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Topic:
Culchies in dublin
GardenMan
(1,332 Posts)
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29-Aug-2008 14:07
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Apologies if ye all read this already, its from the Irish Independent. Its a decent article. I dont know where the author got the idea that CIE determine where culchies live in Dublin, but apart frmo that I mostly agree with the analysis. The bit about the Clare lad in a jersey in Ranelagh triangle is C O M I C A L.
My culchie-in-Dublin past came back to me recently as I drove through Ranelagh with my girlfriend. As we passed by noodle bars, juice bars and a Michelin-starred restaurant, I went into old-man mode, recalling when this was all TV rental shops, scruffy grocers and all-day breakfasts.
Nostalgia aside, though, gentrification suits the place. Only somebody addicted to misery would want to turn back time on Ranelagh Road. But the brash new premises tell the same story as their counterparts in Rathmines and Drumcondra. culchie Dublin is dead and gone. And without it, Dublin and the rest of the country have drifted apart like ex-lovers, sniping and sneering at each other from different worlds.
These culchie ghettos were a part of rural Ireland in the capital. On the northside, they clung to the Tolka and the Royal Canal in Drumcondra and Phibsborough. Across the Liffey, culchies colonised either side of the Grand Canal from Harold`s Cross to Leeson Street. CIE largely decided where you stayed. If your train arrived into Connolly, you went northside, while Heuston arrivals stayed south. This create d a provincial divide with Ulster and Connaught mainly up north, and Munster people sticking to the Grand Canal. It didn`t matter where you were from of course. Dublin has one word for everybody from Tory Island to Cork city, and that word is "culchie".
Back before Dublin had African shops and Chinese people in Statoil, we were the only foreign group in the city. That said, as somebody who came up from Cork after college in 1989, it didn`t feel at all foreign to me. If anything, being a culchie in Dublin felt like being Irish in New York, with a ready-made network to ease your way into the place.
In a crumbling red-brick in Rathmines or Drumcondra, a thickset Midlands landlord with body odour and a big set of keys would give you a flat with fleas. You didn`t have a car, so these ghettos were handy for walking to work and staggering back from the pub. In drinking dens such as Slatterys of Rathmines or the Big Tree in Drumcondra, you could meet other culchies who would be handy for picking up a job or maybe even a nurse for some casual sex back in the fleapit.
There was the legendary greasy spoon somewhere around Richmond Street, a greasy spoon for p**ied culchies that stayed one step ahead of the health-and-safety crowd by opening in the dead of night. All of us were in there at least once, but most of us couldn`t point out the place in the sober light of day, giving it a kind of mythical aura. Nobody who went there sober ever returned.
You got a sense of continuity from the older culchies in places such as Morriseys on Leeson Street or Birchalls in Ranelagh, pubs with black-and-white pictures of old GAA stars to remind the drinkers when they were king of the walk. On the site of what is now the trendy TriBeCa in Ranelagh, there was the Pronto Grill. It seemed empty all week except for Sundays, when single country people in their 50s and 60s would sit alone at table s set for four and make a roast last for a couple of hours. This would drive us to even greater feats of socialising to make sure we wouldn`t end up alone.
When the days got longer, culchie Dublin would swell to bursting point with GAA jerseys and funny accents up for the match. If you shared a house, it was not unusual to get up on a Sunday and find a stranger in an Offaly jersey sleeping on the living-room floor. He would introduce himself as Scobie, tell you he felt rough enough now so he did, and you would go off together to get an all-day breakfast.
This seems parochial and quaint now, but at the time it was exciting and new. I met my first Monaghan person. When you come from an insular county like Cork, the sound of a Monaghan accent is as odd as having breakfast with a walrus. I learned that a man can have any woman he wants as long as he has a Donegal accent. that Mayo people are always up to something. and Kerry people have a sly charm.
Dublin was a culchie city. The Dubs who didn`t keep to themselves in the suburbs blended in with the country people in the city centre. The fact was that most of them qualified as culchies anyway under the parentage rule. all but one of the Dubs I knew when I lived there had at least one parent from the country.
