Original subtitles

(peaceful clarinet music)

- At the same doors he opened.

And we'll start another day.

Very good.

Oh, yeah Murphy's here now, found out.

No problem at all, boy, thanks John.

Thanks, thanks.

There's a snug there, on this side.

And there's a snug on that side.

And these snugs, in the olden times,

were used for ladies to drink in

and as well as match making.

- And the fathers of the bride to be

or the groom to be would come in

and sort out what the dowry was going to be.

Could be a little bit of money

and it could like a hen or a sheep

or something, as well.

- The people getting married weren't in there at all.

Just the fathers and the mothers went in there

and they discussed the deeds.

In every pub in Dingle I'd say there are old

marriage arrangements wrote down in every pub.

And they made out a document and it was

signed by both people that there'd be so much

money involved in it.

Yeah, and you know there was money

involved in every match.

- And my aunt, who would be in her nineties now,

she remembers it actually going on.

And she said that you would stay around outside

and if the match went ahead, there would be

a celebration, and you might get a biscuit or an apple,

not a glass of champagne.

- Well, there was no seating at the counter.

There was no stools up until the '50s.

Well, maybe in the cities all right,

but not in, down in the towns.

And it wasn't etiquette for a lady

to stand at the bar and have a drink.

It was looked, frowned on.

So they were put, see, that's what these snugs,

the lady went in, and the-

- [Voiceover] The lady and gentleman.

- His, or husband and wife went into the snug,

or else into the lounge.

But never at the bar until the end of the '50s,

and then they were allowed.

- Ladies kind of didn't, of course it was

terrible discrimination when you think about it,

but if a man came in with his wife,

like, she went to the snug, and she might

have her little sherry.

And he might be at the bar, you know?

That's the way it was in those times.

You know, and go back to the start of the century.

But, ah yeah there's a lot of famous characters

drank in there down through the years.

Macallan's now is, I believe I would

have heard stories when I was very young,

and was a regular in there.

- And people love to come in and have

a conversation about some serious matter,

and just close the little shutters off,

and have it.

And that's what the snugs, and the seats

are so narrow you sat up straight in it, as well.

There was no crouching.

- There was a president of Ireland, actually, was asked to,

by Dick Spring, he was a politician,

and John Rogers, he was senior counsel,

they got together in there

with Mary Robinson one evening.

They asked her would she run for president.

So there's a little plaque in there

to commemorate that.

- [Voiceover] And she ended up president.

- Yeah, would you like some snuff?

(peaceful clarinet music)

- Mornin'.

Hi, Percy.

- [Voiceover] How are you?

- I'm not too bad at all.

And here, it's always been

an important place for horse trading.

I remember when I was young, I was only 15 or 16,

there was a lot of pretty successful horses

around here at the time

and there's a lot of bets pulled off.

Good luck!

So I remember walking in there one day

and there was a man there.

He was the brother of a very famous trader.

And it was the day before one of the big

classic settings, the Derby, or the Guineas, in England.

And unsuspecting, I walked in to the middle

of a group of men, expecting to get them

another drink, and he had a load of envelopes.

And everybody stopped, everybody looked.

I kind of looked at Fonsie.

Fonsie looked at me, go away for a few minutes.

Right, sorry.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- It's unusual, we've a pub on one side

and we have a grocery on the other side.

We have petrol pumps just here to my left.

Funeral home further down.

So we're trying to cater for everything.

It's an old traditional pub,

and that's the way we run ours.

We have the grocery on one side.

We wouldn't be making a big profit

on the side now where the grocery is,

but we still are selling as much ham today

as we were 20 years ago.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- [Voiceover] We're a shop really, you could say.

We're a convenience-

- I suppose, as all rural business,

you know, country business started off,

you're a shop, general merchant, I think,

the old term in our general store.

And you have your bar is one building.

We have a grocery hardware,

a food market hardware, adjacent to this-

- So a jack of all trades, and master of none.

- And we do undertaking, which would be

synonymous with the bar, with the bar business.

- We're also undertakers, and have been

for five generations, as well.

So I'm the current undertaker in town.

(peaceful clarinet music)

This is the parish priest, Tom Breen.

(speaking Gaelic)

- And we've got a parisher system going.

He gets a lot of money in the church,

and I have to get a lot of change.

So he brings the change in to me,

I give him cash.

We cut out the middleman.

The banks don't like it.

- We, I don't get an awful lot of money

in the church, but they're very good to me, really.

- He does actually get an awful lot

of money in the church.

His chauffeur's outside, waiting for him.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- This pub is one of the most unique pubs in Dingle.

It's definitely, there's a lot of history to it.

It has never changed in any way inside,

in the premises itself and outside is the same.

And I try to keep everything the same as it was.

That's one of my traditions, myself.

Keep things as they were.

There's enough of things changing in the world.

The whole world has changed, the whole of Dingle

is changing, which is ruining it.

And we'll try to keep it the same as it was, myself.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- All I've heard from people that come in here

is oh, don't change, don't change it.

It's seriously like embedded in me.

And often times like I'd feel,

oh God, I need to give it a complete overhaul.

And then you think, you sorta think,

this is what makes it what it is.

It is an old pub, it is hundreds of years old.

Why would you change it?

You know, there's too many things changing in life.

- [Voiceover] If there's anyone comes in to Ballitore--

- Look at the stone floor there now

and all the new pubs and that in modern rises

are putting in stone floors and that.

