I’m the opposite to a party animal. I like my pubs quiet and serving a perfect pint. But nearly seven years ago I recalled a cracking night in Cork.
Down at the fag-end of Cork city’s docks there’s a nondescript bar. Go in there most times and you’ll find it devoid of customers, atmosphere, anything. Just a wooden floor and some cheap chairs and tables. You drink your pint, read your paper and head off elsewhere. Yet venture in at weekends and you could be in a different time and place. Venture in on the Saturday night of a long (public holiday) weekend and you wouldn’t want to go anywhere else for your kicks. It’s busy getting on for 10 and good music is playing. You go in because you’re thirsty, Charlie’s Bar back down the road was impossibly noisy and packed and anyway this is the last bar out this way.
There are several barmen busy behind the small bar so you get served quickly enough once you manage to squeeze in at the counter…
View original post 140 more words