256) Glen of Aherlow (Donoghue's) of Emmet Road, Inchicore, D8
Taking its name from the valley in Tipperary this fantastic pub sits inserted betwixt residential houses. The striking stone façade of Donoghue’s, better known as the Glen of Aherlow, lovingly called ‘The Glen,’ stands out. It has the feel of being a quaint country pub in the heart of the Hibernian Metropolis. But don’t be fooled - this sizeable pub boasts FIVE separate areas to park the fanny. One can choose to hide in the snug, the bar, the lounge, the conservatory or in the beer garden.
On entry to the lounge one may either take a left into the snug or immediately descend a steep flight of steps into partial darkness owing to a complete lack of windows to lend light. (This descent mirrors the topography of the Inchicore / Kilmainham area with its many peeks and troughs all throughout the uneven land). Down in the lounge is long and narrow, a veritable fabricated valley where the ambiance is venerable and unhurried. At the back of the lounge one finally can see the stars owing to the conservatory area which gives way to the beer garden.
The snug is roomy with its own mini bar, and 4 tables. The bar boasts some interesting artworks and a stuffed animal which could be an ibex. The toilets in the bar are for MEN ONLY, when women need to take a shit (or snort a line), they have to take their sweet little asses out to the lounge. Ha! What a throwback. Tipplers Tip: the pub is circular! Walk from the lounge into the snug which leads into the bar, which leads to the men’s toilets which has another door leading all the way back into the lounge. FACT.
Visit 1: The large exterior sign to the side of the pub shows an old horse and cart with a delivery man rolling a big barrel of Beamish. And one may bury a Beamish if so desired. However, we visited one summer’s day and took a pair of Guinness. They were easily in the top five best pints of Guinness in the Capital. Delicious and toothsome, like nature’s milk it nurtured and nourished. We remained for a few more unplanned pints out of sheer respect for the stuff. Donoghue’s, the Gem of Aherlow.
Left to right: Rory Gallagher, ??, Bang Bang, Richard Harris as Bull McCabe, Luke Kelly. Bottom: Brendan Behan, Phil Lynott. Visit 2: It’s 2023 and alas, no more Beamish sign outside or barrels inside either. We were happy enough to take up a Guinness owing to our previous experience. Sadly, the pub is on the market to be sold for the guts of 1 million Euro [1] and we were eager to experience it (it being a traditional, unchanged institution) one more time before some fuckwit buys it and transmogrifies it to yet another crafty 0.0 pizza place. We were met with a very friendly barlady who served us with alacrity and gave us a warm welcome.
All was well, until an older, somber barman waddled on the scene and extinguished any light that glimmered on the glen. The feeling of impending closure was palpable and he gave an air of no longer giving even the slightest of fucks. We asked him a question about the history of the place to engage in a bit of conversation while our pints were settling, his response? “Huh? I don’t know, I have no clue whatsoever. I just come here and pull the pints. I have no interest in any history at all. Sorry.”
Well that shut us up instanter. Needless to say, we didn’t renew our pints and got the hell out instanter. He may have shined in earlier times but the pub is on a life-support machine, and so is he. So in the end, so long The Glen! May your new buyers heed our call: by all means get rid of the barman, but please, LEAVE THIS PUB EXACTLY AS IT IS.
Nectar for Hector
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