- Yeah, that's a flag floor

and it's like, it's here as long as

this building's been built so it's never changed,

albeit's rockier and it's unlevel

and you have to watch your step walking on it,

but it is here over 230 or 40 years old.

- You'd be alright coming in,

but you have to watch yourself going out.

(laughing)

- That is so true.

- Can I get a pint then?

- Yeah, no bother at all.

(playful string music)

- Back in the '60s, they were tearing

some of the most beautiful pubs in the city apart.

I was told a story, Liam passed this on to me,

and Bill, my grandfather, at the time,

people were saying to him,

"Bill, would you not move with the times?

"You're going to be left behind."

You know, they were basically putting carpet

on the floor and Formica on the counters

and taking away with the snug

and the partitions and the lovely old mirrors,

you know.

So Bill was really upset about this.

"Oh, what am I going to do here."

Like, you know?

So one day he went for a walk

and he went up to Ryan's at Parkgate Street,

another fine, beautiful Victorian pub

and the bossman was there himself,

Bongo Ryan, as he was known.

Bill ordered a drink and he said to Bongo,

he says, "Are you modernizing?"

Bongo says, "No."

And he says, "Well, I'm not either."

And the two of them shook hands.

To this day, Ryan's at Parkgate Street

and The Palace Bar stand as they were

back in those days, you know,

and they haven't changed.

♫ I have traveled far, far

♫ From your own native home

♫ Far away o'er the mountains

♫ Far away o'er the foam

♫ But of all the fine places

♫ That I've ever seen

♫ Short of none to compare

♫ Of the Cliffs of Dooneen ♫

- This is as it was.

It's a bit Canadian and it's a Columbian Pine floor.

And the woodwork is all Columbian Pine.

And there's a lot of stuff here

that was collected over the years

for the future generations to see what life was like.

Because with the advent of all the technology, you know,

and everything, that is everything is, will be as

stainless steel or plastic.

It's just a carton.

Just a memory of the people who went before us.

Just to keep the continuity.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- The younger generation will never know

what real pubs were like.

And this, to which we're lucky enough

to have kept, they can't get over it

and we don't have no television,

no music, just conversation.

And it has started off now with the surfers.

They love, because they can come in

and trash out what they did wrong

and what they didn't do wrong.

And they love when there's no music

or anything like that to annoy their conversation.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- Well, it's kind of an oasis now, unfortunately,

because the whole area's changed.

I mean, there's all office blocks and tower blocks

everywhere and it's over.

I mean, in the '60s, there was a theater

out across the road and we had the Irish Crest next door.

And it was always busy.

Very, very busy during the day.

And before that, it was the docklands

and we used to get all the dockers in

and it was just non-stop drinking in those days.

You know, early, early morning, we went in early

but as soon as you opened the doors, da will tell you,

like from half 10 onward, it was busy.

Constantly busy, you know.

So, now it's office crowd.

It's students.

It's workers.

It's a good mix of everybody

which is the main thing.

You know, it's a good mix

and they all come for the pint of Guinness

which we have a reputation for being the best

pint of Guinness in Dublin.

Which obviously means the best pint of Guinness anywhere.

So, we have a high reputation.

It's consistently very, very good

and every now and again I do sample it myself

just to make sure.

Quality control, you know.

So, cheers.

Tastes like more, as they say.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- What's the secret in a good pint?

Pull it so far and let it settle

and then put a head on it.

Good creamy top.

(laughs)

We hear the same.

All of us kept a good pint.

- Now, Dano, thanks very much.

- Well, it's a great Guinness alright,

but when Lisa's here there's me gold now.

(laughing)

Always a great pint, you know.

- It's okay, we're really used to each other.

(laughing)

Oh I like honesty, know what, that's okay.

- I wouldn't be out having the craic here.

(playful string music)

- Well, we're here in John B. Keane's bar

in Listowel and which was given to me

by my dad about 20 years ago

as he had enough of it himself working behind the bar

and trying to write.

Himself and my mother bought it in 1955.

Dad came home from England and spared up his money

and got a loan from the bank and the two of them,

she was a hairdresser, and the two of them set it up

and we've been here since.

It's a great little bar.

Not the biggest bar in Ireland,

but people think it is because of the name outside the door.

And the price of drink went up 10 cent the other day

and the customers were complaining and whinging

so I said I'd give them free drink for the night

if one of them could tell me the price

of a slice pan of bread.

Not one of them knew the price.

They guessed and they guessed.

They got it all wrong.

To be honest, I didn't know the price either,

but this fella, Sean Moriarty, started all the trouble,

so I said, "Sean, there you are.

"You know the price of a pint of Guinness,

"but you don't know the price of the staple of life,

"the very staple of life, bread."

And I says, "I don't pity you."

And he says, "But then again,

"I wouldn't eat seven or eight slice pans

"every night, would I?"

(peaceful clarinet music)

- The bus man used to be here,

not that many years ago now when you look back,

when you had to close between, if a Sunday,

you had to close between two and four.

- That's right, Jack.

- That was the hardest one because everyone

who come up in needed to double up on their drinks.

- That was always the sweetest drink in any pub

was the one after hours.

- Yeah.

- And the one you got on a Good Friday.

- They're the sweetest ones.

- We used the kitchen quite a lot

before the Sunday opening come in.

Yes, we did, I have to admit.

We get all the characters coming from the football

and the old boys from way down the low country years ago.

You know.

And they wouldn't pass this place without

coming in on a Sunday evening for a drink

and a bit of a singsong.

And discuss the football.

