Some Dublin pubs are spoken about in slightly hushed tones, with an air of wonder; when you admit you haven’t been to one of those ‘classics,’ there are frequently two standard responses: ‘ah, you must, it’s wonderful,’ or ‘well, I know it’s a certain type of a place,’ which may sound non-committal, but it conveys much more. And so while I’ve been told again and again that I ‘must go’ to The Lord Edward, also hearing the second line nearly as frequently had made me somewhat apprehensive. On the face of it, this is silly; what could be intimidating about a pub that is clearly beloved by so many? And I hasten to add this isn’t the sort of place that has a clear demographic type that would be genuinely something to avoid; I used to live near a fairly notorious football hooligan pub in London in the 1990s, and while it was my closest watering hole, the fact that I would walk nearly a mile to the Wetherspoons up the road instead should say everything about that.
But after reading Eoghan Walsh’s thoughtful piece the other week, I determined to finally pay The Lord Edward a visit. And while on one hand, I found very much what I expected, there were a few elements that kept me thinking about it for some time after. Both the pub exterior and interior absolutely fit the ‘19th century pub that was last updated in the 1960s‘ aesthetic, and it’s probably true that there are ever-fewer pubs out there that fit this bill, though this is obviously part of what appeals to many. And, indeed, there is some lovely tilework and stained glass, though the scuffed dark wood and tired carpet are a bit less charming – at least, to me. And as a fairly curmudgeonly pub-goer myself, I very much agree that not every pub needs a ‘feature wall’ and stripped wooden floors – going too far in that direction absolutely robs pubs of their character. And not every pub needs to have a craft beer tap – I very much enjoy The Gravediggers and The Hut, which are great spots to simply relax with a Guinness – the option of Beamish as well as Guinness at The Lord Edward is handy, though I was moderately surprised not to see the Guinness 0.0 option as well. I suppose yes, there were some Five Lamps beers, but they’ve never really appealed to me.
But as I sat with my pint of Beamish (yes, I am aware that the Guinness was brewed just a short walk away, I’m just a sucker for Beamish and am glad it seems to be reappearing around town), listening to snatches of conversation here and there, I struggled to put my finger on just what it was about The Lord Edward that made it feel less ‘for me’ than the aforementioned Gravediggers or Hut. Was it simply that it was a bit more run-down inside compared to the other two? Both of those have interiors that feel ‘old’ but well-loved, I thought, so perhaps that was one aspect of it. Was it the entirely male clientele – at least, on this visit? Possibly…though I’ve also had similar crowds at The Boh. What I finally landed on (and it may well be a case of overthinking) was that a combination of the two factors reminded me of pubs with a similar look and atmosphere in the UK, back in the day…albeit with much better Guinness, I expect! My working theory is that men who are (probably) younger than me would have grown up going to pubs of this sort with their dads, uncles, cousins and so forth, and so it may trigger a particular nostalgia, especially as more and more of this type close, update or gentrify. For me, though, I’m reminded of slightly dodgy places in the East End of London that had kept their 1960s carpet as some sort of homage to the Kray Twins…the blokey atmosphere I used to encounter some 25 years ago felt very much in evidence at The Lord Edward. And I would not say this was overt or purposeful, it just…is. And I think that for me, most old-school boozers feel interchangeable with other old-school boozers anywhere in the world, and that they offer less that’s unique or charming, with an individual sense of place, whereas a pub like The Gravediggers is brimming with personality and local character.
And to be clear, not every pub needs to tick all of my very specific boxes…I mean, I’m hardly going to have a perfect Moon Under Water of my own without a cask option, but I can let that slide most of the time. I suppose the key point here is that, in the absence of fond memories, The Lord Edward doesn’t feel like ‘a pub for me’ – and that’s absolutely fine, it obviously has regulars, fans and a busy tourist trade, given its location opposite Christchurch Cathedral – and they love it as is, which is as it should be.
And the cathedral bells, it must be said, do add considerable interest. An English tourist asked the barman whether the constant ringing of bells was ‘just because it’s Sunday.’ After a suitably long pause, the response was short, but complete: ‘No. There’s always a lot of bells.’
So, in summary, there’s much to be said for a proper old-school boozer if that’s your thing; The Lord Edward absolutely fits that bill. Perhaps it’s just waiting to become (or already is) your old school boozer.
