I am rather loathed to write about this place, as I would like it to remain a well kept secret. I therefore refuse to give any further directions to the said establishment.
The pub is a true 'local' with a varied choice on the pumps of Guinness, Guinness or Guinness. The main room of the pub features wooden floor, an assortment of seating and a grand collection of photographs of local characters and sporting teams. Each one haphazardly hung in it's own non-matching frame.
The cash till consists of a very high-tech device : a wooden drawer. All rounds of drinks seem to even out at 10, 20, or 30 euro. Change is therefore a simple affair.
The room to the front still has the appearance of a general shop, but much of it has been tied up since I last visited. I swear there were still items left on the shelves with a best before date in the 1950's.
What really makes the place (as all good Irish pubs are made) is the 'craic'. Bring along an instument and the singing and chat may well go onto the small hours.
A place left alone by the modern world, and the breweries, and time, and the Guarda !
I celebrated the new year of 2004/2005 in this unholy cesspit. Don't ask why, it's quite complicated story and involves mythical Brazilian lap-dancers.
This pub, if situated in London would probably be referred to a 'designer dingy', but here it's just a crap pub. The toliets in particular have to be smelt to be believed. Tiling in a pissoir like this comes with it's own visible health warning.
They had a re-fit a few years back which involved repainting the place the same dismal colour it was before. To be fair the classy arrangement of broken mirror glass arranged on the wall in the manner of crazy paving was removed.
On the plus side they serve Guinness and you can always be sure of a seat.
Dress Code: Do me a favour !
The table quiz is held regularly - I think on a thursday night.
Don't expect it to be a level playing field though. Some friends of mine claim that they were doing very well one night until they were stumped by this question :
"What is the number plate of the Priest's new Car?" .
What you might call something of a parochial question ! Most tables got the right answer - which says alot about the place.