They would complain about the orient of the kitchen.

They always knew to come the backdoor

and some of them characters met me about

4:00 o'clock in the morning when they'd been looking

for a drink quick and maybe hit the backdoor with a stick.

(laughing)

Now and then they'd walk some stevedore

who used to hit the door with a stick.

And they would throw stuff up at the window.

Wasn't a policeman who wouldn't come without two

to our backdoor.

And to the back window, they crept through the window

and into the garden and away up the fields

to get out of the place's road.

And their batons with them.

- Well, the best models ever thought about

the 2:00 o'clock on for Sunday

and for clockwise.

His wife, the husband was coming home, he was kept in.

And he was coming home around 5:00 or 6:00 o'clock

and she said, "That's it, that's the last time

"you're gonna do this.

"Pub closes at 2:00 o'clock, you're coming home

"at 5:00 o'clock, your dinner will be in the bin

"next Sunday if you're not here at 2:00 o'clock."

He comes home the next Sunday half five.

"Where's me dinner?"

"It's in the bin."

Well, he got her by the scruff of the neck,

opens the door, gives her one good kick up the ass,

lands in the middle of the street.

And who's walking down?

Only the PP.

And he says, "Father, I'll make sure she goes to mass

"every other Sunday."

(laughing)

That joke will make anybody happy.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- Oh, lock ins it was always them, for sure.

No, they, they just were a big offense

after hours and that.

There was a big raid here one year

and they shut down three pubs in the town

the same night and the place was full here,

but everyone escaped out the back.

At the time, it was a major crime to be caught in the pub.

I think they caught five people that night.

We used to have hens out the back

and there was a vicious rooster.

But one of the fellas went and hid in the hen house,

but the rooster never made a sound.

The guards never checked in the hen house

and the boys reckon the next day that

the boogeyman had the rooster by the throat

and that's why there was no noise out in the shed.

'Cause the rooster would normally kick up a racket.

He wasn't caught now, but there was five other people

caught that night.

I think the fine at the time was a fiver or something.

But it was a big thing around the town at the time.

So nobody passes any remarks about that anymore.

Nobody passes any remarks.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- I suppose the Irish pub more so than the English pubs

or anything, is just the sense of humor.

You know, the Irish, they have a great sense of humor.

Personally, for me, anyway, I'm not a television addict

or anything, you know.

I like to come out and meet people

and my neighbors and that and have a chat.

I don't come for the drink really.

I'd have a drink, but it's for the chat I come.

- For when they for they have nowhere to go,

'cause of malady.

Get her own hooch anywhere.

But, I don't have any part in me

because I come down here and have a chat

a few nights a week and have a drink.

Pretty important for me because

I'm not interested in television,

I'd be sitting at home looking at the wall.

- Yeah, yeah.

(light piano music)

- And, uh, it's a social,

a pub is a social outing, so it is.

Where people come to relax and spend time in.

Settle down, look at your man.

It's unique because the pub in Ireland,

everybody comes to meet in the pub.

Everybody says hello to their friends.

How are ya, Frankie?

Great game.

- [Voiceover] How are you?

Class game, magic, wasn't it?

- [Voiceover] Fantastic, super, super.

- Class, class.

But um, um,

ask me that question again.

- If you went to a pub abroad and they just,

they nearly ignore you.

You go into a pub in Ireland and they go up in your ass

to find out who you are.

Name, address and creamery number

before you nearly get a drink.

You know, where you're from and who you are

and if you're evasive at all,

they'll keep asking you questions.

You might as well just put your credentials up

in the counter when you go in.

Save a lot of trouble.

That's what I know with them here anyway.

There was a man here one day

and he was fairly inquisitive

and he was sitting over the fireside there.

This stranger come in, I don't know who it was.

Your man called me over anyway and I went over,

"What's up?"

He said, "Who's that?"

I just turned around and says to the man,

"Aye, will you tell this fella who you are."

I says, "he wants to know."

The man says, "No I don't, no I don't."

He says, "What the hell else did you call me out for?"

You see the face going red on him.

He never asked me again.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- I say myself that we say Carmen now,

we say and her husband, Lord have mercy on him, Jim.

Do you know, they regarded the customers

as an extended family.

You know.

- And the staff were extended family.

- You know, the staff now, they do anything

for the staff.

The staff will do anything for them.

- [Woman] Yeah, we're kind of like family, yeah.

- Your customer's your friend.

Your customer, he is your family, basically.

And you get to know every one of them

and you know, they know you so well

and it's whatever Pete says or Pete doesn't say

or he's quoted in a lot of things when

he'd be better if he kept his mouth closed.

- There's people come in to me

full of drink and I get talking to them

and they'll stay for the night.

Just to be talking.

Maybe that's the bit of charm I have.

I can talk to people.

And relax people.

That's all they want.

And maybe sing a song.

♫ Come by the hills

♫ To the land where fancy is free

♫ And stand where the peaks

♫ Reach the skies

♫ And the lochs meet the sea

♫ Where the rivers run clear

♫ And the braken is gold in the sun

♫ And those cares of tomorrow

♫ Must wait 'til this day is done

♫ Come by the hills to the land

♫ Where life is a song

♫ And stand where the birds fill the air

♫ With their joys all day long

♫ Where the trees sway in time

♫ And even the wind sings in tune

♫ And those cares of tomorrow

♫ Must wait 'til this day is done

♫ Come by the hills to the land

♫ Where legends remain

♫ Where stories of old have been told

♫ And may yet come again

♫ Where the past has been lost

♫ And the future's about to be won

♫ And those cares of tomorrow

♫ Must wait 'til this day is done ♫

- I suppose the history of this pub dates back 1840.

