It was one of those wholesome, heart-warming moments. The type of thing that could have done numbers on TikTok or Instagram, or wherever things do numbers these days, if anyone had been bothered to film it. First of all, the setting was perfect – it was the Christmastime of the year; literally just a day or three to go – and the pub was all aglow with pine and twinkly lights and all the rest. Secondly, the occupancy was just right—lightly packed. No spare seats, but still enough room to manoeuvre, and ample space to stow away the proverbial Christmas shopping bags.
And it was the shopping bags that were crucial, because it was one of these that someone retrieved him from – with tags dangling and in all his golden glory, his owner displayed him with great reverence to the rest of his companions. And going by his companions’ faces, they all shared similar reverence for the life-sized replica lion cub – Simba, from The Lion King®™© (please don’t sue me, Disney), that the man had retrieved from the branded bag that sat on the bench next to him.
And that would all be very pleasant and fine in itself, but it was what happened next that I wanted to speak to you about today. It was when another punter, at another table, saw all of this and began to belt those time-honoured words at the top of her lungs:
NAAAAAAAAAANTS INGONYAMA BAGITHI BAAAABA!
Possible that it would have been better to have typed that out phonetically, but suffice it to say that this woman basically co-opted an entire packed Christmas pub into a full sing-along of Elton John’s Circle of Life, the Theme Song from Disney’s 1994 Classic – The Lion King.
If I hadn’t been overcome with the magic of the moment myself, I might have spent longer looking at the man who had bought the gift. The poor fella, he could only look on with a nervous trepidation that the half smile on his face did nothing to hide, as his stuffed toy was relinquished from his grasp and crowd-surfed across the packed pub. Thankfully, the toy would come back to him unscathed, but not before the pub’s sturdiest-looking stool was recast as Pride Rock and the toy triumphantly raised aloft to the cheers and hollers of the masses as they went for one last chorus of the song, mimicking the opening scene of the movie. The staff had even copped what was going on and put the actual song on the jukebox.
So all in all, as wholesome a moment as you could ask for in a pub at that time of the year. Especially so, given one of this particular pub’s recent incarnations – something another man was certainly aware of. I heard him, as I was making my way to the toilet after the whole Simba affair, and he says to his friend: That’s not the first time a growler was put on show in this pub.
And the man, beautiful linguist and all as he was, was absolutely correct – prior to being Meagher’s, and a short-lived Indian Restaurant, the pub was called The Garden of Eden and was one of Dublin’s handful of purveyors of lapdancing and associated services. Yours truly never did darken its door during these years; however, Pintman#REDACTED had the pleasure once and gave it the following six-word review: Penneys Knickers and Caesarean Section Scars.
The building re-opened as a pub in 2022, having been acquired by the owners of the River Bar, the nearby pub in O’Connell Bridge House, across the river. It underwent extensive renovation and a faux-Victorian fitout was installed: replete with decorative wallpaper and a snug to the front of the pub. A beautiful mosaic tile runs underfoot, and the walls are decorated with historical images and adverts, lots of which don’t appear to be the same, usual ones that you tend to encounter everywhere else, time and time again. This was also the first pub I’ve come across with a cabinet of supposed whiskey bottles, all affixed with historical labels of brands, some still in existence and some since confined to the ages. I’ve come across the same bottles in other pubs, since and have considered buying an inkjet printer, an extra-large box of teabags and a few Pritt sticks and seeing if I can monetise the empty bottles I’m throwing out down at the bottle bank every other month.
The drinks offering is mostly comprised of the familiar macros, and the Guinness has been pretty decent on all of our visits, most recently hitting the pocket for €7 even in early to mid-2025. There’s also a full food offering, and there’s a good-looking function room downstairs that you can gaze into and think about booking when on your way to the Jaxx.
So, while we’ll admit to being a bit distracted by some other nearby pubs, and not getting in all that often, we’re happy to have Meagher’s as a good pinting option in the Eden Quay district. And to those who are sad to no longer have the option of bare breasts or tikka masala on the premises, we can only assure them that the building’s future is never a certainty and that these options may come back around in that great Circle of Life.