Just off of Grafton Street on Anne Street, you'll find this pub. Here's what I wrote in my journal about it:
"The bar is dim and the wood is worn. I ordered a pint (that's all you have to say in Ireland: I'll have a pint- and the bartender knows you mean Guinness). The beer was good- cold and smooth with a frothy top that feels thick and sweet, though that can't be true. There were nooks and crannies all over the place. A tiny little room just when you walk in that should be for one or two, but is intended for four or five. I walked upstairs and noticed that the stairs were carpeted as if to cover up the unnevennes or rottenness of the wood. The wood felt damp and soft and it was a somehow cozy and uneasy feeling as I walked up. I finished my pint upstairs and began talking with a girl who goes to Trinity."