Originally the building was built as a grain store.

I'd be the fourth generation and hopefully the kids

will be the fifth if we can stick it out that far.

My great grandfather turned it into a pub, shop,

grocery, feed store, machinery, you know,

everything went on here at the time.

Whatever was,

I suppose it drove through bad times,

good times, whatever, and I came back from Dublin

in '92 and started chipping the plaster away

from the building as things were quiet or whatever.

So I restored it by hand over a period of X amount of years.

I'm probably not finished yet if the truth is told, but.

It's been good to me in ways.

We've had good years.

We've had bad years, tough years, whatever.

The pub trade is tough at the moment,

but look, it's a vocation.

- I married in here in 1963 and the husband owned it.

So I now am running it now since he died in '75.

Passed away in '75.

So now I'm continuing carrying on.

And the next generation, I hope they do the same.

I'd like to see it continue.

I hope to God to do.

But no one knows.

We can't tell the future, sure we can't.

The future's not ours today.

Que sera sera.

Whatever's to be will be.

I think that's a very nice song.

- Well, I'm feeling is very important,

I like going into family run businesses.

I find that there's a connection of,

a connection of respect and of hard work ethic

and you need a hard work ethic to survive

within the pub trade or whatever.

And uh, Morry, would you get out of the way please.

Good boy.

It just brings a little togetherness within

and people feed off that if they,

you know, feel more secure within themselves

if they're in that sort of workplace.

Boys and girl, now, just move out of the way.

Move out of the way.

I came back here in the early 90s

and I have to say the trade here

was very, very, very poor.

For various reasons.

It was just a combination of parents being old

and not interested in the pub.

So it picked up for me.

And I've gone full circle

where's it's gone probably back

quiet again-ish due to the economy

and due to me losing maybe a lack of,

just a little bit of (glass crashes) sparkle

or a little bit of bite.

And I'm getting re-energized again

and hopefully if I can get my energy back into it

that hopefully it'll pick up again.

(slow thoughtful music)

- The pub's name is O'Shaughnessy's Pub

and it's affectionately known as The Captain's

and the captain, he was my father.

And he inherited the pub in 1952

after his brother died.

And he was an eccentric man, my father, really,

because he closed his pub at 6:00 o'clock in the evening.

He never opened after 6:00 o'clock.

And they all knew that and they all

left quietly at 6:00 o'clock.

So I'm keeping the tradition going

and I feel I'm only care taking it for him.

So I'll care take it anyway

and I said to him when you're dying,

I said, "Dad," I said, "the name's over the door now,"

says I and it'll be there when I'm going.

(slow thoughtful music)

A lot of the stuff here has been left in

by locals and by people who were interested in the pub

and had no more use for them.

That's actually the confessional from the church.

That's the original piece, that there.

The confessional from the church.

Of all the pieces and trinkets

that were given into the pub,

this actually wasn't given,

however there's an amazing story behind this piece.

This is from the penal laws in Ireland

and it's an altar when those religious persecution

in Ireland and it was forbidden

to say mass in churches.

Priests went to the houses and they said

and to private places in woods, whatever,

to say mass for the locals.

And this was what they call a traveling altar.

And everything is original in it.

It hinges down like that.

And the crucifix is here.

And the paten for the, when you receive the holy communion.

There was a little altar cloth,

an amazing little altar cloth.

All original.

These were all inside it back from the 1800s.

It's all embroidered.

'Tis beautiful.

And the original spoon for the holy oils.

(slow thoughtful music)

- Well, these, I don't know,

they must've been there for years.

Probably my grandparents got them and they were up there.

The one that's most popular is this one here

with the Mitchell's Whisky because it has

two lovely views.

One of Howth and one of Ireland's Eye.

And there's one mistake there, we think it is anyway,

Ireland's Eye, as people know what Ireland's Eye,

but it's Irelad's, L-A-D apostrophe S,

that's written on it.

So I'd say there's something about that.

- And Howth has--

- Howth has, I think, it's Roches Store in Dublin,

he wanted them and called one time--

- He said his home was on it--

- His home, he said was on that, so he would love

to buy the mirror, but the mirror's there that long.

It's not for sale.

- And as a matter of fact, the people

that made Ryan's Daughter, Faraway Productions,

they were the trow that done it.

They tried to buy the floor of the pub off my father.

And they wanted the village's slate put in the pub,

in Ryan's Pub in the famous Kirrary village,

which is Ryan's Daughter.

And my father says the floor is there before him

and it'll be there after him because you won't be moved.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- I suppose there's a lot of stuff.

We have a Four Roads jersey up there

that a man up the road was knocked unconscious

in 1963, I think it was, he was nine days unconscious

and they literally couldn't get the jersey off him

for nine days because of his head swelling or whatever

and the blood stain is still on the jersey.

We have different bits and pieces.

We have a Camogie All Ireland winning team.

We have a dog here wearing glasses and smoking a pipe.

We have an All Ireland Minor winning jersey.

We have an old can of Fanta.

We have a box of Calvita cheese.

I have my own grandmother's day books

where she used to book keep.

- Don't rightly have to dust them.

That's just become a pain.

And then people bring in various bits.

There's a mole trap there.

That came from, I think, was American, that came from.

All the way those tongs over there in the corner,

they came from Canada, ice tongs.

