The Fear after The Lagoona: Navigating Wrong Turns, Lost Shoes, and Late DARTs in Dublin.
Pubs
In stoic defiance, they stand before me with their arms folded and their serious faces downcast. One of them repeats what the other has already said – but this time in a different phrasing:
Look, it’s not happening tonight pal.…
The Foggy Dew, And Why Oliver Cromwell is Responsible for Dublin’s Best Sunday Gig
Pubs
Packed into the pub corner, the sweaty milieu are assembled with little regard for personal space. In various mixes of pork pie hats, belts, braces, polo, checkered and gingham shirts - they shake the foundations with their Doc Marten stomps.…
Overheard at the King’s Inn: Creamy Pints and a Glimpse into the World of Petty Crime.
Pubs
Upon the cobblestone streets built over basement dwellings which once made up the quarters of the lowest of the pauper class, Dubliners can still hear the clipping and the clopping of expensive leather as it makes its way up Henrietta Street.
In…
The Battle for The Cobblestone Pub: Revisited
Blog
Back in 2014, the inimitable and ground-breaking Dublin folk discombobulaters, Lankum, in their song Cold Old Fire prophetically sang of how they:
look for signs that Dublin's heart's still beating,That concrete and glass and peelers and…
Kenny’s Pub and why Ireland’s First Taoiseach Probably Liked Elvis
Pubs
Standing and sitting all around him, they gaze ahead, unemotionally, and in glib expectation of a continuance of the mediocrity that has so far graced the stage on this cold winter's night. He has no light show, no backing band, and no bejewelled…