
The Patriots Inn- photo taken from alfredandmarie.com/Dublin%20Trip/Dublin.html
The Patriots Inn
760 South Circular Road Kilmainham Dublin 8.
The wise ones, we park at Kilmainham Jail. Match day. I remember a time you’d want to be arriving almost an hour before kick off to park your car before heading to see Saint Pats, ‘Dolan-mania’ it was. Those days are well and truly over. I’ve grown up, but I suppose the younger brother has always made post match pints impossible, as tempting as this pub does look.
Post booklaunch is a great time for a pint. Sure, you’ve a free glass of wine or three in you, but wine? When you’re standing there gazing up at the cells in Kilmainham Jail, and those names jump back at you, it’s a pint you want. Instantly. It’s so much to take in. Remarkably beautiful, one has to remember that that prison was allowed to fall into complete disarray, with people raiding the place for metal and anything not nailed to the ground, as trees grew out of the ground in a place once home to everyone from Wolfe Tone to Peadar O’ Donnell.
How very Irish really. We built massive “‘mon the lads!'”monuments at Kilmichael, Crossbarry and anywhere else we gave them ‘a good go’, but the most important historical site of the revolutionary years (and we’re starting the revolutionary years with 1798 here, not 1916) was allowed rot away. Volunteers (of a different kind) brought this place back to life. It is a much more fitting monument to the men and women of Irish history than any roadside piece of concrete.
The reader: The pub, you’re reviewing a pub here?
I’m getting to the pub.
It’s really handy to name a pub something like this when history kindly leaves something on your doorstep. There are pubs in this country named after everyone and anything. Wolfe Tones Pub And Bistro (and I bet there’s one somewhere), for example, might look nice from outside, but inside- it could be any pub anywhere, with no further mention of the Oirish name that got you in the door.
The first thing you see however, when you set foot in the Lounge door here, are beautiful rare photos of the jail across the road. A group of men and women standing by the cross marking the spot where almost all of the 1916 executed men fell in the early 1930s, republicans being taken to the jail by British forces, amazing photos. They go around the corner too, with more on the far side. It’s a wonderful touch. They’re not milking or ignoring what’s on their doorstep here, they’re engaging with local history perfectly.
Two highstools are spotted, and quickly taken. The people? Friendly staff, I spot two females working between the lounge and the bar. The pints clock in at €8.20 (For two, relax) and are unfaultable. I’m playing with fire here, having 15 minutes to spare before I have to get on a bus to Maynooth (have to, as students we have to go out in the town at least once a week)
Another one? Time says no, but eh…go on sure.
Two more arrive at the bar. The older Fallon spots a poster in the corner of the bar, promoting events. Unusually, the pub hosts Film Nights. This is most welcome in my own opinion. I firmly believe pubs can be a hub for a lot more than high-stool chat, and this is a perfect example.
The bar seems very much a locals bar, but this pub has a genuine warm feeling to it. Older Fallon departs for The Oak, a pub he frequented as a young(er) man and feels deserves a return trip. This one, it is agreed, also warrants a future return trip. Word on the street is that the food here is topclass too, and a quick glance over the menu reveals a very fair price-list, and food more in the Panini category than ‘terrible pub ham and cheese offerings’
Younger Fallon takes off for Maynooth, content with two fine pints, and a good fifteen minutes behind schedule.
The 66 journey is long, and alas- toiletless. Let this Random Drop Inn be the one that inspires me to include a brief summary of the toilet facilities from here on. Alas, we learn from experience.
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