bold colours that clash with the blue and turquoise just a few doors away — to grey, beige and some other indescribable colour; becoming almost identically non-descript.

It’s almost as if the owners hate their homes being photographed so much that they have decided to paint them some horrible colour to discourage the camera-wielding tourists.

It doesn’t seem to work. Even Tourism Ireland are posting images of the Deck of Cards approximately once per month on their social media channels — of course using the older, more colourful versions. As we photographed here, more than ten people arrived with cameras pointed in the direction of the houses and Saint Colman’s; most unaware that their images won’t turn out to be as bright and colourful as the tourist literature suggests.

I think it’s a shame. If you’re going to go to the bother of painting the whole front of your house, on a street of iconic houses, then why choose these colours.

At least the blue house painted their varnished door to a new shade of blue.

The Deck of Cards — 23 houses each built on their own level and painted different colours (albeit many of them now not very interesting or colourful) on a hill known as West View — were built in the 1850s. It is said they resemble cards set together in an upside down V, and that they would come tumbling down like a deck of cards if the bottom one fell.

This is one of those situations that comes up often in photography and rarely gets discussed honestly. An iconic location builds its reputation on images made over years, sometimes decades. The light that made a particular photograph famous may only occur for twenty minutes in the morning in October. The scaffolding goes up. The colours change. The car parks fill in. The image that circulates is not the image waiting for you when you arrive.

So would I go back to photograph the Deck of Cards? Yes — out of curiosity, to see whether the bolder colours return. Would I go out of my way for it right now? Probably not. On a grey day those current colours almost dissolve into the background atmosphere entirely. On a bright day there is still composition to be found, but you are working harder for less.

Why Cobh is still worth photographing

None of that is the end of the story. Cobh itself is one of the more rewarding towns in the south of Ireland to spend time with a camera. The harbour, the Victorian and Edwardian architecture, the narrow streets that climb away from the waterfront, the maritime detail — bollards, painted ironwork, tide-marked stone — and the constant movement of light over the water. Saint Colman’s Cathedral, which dominates the skyline from almost every angle, is genuinely impressive both from a distance and close up.

And the people are among the friendliest you will find anywhere in Ireland, which matters more than it might seem. A town where people are comfortable with cameras is a different experience from one where every lens is treated with suspicion.

Cobh also carries a particular weight of history that the camera can feel even when it cannot quite describe it. The last port of call for the Titanic. The main departure point for millions of Irish emigrants during the Famine and the decades that followed — the town was called Queenstown then, and the name Cobh was restored only after independence. The Lusitania was brought to shore here after it was torpedoed in 1915, twelve miles off the Head of Kinsale. These are not just footnotes; they are in the stones of the place, and they give the harbour and the waterfront a quality that is worth spending time with.