Just people bringing in bits and pieces

just add to the stuff.

And then when you go to paint the place

or do it up at all, you take everything down

and then you don't know where half of it goes back

so there's boxes of stuff lying about the place as well.

You be wondering how it all fitted up in the first place.

(light string music)

- And we always had stuff hanging out

of the ceiling there as well.

And when people came in, strangers especially,

tourists, they'd always have their head up in the air

looking at the stuff on the ceiling

and trying to identify it.

Sometimes it might be an odd Wellington hanging there

and they'd be looking for the other Wellington.

They always had a bit of a laugh about that stuff up there.

- Another bit of history,

the bar on the front door.

I'll show you this.

I'll bring up this close.

The bar on the front door,

there's a bend in it.

The bar was bursting in the year of the Black and Tans.

They drove the vehicle through the door

and they bust, they bent the bar in the door

and the bar in the door is still there.

We leave it there.

- Yeah, the picture in the background here

is a picture of Sive, it was John B's first play.

It was written in 1958 and it was a story

about a young girl who was being married off

to a far older man, very much against her wishes,

and she ran away in the middle of the night

and she was drowned.

They're lamenting her.

There's a song called Sive's Song.

For the murdered lovely Sive,

fore she would not be a bride

and they laid her dead to be buried in the clay.

Unfortunately, I can't sing because God

takes something away from everyone,

otherwise, I would be perfect.

(slow thoughtful music)

- Oh, Jimmy,

Jimmy's one of the top characters in the town.

Closet opera singer.

A wit.

Quiet man.

Spent a lot of time at sea.

And retired comes from an old Athlone family.

That pose suits him to a T.

He likes a glass of lager.

That was in the good old days when he could smoke.

We sort of have an arrangement

that he imbibes at little or no cost,

which I don't mind, or my wife,

we never mind at all.

It was practically our, maybe it was our

sort of, we started maybe, but

I just informed him recently now,

after 19 to 20 years in the place,

that if he's making a will to remember me.

And he was wondering why.

I just said a small matter about

12 to 13,000 euros or whatever, you know.

After I told him the quick maths, like,

but I don't think he got the point anyway, so

there's very little hope of me getting it ever.

It's not that I wanted it or anything like that.

(singing in Italian)

- Well, there was the characters coming in here, there were.

As they say, I can tell you there was gasmen coming in here.

There was one man, he was thinking, he was in England,

that he'd live here and be found later, worked hard,

been for service and he lived to be 88.

His drink there, sitting over there.

And he said here's where a little hat

that the lads brought back from Australia.

And he said, "Finucane when I die,

"hang that hat over where I sit.

"And every pint that's drank I'll then get rid of.

"Go on Finucane," he says, so I have the hat

hanging, it's hanging up there today in his memory.

That's it.

(soft bouncy music)

- It wouldn't happen.

And if somebody was sitting on his seat,

I'd move them.

If they came in, politely, of course,

but I just, but I think anybody local

would automatically get up, automatically,

when Dano would come in and they would know

that it is his seat.

Even people who wouldn't drink here regularly,

but might come in now and again,

would know that that's Dano's seat.

Yeah, if someone came in and sat down,

you know, I'd just, once or twice, I'd say,

if they weren't from here, I'd just say,

would you mind, that's Dano's chair.

Dano's famous in Ballitore.

(laughing)

I'm sorry, Dano.

Oh God.

Yeah, no, I think.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- I remember there was a guy,

there was a guy that, he used to come in here

and he just loved to bring a pint away in a bottle.

So my father would get the whisky bottle

and then he'd fill it with Guinness for him.

But, he'd say to him, "You'll bring back that bottle,

"now, tomorrow."

But the bottles weren't coming back, you see.

But this day, anyways, he came in and my father

put down his foot.

He said, "You're getting no Guinness

"because you're not bringing back the bottles" to him.

"Oh", he says, "I have the bottle outside."

And he went out and in the yard gate

and to the crates behind and he took a bottle

out of that, "Now, here's your bottle," he said.

He was getting his own bottle a lot of the times.

But you know, there was some great characters, you know.

Sadly, they have all passed away.

(bouncy soft music)

- The strangers now normally get the brunt of me.

Me bad manners let's say.

There was an American lady come in.

She went down to the ladies toilet

and she come back up and complained

that there was no lock on the toilet door

and she went to argue with me.

And I says, "Well my grandfather started business in 1811."

I says, "He passed away in the 40s, me father took over,

"he's retired now, passed on, I'm here since."

I says, "And no one's ever stole the shit out of it yet."

So that was the last complaint I heard from that lady.

In fact, it was the last word I heard from that lady.

I never seen her since.

I don't know if she took offense or not,

but she went on about her business.

Not that I probably would have seen her that much.

I don't think she'd mind commuting from New York.

(peaceful clarinet music)

- It was a story about a man that bought a bag of coal

in our yard where we sell the coal and a bag of flour

the same day.

And it is a very funny story.

He was going home with his horse and car

and his family in the car

and it poured rain.

And by the time he got home,

the flour and the coal mixed.

And the people were so poor,

they could not afford to throw that flour out.

It was ruined, the flour was.

It was black, the flour.

So they thought of a plan.

They made a cake with the black flour.

And instead of eating it themselves,

they tried it out on the old grandfather

and they gave him enough in cake

and when it didn't kill him,

they ate it themselves.

