209) The Flowing Tide of Lower Abbey Street, D1
Another classic instance of our faulty instincts and misjudgment of a book by its cover. Initially put off by the smoking sentries and militant Cerberus-seeming guard dogs on the door, we forsook this gem in favour of the much lesser charms of Briody's and others. In fact, 'tis a haven of perfect pleasantness, often much frequented by theatrical types – inevitably, considering the presence across the street of the Abbey and the Peacock. Posters of productions past adorn the walls and a former doorman of the theatre, a popular regular, is commemorated in a framed newspaper article – the late and fondly remembered Padraig O'Faolain, nicknamed 'Father Pat', the confidant of many an alcoholic albeit ambitious actor and connoisseur of many an early house.
The stained-glass window is especially radiant in the sun, and depicts the god Neptune complete with trident and mermaid, fitting emblem for the flowing tides (he also lends his name to the pub's WiFi password). The destitute poet Paddy Finnegan (see O'Neill's) was once seen staggering out.
This is a fine example of a traditional Irish pub. Since 1824 this building has been a public house, formerly ‘Denis Haye’s,’ now the Flowing Tide, so called given its closeness to the river Liffey. And nowadays the lengthy Luas slithers by too - The Flowing Ride. There’s a giant picture of a humble pint of Beamish outside on the wall overlooking Abbey Street with a caption: ‘Enjoy a pint of Beamish in the Flowing Tide,’ and a delectable pint it is too at €4.70 a pour (but has increased since Covid-19)! Also unique to the exterior, is a sign in the shape of an oversized bottle of Jameson whiskey that protrudes high up on the corner or Marlborough Street.
On entry one will notice an old circular road sign on the front door: ‘NÁ MOILLTEAR / NO WAITING’ and true to these words the service is swift. Barman Robbie is a solid barkeep (who occasionally doubles in Corrigan’s) and will promptly drop down the drink and scatter along with it a few dancing coins. In addition to the windows, large panels above the front bar are of simulated stained-glass lit by electric light which adds to the room a richness of colour. In the middle section one will find a very modest library and table next to a smaller window. Pictures near here celebrate Irish writers and there’s also homage paid to Bloomsday.
One gets the impression that this pub has seen more actors, writers and artists than any other pub in all of Dublin. The type of talk heard down the years would involve: how Bull McCabe’s ‘you’ll not shame me’ morphs into ‘you’re not Seamie.’ And if the ‘man in the mac’ could be either J.C.M. or Mr. Duffy, & etc.
Bar staff have been known to serve up a dodgy pizza for those in need of some hot soakage. Not in a temper for pizza? Ask for ‘THE DAVE,’ their celebrated meal deal which consists of a pint of The Flowing Tide craft beer and a ham and cheese toastie for only €6.50! The busy smoking area is a peculiar laneway called ‘James’s Walk’ leading into ‘Hillview Lawn,’ respective road signs are affixed to the wall. There are plenty of barrelled tables, high stools and electric heaters for smokers to waft away under the comfort of canopy. A notice warns all patrons to ‘be good or be gone’ we were both, and happily returned and returned and returned.
And while some of the toilet's graffiti can raise a giggle ('This Is Where Napoleon Pulled His Bone Apart'), other specimens raise unsettling I.R.A. implications ('Britain + Brexit = 32'; 'Ireland, Ireland Thirty-Two/Nothing Else is Gonna Do', 'Partition is wrong: Be a Patriot, it's your duty, Everyone has a part to play. A United Ireland Will Be A Stronger Ireland – with part of Ireland unfree, we are all unfree!', etc) [1]. Fun fact – the pub was once complemented by a sister pub down the street, which was euphoniously called 'The Rising Tide', a lovely case of rhyming names, but now since sadly shut and long gone with the wind.
UPDATE AS OF MARCH 2020: The Flowing Tide pub is up for sale to the tune of €2 million Euro. [2] We hope for a smooth transaction and we say to any potential buyer: it’s not broken so don’t fix it, bitch!
UPDATE AS OF JULY 2022: The Flowing Tide, alas, has shut its doors. Rumour is new management will take it over in time - echoing the sentiments of our previous update, please don’t give it too vulgar a facelift!
OVERLY BELATED UPDATE AS OF NOVEMBER 2023: Our advice was heeded. The Flowing Tide has been happily under new management for well over a year by now. The new owner is ‘big on Christmas’ and makes haste to put up the decorations once Halloween is out of the way. The integrity of the place has been blessedly preserved and there is only one (small enough) TV screen near the door. Beamish bonds at a triumphant Five Eighty. One barman takes no nonsense, and has been seen ejecting undesirables with considerable gusto and foulmouthed alacrity. Downstairs sees the Neptune Club, which hums in the later part of the day. Barmaid Alicia is particularly popular and a warm presence. (Says she to a colleague she nicknames ‘Strongman’ - ‘You don’t need the gym, you work in a bar!’) Great to see this place back on the block, it’s a Dublin fixture and true treasure, don’t change it.
Even Neptune blesses Beamish - The Flowing Tide
FOOTNOTES
[1] All of which makes sense, for The Flowing Tide was apparently always an I.R.A. Pub, part owned by Sinn Fein, and was ever a popular meeting place for its members. In the eighties, Dmitri (of O'Connell's fame), was often seen drinking here, but always tippling strictly solo, never seen to converse with anyone.
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