This was Dublin then at the time of the lost civilisation of the culchies, a familiar place that glued the provinces together, and made the capital more like a large Irish town than a small European city.
And then it became Zurich. At least that`s how my aunt from Cork described it when she bought me lunch off Grafton Street one afternoon in the late-Nineties, and when I lifted my head out of the trough long enough, I could see she was right. Dublin was becoming just another European city, complete with glass, steel and rude waitresses.
Culchie Dublin was steamrolled in a few short years. With so many jobs out around the M50, and the daft rental prices in town, the new culchie bought a car and scattered to places like Sandyford and Blanchardstown. The old culchie ghettos they left behind were either gentrified or taken on by immigrants, replacing fry-ups and dingy pubs with smoothies and halal butchers.
To mark its passing, we should commission a commemorative bronze statue at Ranelagh Triangle and call it The Unknown Culchie. a young fella in a Clare jersey with a gearbag in one hand and a Spar bag in the other, containing an Evening Press, chocolate HobNobs, crispy pancakes and 20 Carrolls.
It`s not that anybody misses it. I caught up with two of my Ranelagh housemates from the mid-Nineties recently for a nostalgia fest, and we all agreed that Dublin is a better place having moved from Carrickmacross to Zurich. But as Dublin turned its face to the outside world, the culchies became just another immigrant group in the city.
Culchies can still thrive in the capital. Ray D`Arcy is the biggest star on radio due to his ability to marry culchie charm with modern Ireland. Matt Cooper and George Hook show that people like a Cork accent on the way home from work. Brian Cowen is the Taoiseach, replacing Bertie`s north Dublin cabal with a bunch of culchies, most notably Mary Coughlan. Declan Kidney manages the rugby team. The TV can`t get enough of the Seoige sisters, Kathryn Thomas, Richard Corrigan, Podge and Rodge, and many more.
Outside of well-known Ireland, anybody who has tried to get a seat on a train out of Dublin on a Friday can tell you that there are still a huge number of culchies enjoying life in the capital. But when I was on the Cork train recently, it was obvious from their clothes and accents that this new breed of culchie is far more urbane and worldly than we were. None of them looked like they might thump the table at any moment and scream, "How`s she cuttin`?" at a bunch of ruddy-faced lads coming down the train.
These trains go to another world. Dublin people not familiar with the country might think that it is full of adventure centres, farmers` markets and holistic healing centres. It isn`t. People still go to Mass. They read headlines like "Miniature Airplanes Fly High Over Ballycarney" in local newspapers and listen out for deaths on local radio. They attend a lifetime of funerals. By and large, they vote pro-life and anti-change. They might not have any gays in the village. And they don`t like Dublin.
The growing distance between Dublin and culchie Ireland is causing a lot of grief. Look at the row that erupted when Shannon lost its link to Heathrow. Much of the Dublin-based media scoffed at the campaign to save the link, with a couple of writers suggesting that if the people of the West of Ireland want a proper airport and economic infrastructure, then move to Dublin.
But the ferocity of the campaign on the west coast came as no surprise to those of us who live outside Dublin. Culchies are nervous. Our livelihoods rely on a fragile mix of agriculture, fishing, tourism and a small band of multinationals. Unlike in Dublin, where people just start looking for a new job when a place closes down, a lot of people who lose their jobs in the country have to up sticks and move. When I worked in computers in Cork, in a job that wasn`t particularly specialised, I probably would have had to move from the city if the company disappeared. It`s spread that thinly.
Motorists in Cork and Galway sit in traffic jams and listen to news of Luas and Metro lines for Dublin. Rural hospitals close down. The fishermen can`t fish. There are whole swathes of the country without broadband. Dublin 4 holds its nose at the sight of Brian Cowen`s victory tour around Offaly, unaware that a lot of public events in the country still involve singing on the back of a lorry and a choir of yahoos. I heard an AA roadwatch woman on Today FM recently say that traffic was heavy on the northside of Cork city and motorists were advised to avoid the area if at all possible. This must have come as a disappointment to the 50,000 people who live there.