(laughing)

♫ There is nowhere quite so lonely

♫ As a silent darkened stage

♫ When the flood lights have all dimmed and died

♫ And the props are put away

♫ But our town felt just as lonely

♫ As May turned into June

♫ When God finally rang the curtain down

♫ And called our playwright home

♫ But you cannot kill a rainbow

♫ Nor turn back the rising sun

♫ Nor undo the works of gifted men

♫ Even though their day is done

♫ For they always walk in silence ♫

- And my dad got all his material

for such plays and movies as The Field here in the bar.

Around the time he died, 10 years ago this year,

an old boy just was wandering around the day he died

outside the front door and this journalist stopped him

and said, he said, "You mind me asking

"what it is that made John B. so special?"

So the old boy thought for a second and he said,

well he says, "John B. was the smartest man of them all.

"He took down what we said

"and then he charged us to read it."

So he got all is material here in the pub.

His story telling.

A lot of the characters from his plays

just walked in the door, off the street

and found themselves on the stage

a few years later.

Maybe a little bit disguised and a bit changed

by his fertile imagination, but nevertheless,

it all came from sitting up at the counter

or behind the bar, as I am now, talking away.

(contemplative music)

- Yeah, well Brendan Behan, like, his father and mother

drank here, they were lovely people.

But Brendan, in drink, was a right bowsy.

He'd clear a pub, you know,

but I remember, I'd be coming in from school

and my father throwing him out many times

and he'd be roaring at my father,

"You Tipperary bollocks!"

You know.

- Yeah, there's a couple different stories.

Mostly between Ulysses and Dubliners

and a couple of other short stories

that were based in here.

Maybe in the small room behind us.

There's a lot of history like the thing about paths crossing

in Dublin without passing a pub, which is,

you know, a lot of people have tried, I'd say,

but none succeed at it, you know.

But, yeah, we have a good, strong association

with James Joyce.

(slow soft music)

- Actually, my heat wasn't too warm last night.

- Huh?

- My heat wasn't warm last night.

- [Voiceover] Hello!

- It kept me (mumbles).

- I needed to get me photograph taken.

Look.

- [Voiceover] Somebody's taking your photograph?

- Here, look, the cameras are here.

I was ignored completely this time.

Third time only.

- We have the history of

are you going for a jar?

Now that expression is used nearly throughout the world.

Certainly in Ireland.

And that originated from here.

Beause in the First World War,

we were right beside the cemetery

and the graveyard, a lot of employees,

salt of the earth people, frequented here.

And in the First World War there was shortage of glass,

but jam was sold in jam jars.

So the men from next door, the good gravediggers,

they were the ones that got their pints in a jar.

So it became the expression from those gentlemen,

we're going for a jar.

I'd be the sixth generation.

We're here since 1833 as licensed premises.

Oh well, we were always branded that we have a ghost

and things like that.

One time here, the group with their equipment,

for the seances and the two mediums

and one of them said and the other fella said the same

the man standing beside me behind the counter.

So I went to one, I said, "Well, you go down there

"and sketch what you saw."

And I said to the other one, "You go down there

"and sketch what you saw."

And they gave me the identical

and I went upstairs and brought down

and who was it?

My step-dad, my dad.

Identical.

And he was, and I had asked my brother,

now this is a true story, believe or not,

folk art, call it what you like, it was a fact,

and he was the man that I bought the place from.

He was the man that took me out of the orphanage.

He was the man that took on my mother and five children.

He was God's gift to this house.

And he was my,

I hardly remember my own dad

because only eight years and 10 months

when he died, but that man was ideal.

Ideal.

(slow peaceful music)

- Well, my dad, he trained as a doctor in UCC

and he qualified just before the war

and he couldn't get a job in Ireland

so my dad went over to England to see

if he could get a job, but war was just coming

so he joined up the air force.

And he had quite a career there.

He was in Dunkirk with the battle on the beaches

and everything and after that he got sent off

to the Far East and when he was in the Far East

in Sumatra, the Japanese invaded and he was captured

and became a prisoner of war.

So he was three and a half years in captivity.

And he ended up in the Japanese mainland in Nagasaki

and he was actually in Nagasaki when the atomic bomb

was dropped, but luckily he survived and came back

and lived to tell the tale.

And we actually have a samurai sword

that he brought back with him.

An officer gave it to him.

The respect they'd built up between each other,

so it's amazing to have.

My dad was 14 stone when he went away

and seven when he came home.

But my aunt said she remembers him coming up

the gangplank and Dun Laoghaire,

his kit back over his arm and this in the other hand.

(peaceful clarinet music)

(lively Irish music)

- People play music here every Thursday

for the last 46 years.

It's basically, they walk in at 9:00 o'clock

on a Thursday night.

It is a stream of musicians in through the door

and into here and they play music for four hours

and then they're gone again.

It's a really unique thing that we have in here.

The room is tiny, but we regularly have

20, 21 musicians playing all sorts of instruments

in here every single Thursday.

So it's the longest running music session in Ireland.

It's 46 years and it's only ever stopped twice

for two funerals for two people that played here.

So that's pretty unique.

So what we do then is, when we have somebody

that's died, their picture goes on the wall

of where they've sat when they've played the music

all those years and their memory goes on then on the wall.

So we like to do that, remember everybody.

(slow contemplative music)

- Far as we know, we have a written history

and the Smyth's been here 1815.

That was the year of The Battle of Waterloo

that started off in Newtown.

It would seat 350 easily.

But would be fairly tight in,

but anyone came in after 9:30 they'd have to stand.

