Lots of The Quiet Man memorabilia on the walls (John Wayne, Maureen O'Hara, Barry Fitzgerald etcetera ad infinitum), prompting one to wonder if one or other of the owners had not some sort of family connection with the production. Beamish is €3.80, most welcome. Besides The Quiet Man detritus (the walls are chock-a-block and eye candy is plentiful, encouraging one to loiter and linger), one may also discern shrines to Mohammed Ali, David Attenborough, Katie Taylor and Frank Sinatra (a copy of the Kitty Kelly biography His Way proudly occupies a windowsill). A statue of two drunken monks each holding a sign offers profound wisdom. The first monk’s sign reads: ‘Love thy enemy,’ the second: ‘Drink is thy enemy.’ Beamish is also celebrated by way of two cartoon panels, perhaps done by some Beano-inspired local talent, depicting a man attempting to swim to France and availing of the services of Beamish to do so (Panel One: Swimmer with pint on head says to seal: Beamish gives you strength to swim the channel! Seal says: Are we there yet, Pat? Panel Two: Same man now installed on Beamish train says: Does this count as swimmin' the channel?). 

The lounge is multileveled, with an upstairs and downstairs section that are likely often booked for parties. A friendly barwoman once told us that the big red boxing glove encased in the lounge belonged to the aforementioned Katie Taylor. The crowded walls swim with an eclectic set of images, among them Laurel and Hardy, Marilyn Monroe, Arnold Schwartzenegger as The Terminator, Marlon Brando in The Godfather, Sigourney Weaver in Aliens, John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever and Pulp Fiction, etc, etc. A local legend once accosted us at the bar and talked unintelligibly and a tad aggressively to us; behind his back, his chuckling compatriots made 'loony' signs at us, and silently suggested we ignore him. Another regular, dolefully nursing a single Smithwicks, belonged to Dublin's standing army of impressively bearded 'Captain Shotover' types – this one was clad in denim, with the air of an aged hippie. 

All in all, Baker’s is a decent establishment, but the one fly in the ointment is not minor: a certain bespectacled and baldy bollocks of a barman, who radiates hatred and antipathy through his flashing lenses, casting repeated surly grimaces at whoever's in his field of vision, only cracking a fleeting sour smile when joking with a regular. One may not be sure he has heard an interloper's order, since he gives not the slightest indication of having done so – when your pints arrive at last, it is with a sensation of surprise, not of the pleasant kind. One is inclined to thank him over-effusively upon payment, in order to rub in the fact that our over-politeness is in glaring contrast to his total lack of it. Service with a smile? More like a snarl.

Sorrowful Update: Alas, Bakers fell a victim to Covid-19 in 2020. R.I.P. With the exception of the above-mentioned baldy bollox of a barman, we’ll miss this old ship and its economic and very toothsome Beamish stout.

ENDNOTE: As of September 2021 Bakers is now Dudley’s Bar & Lounge, named for Thomas Dudley AKA ‘Bang Bang’ one of Dublin’s many famous characters. The pub has been stripped of all its old charm and it now stands sterile and bleached. With its emphasis on fast food and overpriced craft beers, it’s very much geared towards Millennials and Generation-XYZ ETC. Bang Bang haunted the Coombe in his day back in the 50s and this title is an agreeable dedication given it’s pride of place in the heart of the Liberties. But it’s no Baker’s. Hop into the Clock if you’re thirsty on this stretch of street.

UPDATE AS OF AUGUST 2024: To speak of ‘Endnotes’ is always premature, especially in a work like this whose contours are always shifting as our targets keep on moving, evolving and morphing just like the universe expands. The recently designated Dudleys is now redeemed, to these biased and blinkered Publopedian eyes, by the fact that it serves a perfectly palatable pint of BEAMISH draught stout for SIX EUROS. There may be cheaper places, but at least it’s a clean round figure, the same price as Swift’s west up the road, and the Lord Edward the other way up the road. And the above ‘Endnote’ deserves its own ‘Footnote’ - the hallowed aforementioned Clock has now turned into LoveTempo - another Beamish bonder. The dark days of the Liberties being dry are very much over, and a sign of the blessed beverage’s increasing leverage and welcome comeback tour…

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