A Place for Every Kind of Evening

You may find a pub restaurant, a pub with nothing but a bar and a few stools, or the particular Irish marvel of a pub that also serves as a petrol station, general store, and hardware shop all under one roof. Yet for all their differences, they share something essential: good hospitality, a warm welcome, and the promise of craic — that uniquely Irish mix of conversation, laughter, music and simply having a good time — especially if you are lucky enough to fall into conversation with a local or the person behind the bar.

Character in the Truest Sense

Irish pubs have character in the truest sense. Memorabilia covers the walls — antiques hang from the ceilings, historical photographs line the shelves, Guinness posters from every decade share space with currency from around the world, patches from first responders, and instruments that have clearly been played rather than displayed. Each of these details is a thread in a living history, and simply by being there, you become part of it.

Many older pubs also have snugs — small, semi-private wooden booths or partitioned alcoves set apart from the main bar, a tradition dating back centuries when they offered a discreet place to drink away from the public room. At the Crown Bar in Belfast we sat in a snug for the first time, tucked into one of its ornately carved wooden booths with stained glass glowing around us, and understood immediately why the tradition had endured for so long.

The Well-Known and the Quietly Beloved

There are, of course, the well-known names. The Brazen Head in Dublin, with its long history, and Johnnie Fox's, known as Ireland's highest pub, each have their own claim to fame. But some of our most memorable evenings have been spent in pubs with no notoriety at all. Family-run and passed from generation to generation, they carry a quality that is genuinely difficult to put into words. It is as though they let you in on a family secret — a tradition that has nothing to do with tourism and everything to do with who they are.

When the Music Starts

If you are fortunate enough to be there on a night when traditional Irish music is being played, that feeling deepens considerably. There is something about Irish music in a pub that is not contrived, not done for tourists, but for the love of the craft and the love of playing alongside other like-minded musicians. An Irish music session is something very special to witness.

We found that at Matt the Miller's in Kilkenny. On the evening we were there, two gentlemen were playing in the corner. They were there to play for the pub, but it never felt like a performance put on for tourists. They were simply part of the evening, playing together in the dim light, entirely themselves.

One song stopped us in our tracks. It was a hauntingly beautiful air about lost love, the kind that seems to carry centuries of feeling in it. We never learned its name, and even now we couldn't tell you what it was called, but we have never quite forgotten it. Nobody announced it. Nobody performed it at us. It simply happened, and we were lucky enough to be there.

A Few That Have Stayed With Us

Over the years we have visited well over 50 pubs across Ireland, and between them they have offered us everything: good food — sometimes beautifully simple, sometimes genuinely gourmet — Guinness that somehow tastes different in Ireland, warm peat fires in the colder months, lively evenings and quiet ones. The beauty is that you get to choose.

Kavanagh's in Glasnevin welcomed us in on a rainy afternoon — Kieran, the owner, finding us a table early for lunch, the toasties and coddle exactly right, the Guinness exactly right.

In Leenane, we stepped into Hamilton's Bar and discovered that wonderfully Irish arrangement: petrol station, general store, hardware shop, and a traditional pub all under one roof. It was our first experience of anything like it, and one we still talk about.

At the Crown Bar in Belfast, a beautiful Victorian gin palace now protected by the National Trust, we sat in a snug for the first time — tucked into one of its ornately carved wooden booths, with stained glass glowing around us — and understood immediately why the tradition had endured for so long.

And then there was an evening in Letterfrack at Veldon's Seafarer with a warm fire, a cold pint, the company of family and strangers alike and an Irish music session.

There are many more pubs that come to mind just as readily.