And still people in Dublin were surprised when rural Ireland decided to strike from the long grass on the Lisbon referendum. The yes/no constituency map of Ireland that filled our screens after the referendum is the most graphic sign yet that the culchies are p**ied off.
There`s more to all this than a feeling in the shires that rural Ireland is missing out on its share of the national pie. There is also a feeling in culchie Ireland that the capital has moved on and left it behind.
Dublin is like one of those plain girls in a high-school movie who takes her glasses off, lets her hair down and starts hanging around with the cool gang of New York, Barcelona and Berlin. Suddenly, she starts ignoring her old plain friends in Castlebar and Cork, who are a bit of an embarrassment with their funny accents and last year`s clothes. They are like the bridge-and-tunnel crowd you hear the woman cringing about on Sex and the City, suburban oafs who come into Manhattan at the weekend and lower the tone of the place.
Just like New York, Dublin has become a restless place with its eyes on the future, replacing anything shabby that reminds it of the bad old days with the kind of buildings, restaurants and motorways that a world-class city deserves. That`s what makes it so exciting. As with New York, it is now an inclusive and tolerant place that has become pretty blind to colour, religion and sexual preference. That makes it hugely attractive.
But you get the feeling, when you look at it from "down the country", that Dublin in its Jimmy Choos has forgotten where it came from.
It seems as if Dublin has divided the rest of Ireland into three parts __ there is its own catchment area, the commuter counties around the east coast. then there is "Cool Culchie Ireland". This is made up of a few select villages on the west and south coast such as Roundstone, Kenmare and Kinsale, which are effectively Sandymount with tractors. and, finally, there is the rest of the country. The midlands and mid-west, a few mangy cities such as Limerick and Cork, that might occupy the same piece of rock as Dublin, but can`t seriously expect to be in the same league.
This attitude comes through in the way the modern culchie is portrayed. Back in the days of culchie Dublin, culchie-baiting usually went no further than a few farming references and a hint that we`re all inbred. When you consider that most people in West Cork and South Kerry have eight first names because they`re all called O`Sullivan, this is fair enough. This was affectionate ribbing though and, as in the Kerryman jokes, there was a recognition that country people were much smarter than they let on.
Now, though, culchies are pure thickos, occupying the same place on the evolutionary ladder as Cletus and Brandine in The Simpsons. The modern culchie is portrayed in the media with the subtlety of the moronic Killinaskully, King of the Culchies festival and, the cruellest cut of all, Hector O hEochagain. He is essentially a pig-in-the-parlour kind of creation, the way that Punch magazine used to represent Ireland in the past.
Seriously, if the BBC made Killinaskully or invented an Irish character like Hector, the whole country would cry "racist", but when we do it ourselves it seems to be OK. The alternative to a rural Ireland full of diddle-iddledy idiots is in dramas such as Eden or Pure Mule, where it is shown to be the home of alcoholic depressives who live on the bog.
What nobody seems capable of doing is taking anywhere outside the capital seriously. Little did we think it at the time, but Glenroe was the last time anybody tried to show ordinary people living real lives outside of Dublin. It`s instructive to look at speculation over the root of the word culchie. There is a theory that it refers to people from Kiltimagh in Mayo, but that sounds like a theory that comes from Kiltimagh in Mayo __ remember, they`re always up to something.
I`ve also heard it said that it is a short version of the word agricultural, in reference to country types who used to attend the old Agricultural Show in the RDS. that`s a runner. In fact, that nickname reflects the kind of affection that Dublin had for country people before culchie Dublin was blown away by the Celtic Tiger.
The third possible root of the word is that it comes from the Irish cul an ti, referring to the country people who worked as servants in the big houses in Dublin, which they entered at the back of the house. This explanation seems the most appropriate.
Culchies are becoming second-class citizens in Ireland. Although nobody mourns the shortage of all-day breakfasts on Ranelagh Road, when they were there they fed a strong link between the capital and the rest of the country.