We had six girls behind the counter at one time.

I didn't work behind the counter at all.

Very seldom.

We had a small lounge here first

and I used to play the piano.

And then when a song was wrapping

and I'd want a drink I'd have to get up

and go and get the drink.

And I'd come back to play again

and the song would wrap again

and I'd have to go up again.

And a very, very wise and a very old man

came over to me one night and he said,

"You'll have to change your position here

"and your attitude, you'll have to get somebody

"to serve the drink and you stay playing the piano."

("Home Sweet Home" by Sir Henry Bishop)

You know that?

Home Sweet Home, the name of it.

I don't know what I was going to play now.

(light slow music)

- We've had some great times here over the years

and some great characters came though

and great musicians, you know,

already living in town was, or just outside of town,

was a great boost to us.

- I mean, that was huge, really.

A lot of people would say, like Clonakilty

was always a dreary place, but they reckon

when Noel came he brought the 60s with him, you know

and kind of kicked it off and just brought the color

to the area and now, as you can see it,

if you drive through it's all vibrant and colorful.

And it really was, certainly, one of the catalysts for it.

And it's just like anything, like we were saying before,

tradition is important now more than ever

and the musical tradition here is very important.

It's important to the town.

There's a huge musical legacy here.

All the young people now that are coming up

and some of the music and the musicianship

and the bands, it's phenomenal.

You know, like, West Cork, it's become the Nashville

of Ireland almost to an extent.

Christy Moore, like, one of the most famous quote

he said was, "There's the Sydney Opera House,

"there's Carnegie Hall, there's The Royal Albert Hall

"and then there's De Barra's."

So that's a good of testimony as I think

that you'll get off anyone.

- This funny looking man here is Sean O'Hearn, he's the

main singer in the National Folk Theater of Ireland.

He just wandered in for a drink so we managed

to persuade him to sing a song.

What'll you sing for us, Sean?

- I'll sing She Moved Through the Fair.

- She Moved Through the Fair written by Thomas Moore.

- Yeah.

- He was my van man, we're clearing him anyway,

just up the road.

Off ya go.

♫ My young love said to me

♫ My mother won't mind

♫ And my father won't slight you

♫ For your lack kind

♫ Then she stepped away from me

♫ And this she did say

♫ It will not be long love

♫ Til our wedding day

♫ She stepped away from me

♫ And she went through the fair

♫ And fondly I watched her

♫ Move here and move there

♫ And then she went homeward

♫ With one star awake

♫ As the swan in the evening

♫ Moves over the lake ♫

- Our grandparents opened the pub

on St. Patrick's Day, 1900.

And it's, we're the third generation.

There was my grandparents, my mother,

my father came in here and then there was four of us

and three girls and a boy.

And there's two of us always stayed

and we've ran the pub from when we were at school

we all had our jobs when we came home from school.

And then when mommy died in '62 and daddy died in '82

and we took over, the two of us, took over completely

in '82 and ran it, day in day out, seven days a week.

- We might have a how would you say, an odd,

you know word or battle or something like that,

but no fights.

- We don't do battle.

- Not a battle, but I mean,

difference of opinion.

(slow thoughtful music)

- Yeah, we're together, I suppose,

are we 25 years together?

- At least, yeah.

- Yeah, I suppose so, yeah.

Well, I haven't killed him yet anyway, so.

- Obviously, it's very advantageous for the business

as far as costs and that, but it can be a little bit

hard at times.

- Yeah, it's hard and we try not to really,

we try not to talk about it up at the house.

But particularly in front of the kids

because we're kind of all day at it.

And like, we do work, like, Pat works,

it's hard, he works, Pat works, realistically

seven days a week, you know.

We try and have a Sunday off kind of

every so often that we can do something

with the family, you know, because it is difficult.

Sometimes I feel like I could be a single mother.

- I think there's only, I think they said

there's three generations in every family business

or apparently, so come here while you can, I suppose.

The diode is watching us.

Might not be here for much longer.

But no, I suppose, I've been like,

I've been working here all my life

since I was a young fella.

I mean, on and off and then I went to school

and went to college and lived abroad for a few years.

I came back and I just kind of, I suppose

I just fell back into it.

So, had to go away to realize how much I missed it

and how much actually enjoyed it I suppose.

'Cause I never really liked it.

Like anything truly lasting, you want to be doing it,

working with your family when you're a young fella

and things like that, but I suppose, over the years

and with a bit more maturity I suppose,

I've kind of want to accept it and enjoy it

much more than I'm better with the boss, I suppose.

That's the problem because at the end of the day,

if he's the boss, and if your boss is being

an asshole, you can, jeez, he's an asshole,

but when your boss is your father,

it's very conflicting, that thought process.

Because, of course, I love my father.

He's not an asshole.

- I'm glad you said that.

- And I only say that, 'cause, oh no, oh no.

(laughing)

- That's my dad there, yeah.

He was here all his life.

He probably never,

I don't think he was ever out of the country

in his life.

He was never out of the country.

Never went on a holiday out of the country in his life.

I have been out of the country five times.

I've been Dublin eight times.

My dad is really the same as myself.

We never changed.

They ask me to see my brother.

(laughing)

(light slow music)

- Me father, he died there about five year ago.

He died between, you know, me father he knew nothing else.

He was in the broad, taken out of the school

at 13 years of age to work behind the counter.

Me grandfather wasn't well.

So that's all he knew was the bar work

from his school days.

Only he hardly never missed a day behind the counter.

