after meeting up with Nico and Kelly in Cork (finally!), we made our way to Dingle on the *other* famous peninsula in Co. Kerry. we stayed at a great hostel called the Hideout that had, bar none (yes, that’s right BAR NONE) the best bathroom I experienced in my two weeks of travel. just thinking about it now is making me happy.
anyway, there’s not a lot to Dingle; it’s a tourist destination and it’s got a lot of pubs. probably about a dozen within a couple of blocks from the hostel. of course, most everything in town is within a couple of blocks of the city center.
after settling in and finding some dinner, we headed out to find some craic at one of the pubs. we’d all heard positive things about Dick Mack’s, so we headed around the block in search of it. at the very least, Nico wanted a picture in front of it, but there was some music coming from inside, so we thought we’d brave the entrance and give this, the first of the truly authentic local pubs we’d found a try.
originally, as with many pubs in Ireland, and many of the pubs in Dingle in particular, in years past, Dick Mack’s served a dual purpose. by day it was a leatherworks shop, and at night the cobbler’s tools were tucked away and the place opened up as a pub. the daytime uses have been retired, but the interior was certainly one of the most unique pubs I set foot in. in the main room, in addition to the bar and a fantastic snug, there’s a long work bench that doubled as space for musicians to gather (through the door on the right in the picture). around the corner, there are two sitting rooms (for lack of a better phrase); in one there’s a fireplace and in the other there are shelves (behind the window in the left corner). on the walls of both rooms, there are paintings that depict scenes of those rooms as it appeared in a previous life. and in these two rooms, our amusement of an evening occurred. twice. and both times my party was accosted by the pub drunk.
the first night, after Kelly flatly refused to respond to his persistent (and annoying) inquiries, he got a little belligerent and said some rather unflattering and rude things. after Nico told him in no uncertain terms to bugger off (subtlety did not work), though, he did. later on one of the publicans came through, collecting glasses, and after we mentioned the confrontation, he expressed a degree of sheepishness about the drunkard.
the second night, the people I was with (Nico & Kelly had already headed back to Dublin) seemed more inclined to engage him in conversation, despite the fact that he got a rather lecherous look in his eyes when the youngest of our party (a soft-spoken blond) got a fit of the giggles. discussion of Leonard Cohen ensued, but eventually the drunk moved on.