In their absence, it seems that everywhere else in Ireland outside of Dublin really is beyond the Pale.
Danny Tickle
(1,142 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 14:17
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Great article. I moved to Dublin for college in 2002 and thought that`s what it was going to be like. Had older sisters in college in the early 90`s when it was all Doc Martens, woolly jumpers and cold beans. By the time I got there the whole thing had changed. You couldn`t drink in pubs `cos it was too dear. Everybody, whether they were from Killiney or Kiltimagh, wanted to be like someone from the OC. Manhattans was still there, though!
GardenMan
(1,332 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 14:31
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Originally posted by Danny Tickle:
Great article. I moved to Dublin for college in 2002 and thought that`s what it was going to be like. Had older sisters in college in the early 90`s when it was all Doc Martens, woolly jumpers and cold beans. By the time I got there the whole thing had changed. You couldn`t drink in pubs `cos it was too dear. Everybody, whether they were from Killiney or Kiltimagh, wanted to be like someone from the OC. Manhattans was still there, though!
i moved there in 1998. straight to rathmines, then amiens street, then phibsboro (over a few yrs ) . great craic. the comment about the big tree is so true - it was so easy to pull in there. coppers was always a banker, but the temple and the palace were top of the list in the 98-2002 era.
Yes, things have changed, and its just as good. I dont live there now, but come back a lot. The comment about finding a lad in the leaba, sore head, head off for brekkie - so true. so many strangers passed through the house we had in Phibsboro. we counted 300+ people stayed there @ one stage over the years - them times were hectic, esp. when ya got a young wan back, there`d be severe competition to get your own bed, never mind room. Some bird was out with a mate of mine (wexford lad, fairly rough ) a year ago, she was a southside one, she said to him `turn your collar up, we are on the southside now -
now thats TOO FAR, TOO FAR indeed
clarem
(809 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 14:38
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Great piece. Who wrote it? I think they deserve to get some credit for it...
theredandgreen
(35 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 14:56
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God I really dont like these kind of articles full of vacous generalisations. The point being made that somehhow life is better, more fulfilling and more purposeful in Dublin just makes me laugh.
Moved up to Dublin for college last September and to be honest the only difference I see between it and home is the craving for cool. The never ending ocean of clothing enshrined with the words Abercrombie and Fitch, the Dolce and Gabanne sunglasses or faux (not fake but faux ) Dolce and Gabanna sunglasses on the head as the rain teems down on a cold wet dreary February Thursday, the seemingly neverending stream of Blonde that is rife in the Southside along with the worryingly orange skin which is reaching almost epidemic shades in that jurisdiction, the myriad of coffee shops, the juice bars, the shops selling shorts with orange horses on hem for 85 euro.
Jesus I can see how people of a certain vintage are just dismayed at the youger generations.
The author is right though Dubliners are now a different breed to us lads. In a lecture there one day and the lecturer says why would a farmer organise his calves into groups (the answer being for easy management ) hand up from a young southsider `to build a herd mentality`.
GardenMan
(1,332 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 15:04
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Originally posted by clarem:
Great piece. Who wrote it? I think they deserve to get some credit for it...
from the Sunday INDO
By Pat Fitzpatrick
Sunday August 24 2008
Its from todays online edition - editors choice.
re:below - herd mentality - haha. My grandfather was old school and he always used to say `I would never trust a DUB to watch my spuds boil`
meaning, the f****r would rob them. I dont agree, but it explains the mentality we were brought up with in GY. Dublin is, in my opinion, the best city in Ireland for ALL out FUN. They do get let down by some of the birds though, Clondalkin, Marino -
bofh
(Power User)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 15:38
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Looking back with rose tinted glasses here, I wouldn`t move back to Dublin for all the tea in China, but I firmly believe that every Irish person should live there at least once.
I lived there for a while, every Sunday was GAA sunday, myself and my mates (ranging from Meath, to Tipp, to Kilkenny, to Mayo ) would take it in turns to cook the fry up on a Sunday, then we`d head off towards Croke Park, we`d usually go for a pint in the Hill 16 pub cause for some reason that`s where we`d get tickets no hassle, in fact for a finish the bar man used to have the pints ready for us cause he knew what time the bus arrived.
