The Garage Bar- Essex Street, Temple Bar.
Amazingly enough, The Plough and the Stars was sold out. I’ve seen it (Review is here, cheeky plug), but young Kevin hasn’t and presumed he could pay on the door. Alas, you can’t. We wander up to The New Theatre, at the back of Connolly Books, where it is more or less the same for The Quare Fellow. “If you call back in twenty minutes, we’ll let you know of any returns”
Twenty minutes seems time enough for a pint.
Alas, the night is gone. We’re not leaving The Garage now. I’ve often walked past this place on the way to work and heard The Clash pumping out and wanted to head in there and then, and sometimes I’ve gone back post-work for a sneaky one with another ‘just off work’ comrade or two. It’s a small spot, but it seems to have someone spinning vinyl (or at least sounding like they’re spinning vinyl) in it over the whole week. It offers a pretty extensive cocktail menu, at least by the standards of this city. The look of the place is unique, a sawdust littered floor not too common in Temple Bar. It has a charm but.
A Black Russian pops over (Not the start of a joke) to the table from behind the bar, they had one over. I don’t want to touch it, a bizarre hybrid on paper consisting of Guinness, vodka and whatever else. Alas, it is surprisingly ok. On a sunny day visit here before this, I abandoned the ‘usual’ (Eh…just a pint thanks) for a few cocktails out the front in the sun with a friend, while Germans ran around us playing Vuvuzelas. Like a few Dublin pubs, it seems outside is the place to be on a busy night here.
Three rounds are ordered in, and each one passes the test. The Guinness is fine, reasonable in Temple Bar at €4.50, and seems popular enough with punters. It’s the music that’d keep you here, and bring you back. It passes the pint test and the music test, and I really like ‘the look’ they’ve gone for,but for some reason they have the tellies on too. Turn ’em off. A very small complaint that.
A quick glance at the watch, and there’s time for one more. By now, The Quare Fellow is long over too. I’m sure Brendan missed a play or two for a drink.
Click on the book for more.
Click on the book for more.
Donal
Ciarán
Sam
Come Here To Me! 
I was there last Thursday, couldn’t hear what my mate was saying over the tunes which sounded like someone passionately playing a kazoo over polyrhythmic screams. When it became likely that staying would cause both tinnitus and a headache, we left. The only thing that didn’t entirely disappoint, aside from the long island iced tea, was the cable spool table, even though it’s completely defaced with what people who’ve visited this bar thought interesting to share, such as ‘kieta el stupido elephante’.
Is this really the inside or is this a joke?
The picture is of the interior of the bar.