By proximity to his house, I believe the Duke of Edinburgh is Silent‘s local but I didn’t have his number to ring up and see if he wanted to meet for one…or two. It was a bit early on Friday evening, anyway, and he was very likely stuck in traffic so I went in without a guide and was very glad I did.
The bar was packed when I entered and stepped over the bulldog snuffling spread-eagle on the floor. Looking over shoulders and surveying the beverage offerings I settled on a pint of Guinness. “You come to an Arkells pub and order a Guinness…typical,” said a guy next to me before emptying the last of his Carling lager. Typical. Mick behind the bar gave a smirk at my sideways glance at the guy and took my cash while the first pour settled. I took up residence at the end of the bar and watched the crowd dissipate to other areas of the pub as their orders came up.
There were backpacks up on top of a wall mounted juke box and other high places. Some boys playing snooker went out for a smoke and one of the old guys down the far end of the bar took their packs down and had the bulldog sniff heartily before replacing the bags on their perch and heading back to his. Odd. Later, after I was half through my Arkells 3B (you can’t go to an Arkells pub and not, etc), the boys donned their packs and headed out; as they passed the dog he freaked out, barking and snapping and causing them to yelp and dash for the door…ahhh, piss taking at its best. I must come back.