Holidays, now wouldn't be a thing with him.

He might go away for a couple of days,

the latter years when we grow up a bit.

But no he wasn't be wanting now for going abroad

or all this.

He ventured over to England twice, I think, in his life.

That was about it.

Far as he went.

Talk to people nowadays who don't get up to foreign holidays

they're not happy.

- We had a painting, we had a painting done of the old bar

with my father standing behind the bar

and Lord miss him, he's gone since he's gone,

five or six years now, seven years, I think.

And I tell you, you didn't hang around

when he was around, like, you know.

You got on with what you had to do.

But, you know, he believed in being straight honest

with the people and that's very important.

And if he could be of help to them,

he definitely would be of help to them.

And he tried to pass that onto me and I hope

I took some of it from him.

You know, that you'll be friendly when people come in

and you look after them and that they'll go away

with a good feeling about the place.

- Well, get on my husband, like to drop a drink.

I'm very, very truthful about it

and I'm not ashamed to tell it.

Well, what many thought is more did,

but he was a good fella in every way

and very kind and very popular and very well known

with everybody.

I don't think it was that really killed him,

I think it was more or less a heart attack

that killed him.

He got a massive heart attack and died.

Lord rest him, yes.

But he liked to drop a drink

and his family before him liked to drop.

Where do you go there?

(laughing)

Yes, they did like to drop a drink,

so he would've too.

But I wouldn't like to see if the rest of them

taken it.

Too much.

I'm not on for too much strength now

because it can end up problems.

You know what I mean?

You know, people can go into off license

and buy a bottle at, you know, a reasonable price

and maybe a bottle of Coke or something to go with it

and you can't blame them.

But then again, I think, maybe they got too much drink

that way because if they're getting it behind the bar,

they're getting it measured.

Whereas all the way they're drinking it in bottles

and glasses, it's very, very, very sad

to see these traditional Irish pubs closing down.

It's the saddest thing in the world.

And a lot of them are closed.

And a lot of them will be closing if it continues

the way it's going.

Because I just think it would be terrible

'cause it takes away all the character.

The Irish pubs have a bit of character to them.

Do you know what I mean?

At least they make everybody happy and welcome

on the plus.

They look after people too.

- A pub, seriously, if among the mourning especially,

a pub, anywhere in Dublin, even here, you come in,

it's like a confession box.

I had to get out of the house.

She was doing me head in.

All these stories you hear, don't ya, Liam.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

- You could have a person 82 years in there.

You could have a person 52 years in there.

And you could have a person 22 years in there.

And like, the can all meet.

They get used to talking to each other

and interacting with each other

and they appreciate each other

and they respect each other.

And respect is what it's all about in a public place.

- The Irish Pub is a place where you can talk

without any interruption except by everyone.

I know that's a contradiction, but if you're at home,

you're interrupted by one person, your wife,

your husband or your son or your daughter

or your partner, whatever.

Being interrupted by one person,

you have to shut up, but when you're interrupted

by 50 people and everyone talks together,

everyone gets to say their piece, so.

It's like a safety valve for the population of Ireland.

We probably have less psychologists and psychiatrists

than any other country in the world.

But there's probably no country in the world

who needs them more.

Yet, we divulge all our troubles and our worries

and our bothers here at the pub.

Have a couple of beers, relax and talk them through.

That's what people do.

And I think that's why we're generally a happy nation

despite of all our little economic downturns

and the occasional recession.

(soft bouncy music)

- Pubs, people come in they have an awful lot

of regrets and stuff.

I don't think you should regret anything.

You know and everybody comes in and

if I were your age, I would do this

and I should've done that and you know,

here we live for now and we don't worry about

what's coming in the future and we don't worry

if we're gonna be in a recession for the next 10 years.

We just play a bit of music, have a few pints

and move on, you know, so.

If my one piece of advice would be to just

to just live it and not worry about

what's not happened yet.

- Enjoy life, I suppose, you know,

don't let your life be spoiled

by the big picture of things that you can't have.

Enjoy what you have and you can't do any more.

If you can make more out of it, fair enough,

but enjoy it while you have it.

- Live it as best you can and as long as you can.

When you go out in the morning, if you can do somebody

a good turn, do it, but don't do them a bad one.

You'll get through it, eventually.

You'll get through it, eventually.

- I, myself, the advice I would give to anybody

is peculiar.

I was very active in sport all my life.

Still am, training a football team here.

I had heart problems and whatever

and thank God I got over them.

And I'd say the most thing that most

was wanting to do for nearly all our life

is smile and respect each other.

And always be happy, no matter what your situation is.

- Oh, advice, the advice,

one of the things about life

that I always think is one seriously important

thing about life and that's to have a contented mind

and be well.

Have good health.

I'm 84.

Would you think I was 84?

- Advice to give them?

(laughing)

Oh, you wouldn't have to give anyone advice nowadays.

Oh, I don't know.

- In life, don't rush it.

Don't rush it, take your time.

It was a famous advice an old man

from The Blaskets told me.

(speaking Gaelic)

Which means take it easy.

And that was his life and I said that's the life to have.

Don't rush life.

- That was one of the people

that had the great idea, they got the poster

with all the pubs on it

and they were coming home for three weeks

and their holiday was, they were going to have

a drink in every one of the pubs.

There's about 40 pubs on it.

Around the whole country.

Just hired a bus.

Turn left at Dublin airport

and around the whole country.

It's a holiday I'd love to go on me self.

(peaceful clarinet music)