Oh, dear. Yes, we’re sorry – mea culpa, mea maxima culpa, and so on. We know what the reaction is going to be when you reach down to the end of this article and realise that your own favourite old Irish pub isn’t included. It isn’t you, it’s me, as Lily Allen once said, and so it really boils down to personal taste.
The questions, of course, are these: what do you want from an Irish pub that you won’t find outside Ireland? And what constitutes authenticity? The former has to include a tangible atmosphere that isn’t stage-Irish yet remains true to its origins.
The latter has to include a structure that seeps history and legacy but isn’t the Zoolander version of derelict. Capturing all of this and presenting it to both native and visitor in a way that isn’t insulting to the former or condescending to the latter isn’t easy, but we reckon our selected pubs have that blend. Could we have selected ten more? Easy. Twenty more? Easy-peasy. Over to you.
If you think The Stag’s Head is a beaut of an old bar, wait until you see The Long Hall. For over 130 years, it has hosted as many solitary book readers as it has alcohol imbibers, yet via its mirrors, mahogany and gold leaf carvings, the softly ticking clock behind the bar, and the bar staff (which have been refreshed occasionally through the decades), the pub remains one of the best places in Ireland to meet, greet, leave and return to. Warmth and nostalgia have never been sensed so firmly here – this place is, quite simply, amazing.
There are some Irish pubs that look as if the past 50 years hasn’t impacted upon them one iota. Callanan’s belongs to that rare batch of what you could safely describe as pubs that time (almost) forgot. You can safely guess that the pages of home decorating magazines have not been flicked through here – the tables remain a bit wobbly, there are hints of hair oil in the air, and there is – thank the Lord – no television intruding on the conversation. Fancy a game of cards and rings, or the challenge of ‘How Many People Can You Fit Into The Tiny Snug?’ You’ll find all of that here.
The pub’s official name is John Kavanagh’s, but locals have known this pub on the north side of Dublin as ‘The Gravediggers’ for over eight generations (the Kavanagh family has overseen the pub since 1833). There are two sides to the establishment: while the lounge has its eyes firmly fixed on the future (with its superb gastro-pub fare), the public bar is simply a history lesson. Unusually for a pub, it has the distinction of banning music and singing – in 1984, after the funeral of singer Luke Kelly, the likes of U2, The Chieftains, and members of The Dubliners walked in, with instruments in hand, only to be informed that the pub was for drinking in, and nothing else.
People of a certain age will remember driving past Morrissey’s whilst driving the pre-motorway road between Dublin-Cork-Dublin. Back then, you might have even paid your respects to the establishment. Now, it’s virtually a local pub again, but you’d still be strongly advised to take a detour from the motorway to experience it. As for its treasure trove of nooks, crannies, snugs, and long-gone, fondly remembered grocery memorabilia – they have to be seen to be believed.
Tony Clayton-Lea is a freelance pop culture/travel writer. His primary aim when traveling is to avoid obvious tourist traps, to make sure an intriguing laneway never goes undiscovered, and to unearth the perfect place for people watching.
Stay up-to-date with Tony’s writing by visiting his website, tonyclaytonlea.com.