It was relatively early on a hungover Sunday, some years ago, that I found myself in a packed Sackville Lounge, settling into the last available seat, tucked away at the end of the bar and beside the entrance to the small pub.
Awaiting his arrival back to the table from the bar, I had expected Pintman №2 to return in a bit of a huff. Or at least that’s the way I would have – not having anticipated such a busy bar for the early hour that was in it of a Sunday. So imagine my surprise when he landed back with a big happy head on him, before plonking the pints down on the table.
– I’m after getting them for free.
– Yewhat?
– Yeah, those are on the house, he said, to celebrate the five-in-a-row.
– Happy fuckin days.
Taking that first, curative sup of the sweetest of pints (free ones), I’d settled my gaze on a youngfella sat across the other side of the pub.
– C’mere, see your man over there, do you recognise him at all?
– Looks familiar, alright, but I couldn’t tell ye where from.
It might be that we’re not the most observant of fellas, or it might have been the fact that we went out on The Waxies’ Dargle* to watch Dublin win a historic 5th All-Ireland Football Final in a row, the day prior. It could even be a combination of all of the above, but we really should have realised what was going on. I mean, all the signs were there:
· A pub that was so packed at such an early hour on a Sunday
· The fact that we were given a pint on the house to celebrate the win.
· A gang of similarly dressed jubilant lads on the far side of the pub.
· The familiarity of one of them that we could properly see.
But we only copped it after Jim Gavin – the team’s manager and now a presidential candidate – rose from his seat and came into plain view. Yes, we had walked into a pub hosting the All-Ireland winning team, no more than 20 or so hours since the final whistle had blown in Croke Park. This was, of course, much to the jealousy and annoyance of our peers with an actual, full-time interest in GAA, and not just bandwagoners like ourselves.
Being one of the smallest pubs in Dublin City, the episode above came at a time when The Sackville Lounge was in a sort of renaissance, having been reopened following a few years’ closure on the back of the demise of Clery’s Department Store.
Sadly, such incidents of closure were not finished affecting The Sackville Lounge. Just as the pub was beginning to hit its stride, the pandemic struck, and ultimately, the proprietors of this particular incarnation of the pub had to pull out of the venture, throwing the premises into another spell of disuse and uncertainty.
What followed thereafter is probably best forgotten, but for posterity, here goes. The pub was acquired by someone who saw fit to open it as Biddy Mulligan’s Old Ale & Stout House – replete with cheap Carroll’s Gift Shop-esque signage and the lot. To say that there was an outcry would be to put it mildly – numerous media outlets even reported on the outcry, with this one even quoting us in the process.
As it turned out, Biddy Mulligan’s Old Ale & Stout House was not a successful venture and the pub was once again vacated. But having been acquired by the owners of the 1661 on Green Street, the pub had its previous name restored and was reopened. The 1661, which we haven’t yet written up for the blog, is undoubtedly the finest cocktail bar in the country, and their offering in The Sackville is a pared-back version of the type of thing they do at 1661. They’ve even given the pub the tagline – it can be seen on the awning in our picture above – it’s ‘Beloved Dirt’, whatever in the name of Jaysis that’s supposed to mean.
To us though, it’s all a bit of a bittersweet affair. There’s little doubt that it’s a different pub now – its new fitout certainly tells you that – with its beautiful marble bartop contrasting against the matte-black furnishings that abound. And while we can’t help but lament its past – where you might nip in from a downpour of an afternoon and find yourself debating the issues of the day with a GPO clerk, a bus-driver and a Ladbrokes cashier – we can be delight that the pub is at least in good hands and back in the city. And maybe we might just need to dig a little deeper before we find this particular dirt beloved, but we’ll certainly darken its door for a few cocktails yet.
* The Waxie’s Dargle is a traditional Dublin Street Song chronicling the efforts of two cobblers, a profession whose members were colloquially referred to as Waxies, to go on a holiday, for a drinking session in Ringsend and Irishtown. A Dargle being another colloquialism for a holiday, taken from the popularity of the more well-off for visiting Bray in County Wicklow and holidaying there, alongside the River Dargle. TLDR: We were on the lash in Irishtown and Ringsend
Postscript: While I’m very grateful to Jim as being one of the main driving forces in Dublin’s All Ireland triumph, and for us ultimately getting free pints on that day, this post should not be considered as an endorsement of Jim Gavin in his campaign to be the next President of Ireland or of the Fianna Fáil party with whom he is campaigning.
Shameless Plug: we’re in the midst of a very soft launch of an Etsy page, selling some of the prints of the photos of pubs we’ve accumulated over the years. Feel Free To Click Here And Take A Look
Leave a Reply