Then we`d goto the match, proberly take in the minor match, for all of us it was our first job out of college, we were literally living from pay check to pay check (most of us paid monthly ) , so taking in as much enjoyment out of each match was paramount.
We proberly wouldn`t know what match was on, we were all just thrilled to be going to Croke Park to watch a match, before I started working in Dublin I had only been there 6 times I think (minor AI, school tour, football in 92, juniors in 93 and matches in 95 ) .
After the match we`d head to Quinns for a couple of pints in Quinn`s, then a couple in the Big Tree, we`d proberly head home after the round (there was always 6 of use ) .
Ahhhhhh, great times
criodain
(785 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 15:40
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shur I don`t know what the dubs are on about. Culchies are running the country. They work for US!
Bannerman in exile
(80 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 15:46
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Absolutely brilliant article. I can readily recognise myself (of a certain vintage of course ) in the Clare jersey wearin, Spar bag swingin lad in Ranelagh........so true.... no chance you`d catch me in Spar now, it`s Superquinn all the way........
scalder
(3,637 Posts)
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29-Aug-2008 15:56
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Used to live in Ranelagh and the morning of a Wexford game you’d see people with jerseys emerging onto the street from the side roads, really was a great experience to feel the ‘tribe’ gathering and converging on the city for the game!
treaty_exile
(829 Posts)
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29-Aug-2008 16:42
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loved it.
coppers, big tree, rody bolands, plus ca change.
always assumed it was nurses, not CIE who determined where fellas lived.
Semper Premier
(512 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 16:47
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Originally posted by theredandgreen:
God I really dont like these kind of articles full of vacous generalisations. The point being made that somehhow life is better, more fulfilling and more purposeful in Dublin just makes me laugh.
Moved up to Dublin for college last September and to be honest the only difference I see between it and home is the craving for cool. The never ending ocean of clothing enshrined with the words Abercrombie and Fitch, the Dolce and Gabanne sunglasses or faux (not fake but faux ) Dolce and Gabanna sunglasses on the head as the rain teems down on a cold wet dreary February Thursday, the seemingly neverending stream of Blonde that is rife in the Southside along with the worryingly orange skin which is reaching almost epidemic shades in that jurisdiction, the myriad of coffee shops, the juice bars, the shops selling shorts with orange horses on hem for 85 euro.
Jesus I can see how people of a certain vintage are just dismayed at the youger generations.
The author is right though Dubliners are now a different breed to us lads. In a lecture there one day and the lecturer says why would a farmer organise his calves into groups (the answer being for easy management ) hand up from a young southsider `to build a herd mentality`.
There`s a few vacuous generalistions in your own tuppence worth also...
theredandgreen
(35 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 17:03
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Looking at it now there is!!!!
Seriously though go out to UCD for a day and you`ll see for yourself. Not that I`ve anything against those people its just that way of thinking is just alien to me. That you have to conform to a certain image and wear certain brands to be cool, or indeed that you have to be cool in anycase.
And in fairness, a night out in Dublin is always good craic!
DéiseGirl
(4,030 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 17:08
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After a year in grey Kilmacud (well I found it pretty grey anyway, the daily trudge to concrete city aka UCD didn`t help either though ) I lived in Milltown for over 3 years and absolutely loved it. I am now living in the midlands this past year and hours from the nearest beach and it doesn`t bother me a bit, but I still miss being able to walk by the banks of the Dodder, stalking herons as they stalked their prey, watching cormorants diving into the water and watching out for the flash of blue and orange of a kingfisher. Sniff...
Even though I was giving out about my commute on the other thread, I still enjoy being in Dublin during the week.