Where: The Lord Edward, 23 Christchurch Pl, Wood Quay, Dublin, D08 RK00
Access from the city centre: Buses 27, 77A, 150, 151, 11-ish minute walk
Food: Crisps, theoretical toasties
Sport: Football on at times
TVs: Bar-level TV had news on
Music: No music, but occasional trad sessions upstairs possibly still happening
Family-friendliness: Many more appropriate options in the area
Pub-crawl-ability: High – The Bull & Castle, The Christchurch Inn, The Beer Temple/The Oak are all more or less in one direction, with The Thomas House, Love Tempo, Swift, Arthur’s, Molly’s Bar and other Liberties spots (including a certain Guinness Storehouse and/or Open Gate Brewery) in the other; The Brazen Head is also a short walk away
Haunted: Finally, we have a proper haunted pub: Lord Edward Fitzgerald himself is meant to frequent the building
Local sites of note: Christchurch Cathedral, Dublinia, St Audoen’s Church, Guinness Storehouse, Vicar Street, Olympia Theatre
Other notes: The pub gets slightly odder from a physical perspective as you go up; the toilets are, uh, unique
Socials: Facebook seems largely abandoned
As a general rule, when I’m in this part of town, I head to 
Without getting into the specific behind-the-scenes workings that are, frankly, none of my business, the pub ended up in 
But while it has much less of a ‘craft beer bar’ feel and more of a ‘catering to international tourists’ vibe, there is still a strong lineup of local options, albeit without any from Galway Bay. On our visit, there was some well-kept Ambush, Happy Days, Big Bangin’ and Rustbucket from Trouble, Rascals, Rye River and Kinnegar, respectively; even some Galway Hooker (no relation) appeared, plus a La Chouffe tap for the odd Belgian hit. Obviously there’s Guinness as well, both the real thing and 0.0, and some of your standard lagers as well. And it must be said that it really does feel much less like a locals’ craft beer pub and more like a tourist pub nowadays, though that’s completely understandable, given the location. And on this particular visit, there were many, many North American accents on display (not just mine), and I didn’t have the usual warm-fuzzy feeling from the playlist, which in most pubs I frequent is more ’90s Irish, UK and European tracks – I first moved out of the US in 1995, so haven’t heard any new music From There since then, and I couldn’t identify anything playing without the help of Shazam…it was all American bands I’d never heard of. And to be clear, I’m not saying I’m cool to not take on board New Things, just…old. So, if you’re an American or Canadian younger Millennial or older Gen Z traveller, it will probably get you right in the feels; not everything needs to be just for me, and that’s fine!
This week’s Weirdo Dublin Pub is properly a little bit weird, in the best possible ways; we’re heading back to Stoneybatter for 
But back to the dogs – they are very much catered for here, with their own little snugs and corners, photo wall (there is much to be said for a pet-focused feature wall vs a human-centred ‘Instagram wall’ in a pub) and even a little bed tucked away within some of the seating, for the sleepier or simply more retiring Good Pupper. On my recent visit, all the canine customers were very well-behaved indeed – and the same went for their human counterparts.
I’d been told by a regular that 
But it retains a strong musical tradition, from the instruments in the window to the nightly-ish trad sessions in the main bar, and the wealth of photographs of well-known musicians throughout the pub. While the entrance and front bar are rather small, the pubs winds its way back in slightly eccentric fashion, with a series of not-quite-snugs (you may decide for yourself whether our seating area pictured here, with your own fair author deep under the stairs, counts as a snug) to a cozy back room with another fireplace, as well as a heated outdoor area, which on our visit was rather smoky, as outdoor areas tend to be, but given how central this is, it’s rare to have much of an outdoor offering at all.
We didn’t stay for the session, as it happens, but it did look like it was going to be a good one; plenty of regulars were arriving for it just as we were leaving, which is always a good sign.
Where: J. McNeill’s Pub, 140 Capel St, North City, Dublin, D01 F9R2
And there’s much to be said for an Old Man Pub; there are plenty of friendly regulars (largely, though not entirely, from that specific demographic), quite often a more affordable pint and a some generally comfortable spots to sit and relax. There may not be any craft beer – the closest The Boh gets is with a few broadly-interchangeable Franciscan Well and Open Gate IPAs – but as the vast majority of their patrons are here for the Guinness and Beamish, it’s hardly surprising. First, though, a bit of context.
More properly known as McGeough’s – The Bohemian, and situated on one side of Doyle’s Corner (opposite, er, 
Welcome to the new home for Weirdo Guide to Dublin Pubs! If you’re a regular visitor, you’ll notice we’ve spun off to a new, stand-alone site, just in time for the first anniversary of this series, and we’ll be adding some new features and categories as we go. With that bit of housekeeping out of the way, we’re back to normal service with another Northside pub – 
My perception of The Ivy House before this visit was that is was more restaurant than pub; the larger main section is sleeky and modern – there’s a lot of dark blue – with many booths and tall tables, though there is a fireplace toward the back, albeit a large open and, again, very modern one. It’s less cozy and more efficient, with a large menu suiting most tastes (including my still-rather-picky younger offspring). Indeed, they always seem to be doing a roaring brunch trade at the weekends, and when I’m out and about for a solo pint, I frequently stop at The Cat & Cage, rather than The Ivy House, simply out of habit, but also because on those occasions I’m looking more for a nice spot to sit and relax, rather than go for a full meal.
But as I happened to be in the area and wanted to get inside as soon as possible, I finally stopped in to the Carthy’s Bar side of The Ivy House, and ‘side’ is the key word here – it has an entirely separate entrance around the corner, complete with its own frontage. And, once inside, it’s quite the contrast from the other side of The Ivy House – it’s every bit the old-man-pub, complete with the aforementioned fireplace – not a woodburner, but lovely an warm. On my afternoon visit, there were at least 3 different sports on – possibly one for each person in the pub at that moment – but nothing was too loud or distracting. And as the bar serves both sides of the pub, it’s easy to order one of the local craft options – they always seem to have Hope Hop-on on tap – or a Guinness or Beamish from either spot.