It’s not about the beer. Although there will, of course, be beer. It’s not about the food either, though chances are you will consume something hearty. And it’s not even about the venue, despite the charm of those dark-wood fittings and the long bar polished smooth by a million thirsty elbows.
An Irish pub – a proper Irish pub, in Ireland, filled with Irish people – is all about one thing: the craic.
The craic is a beautifully nebulous concept, a word with a million meanings, something like “mate” in the Australian vernacular. (“Mate? Maaate.”) You can enjoy the craic. You can ask how the craic is. You, your good self, can be great craic.
The craic is fun. It’s good times. It’s banter with witty individuals. It’s pints of thick, black beer drunk with friends. It’s things that go a little awry, that get slightly out of hand, that cause you to wake up the next morning not entirely sure you did the right thing but convinced it was a good idea anyway.
And that is the art of the Irish pub: to find good craic. To have a good time.
Fortunately, it’s not difficult. Ireland is filled with pubs, everywhere from its busiest city streets to its quietest country lanes, and in all of these you are highly likely to find good craic.
What you want to look for is somewhere old, somewhere with a bit of crumble to it. Don’t wander into a neon-lit cocktail bar. Don’t find yourself somewhere trendy with small-batch craft beer. You want traditional, relaxed, friendly.
I’m thinking somewhere like Smyth’s of Ranelagh, a no-frills pub in Dublin where the crowd is happy and the drinks are cheap. Or maybe Sin e in Cork City, an absolute classic where pints have been pulled and locals have gathered since 1889. Or Foxy John’s in Dingle, part pub, part hardware store, all character.
Pubs like these function as proxy loungerooms for the local populace – they’re places people come to relax, to have dinner and a pint and chat to strangers and play pool and maybe watch some TV. They’re music venues too, where people bring their instruments and strike up a tune.
Perhaps the best thing about any Irish pub, in Ireland, is the organic nature of all of these activities, of the craic, the fact it can’t be planned or intentionally created. You just have to sit back and let it happen.
Or, even better, you have to make it happen.
Chat to strangers – they’ll be up for some banter. Listen to the music, even if every song starts to sound the same. Order another pint or a whisky. Make bad decisions. Go with the flow.
Enjoy the craic.
