I Don't Fancy His Much

Dublin (or more specifically, Temple Bar) on a Satdee night has changed a little since I was last privvy to the Grinness-fueled fest. Stag and hen night swarms, mainly the latter, from the likes of Southport, Guilford, and Burnley dressed in cliched themes (the nurses; the prom queens; the hockey team (ughhhhh...); and of course, the cheerleaders) drunkenly stagger from pub to pub getting progressively more bladdered, louder, and more disheviled (in that order). The bride or groom to be is identified by a particuarly fetching/embarrassing piece of headgear or visible underwear and most groups wear labels to let you know who each of them are, sort of ala Spice Girls parlance: "Pouty Girl"; "Bouncy Belinda"; "Sam the Swallower"; "The Short Fat Ugly One"; etc. What's interesting is the mixture of responses to the whole event within each group: the obvious ring-leader who's idea it was, all loud, in-yer-face exhuberant, flip-top-head; the 'nahahhahhahhahhha" I don't fancy yours much couple of revellers that have tagged along happily, but would be doing the same in Cleethorpes on a Saturday night anyway, only in slightly less (only slightly, mind) ridiculous clothing; the lone "doing-this-only-cus-it's-me-mate", "hate people staring at me in this St. Trinian's Uniform 'cus it shows off my enormous thighs", not-quite-into-it tagger on; and the pre-bride herself, normally wearing a drunker, more detached serenity, happily being shepherded by the gals around her, and taking whatever henious hazing is coming her way from her chosen gaggle. It is actually fun & interesting to see all this spilling onto and out of the streets of Dublin, but it's not summat you'd want on the doorstep (particurly when the later, multicoloured alcopop vomm starts to flow...)

Two places to find refuge include the Stag's Head, still a paragon of Grinness drinking, tucked seedily away down a seedy alley in a seedy corner off of Dame Street where the pint is as stout as it gets and the clientelle mixed and relaxed under the brass and stained glass. Always a pub I try and slink through while in town.



The other is the Brazen Head, a nice hike down the Liffey on Bridge Street. Not what it once was in terms of small-town welcome or atmosphere, but it claims to be the oldest tavern in Dublin and just has a great staging inn look to it. Worth a look at least once.