Ice
(612 Posts)
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29-Aug-2008 20:39
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Originally posted by DéiseGirl:
After a year in grey Kilmacud (well I found it pretty grey anyway, the daily trudge to concrete city aka UCD didn`t help either though ) I lived in Milltown for over 3 years and absolutely loved it. I am now living in the midlands this past year and hours from the nearest beach and it doesn`t bother me a bit, but I still miss being able to walk by the banks of the Dodder, stalking herons as they stalked their prey, watching cormorants diving into the water and watching out for the flash of blue and orange of a kingfisher. Sniff...
I love it when a thread moves near to home. I`m just in from a run round the very same banks of the dodder. Didn`t notice the kingfisher though.
Great article and brought back many memories. Tea and toast with the kitchen door open in Phibsboro on a Sunday morning. Lock the front door so that the lads can`t smuggle their conquest out without us all getting a look. Lock your room going out as if you don`t it might well be occupied when you get home. Was never a Big Tree man though - more McGraths, Quinns or McGowans.
manfromdelmonte
(2,268 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 20:59
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Originally posted by Ice:
I love it when a thread moves near to home. I`m just in from a run round the very same banks of the dodder. Didn`t notice the kingfisher though.
Great article and brought back many memories. Tea and toast with the kitchen door open in Phibsboro on a Sunday morning. Lock the front door so that the lads can`t smuggle their conquest out without us all getting a look. Lock your room going out as if you don`t it might well be occupied when you get home. Was never a Big Tree man though - more McGraths, Quinns or McGowans.
Didn`t like Dublin too much when i was up there. but yeah, phibsoro. sniff. great spot. McGowans! don`t forget THE CAT!
uachtaran
(1,240 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 23:00
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Very good article but writer actually shows his age or the time he`s talking about which is towards the end of that period in the mid nineties.
Before that - Do any of you remember the following?
Streets (before Rodys )
The Garda Club
Chikis
Gigis (before Coppers? )
Crosbies (before the 4 Provinces )
The Rathmines Inn
Aprilla takeaway,
Manhatten was the dodgy chippy at Kellys corner.....
Any others?
bofh
(Power User)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 23:05
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Jaysus, the Garda Club, I remember going there the night before the all Ireland in 1995, I was 17, great night was had
Ice
(612 Posts)
Posted:
29-Aug-2008 23:25
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Originally posted by uachtaran:
Very good article but writer actually shows his age or the time he`s talking about which is towards the end of that period in the mid nineties.
Before that - Do any of you remember the following?
Streets (before Rodys )
The Garda Club
Chikis
Gigis (before Coppers? )
Crosbies (before the 4 Provinces )
The Rathmines Inn
Aprilla takeaway,
Manhatten was the dodgy chippy at Kellys corner.....
Any others?
Manhatten - I couldnt remember what it was called.
Gigis was the one with the bouncer from Pakistan - a right b**l*x he was too. You never knew if he would let you in.
Garda club - Yes, I`ll admit it, once or twice
Can`t picture Streets at all.
Night Train - is that still going ? That was always Plan B if we couldn`t all get into Gigis.
Remember getting into a right ruck in Hip, Hop Haven on the top of OConnel St one night - I think it is Frasers nowadays. My fault for going near the place.
And finally - the Auld Dub - when it was a proper pub
Ho Chi Minh
(870 Posts)
Posted:
30-Aug-2008 00:11
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Very enjoyable piece.
The first half is a lovely evocative piece of nostalgia, familiar to any of us who lived in pre Celtic Tiger Dublin. I’ve been away for too long to know if the second half is true or not, though, from my occasional visits, it sounds like he’s probably right.
Just one thing: Maybe it’s the Biffo in me but I was a bit taken aback to find Ray D’Arcy and George Hook ahead of the currentTaoiseach in terms of examples of culchie success.
By the way anyone else remember when Bad Bobs and The Barge (as in the boat ) were the only places in Dublin for a late pint (as distinct from a late night Leeson Street bottle of wine ) ?
Ungrateful_Whelp
(2,781 Posts)
Posted:
30-Aug-2008 11:24
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The Portobello too.
Funniest part in that for me is the description of the lad screaming `how`s she cuttin` down the length of the train carriage. Very rarely take the train, but it`s not hard to imagine.
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