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410) John’s Bar and Haberdashery of Thomas Street, The Liberties, D8

This outfit is new to the block, and something of a pleasant surprise. The very name John’s calls to mind the wonderful Gotham-esque John’s Lane church across the street, but in fact it is named for John Creeth, a haberdasher who ran his shop on these very premises in the 1850s. Since acquired by the same group who have done yeoman service with the likes of Mary’s and Anne’s and The Giddy Dolphin, there has been a very conscious and deliberate and altogether successful attempt to preserve the past and do honour to the history of the area.

Creeth had his haberdashery here in the 1850s, but John’s as we know it opened in August 2020. The grand opening was delayed by some 18 months while a full archaeological excavation was undertaken given the historical importance of the area. Over 4000 artifacts were uncovered underneath the property including medieval pottery, animal bones, tools, leathers, and ivory (all of which are now in the National Museum). Old wooden beams were also uncovered and one bearing Creeth’s name can now be seen overhead on entry. The history is rich here at 61 Thomas Street and according to their website: ‘The buildings themselves date from the 1600s, where number 61 was found to be a brewhouse and malthouse in 1686, and next door at 62 was ‘The Blue Boar Inn’ in the 1690s.’

Apart from the very modern-looking burger joint at the bar’s back (and the exterior which is vapid and madly modern), stepping through the doors is like stepping back in time and inhaling the dust of centuries past, the walls full of nicknacks relating to the haberdasher’s noble trade, as well as oodles of fascinating vintage photos cramming the laden walls. There was lots to see and a great air of community spirit - one lady in a wheelchair, who seemed to have taken upon herself the post of unofficial tour guide, engaged Andrew in a long discourse about matters historical and trivial. And talking of history, we walked in to find legend Éamonn Mac Thomáis on the telly giving one of his good old tours of Dublin. What a great touch. 10/10 John’s!

Our hearts were particularly thrilled when we spotted a sign outside, prominently advertising Beamish for the toothsome price of 5.40 euro. In actual fact, within it vends for 5.90 euro, prices everywhere skyrocketing as they are. But why carp? It’s a bloody bonafide Beamish bonder for heaven’s stout sake, and in the heart of the Liberties no less, a Beamish-less desert in recent years up until 2023. And what’s better and more encouraging still, the bussing Beamish is doing booming business - within minutes of our arrival, we were surrounded by drinkers of varying ages all quaffing from the same cup as ourselves. This warmed the cockles and cheered the soul and lent gusto to our supping.

A little doggy called Taylor was present, and ran rings around the legs of the tables and chairs. Also present was a far less sympathetic figure, a rasher-faced mutton-chopped old geezer sporting Bono glasses and the air of a clapped-out rocker adrift in the modern age. Like all the youths present, he too was drinking Beamish, though surely no shrewd advertisers would want to sign him up for their campaign. One had previously caught sight of him over a decade earlier in Cafe Sofia of Wexford Street, muttering and cursing and acting the bollocks in general, inspiring the admonition of the normally easygoing management. His manner had not changed in the fourteen years since, grunting to his pint and stacking up a tower of his pennies before knocking them down, making unintelligible but vaguely threatening remarks to any patrons who passed by his table. A bad egg with a bad odour, but ah sure it’s a free house and a public one, you meet all sorts.

All in all, we were delighted with our discovery and shall certainly be back. Around 6pm (of a Monday), the DJ sidled into place and began to noisily crank out some greatest hits, which negated conversation and hastened our departure - though not before lingering for a rousing and thigh-slapping rendition of Tim Finnegan’s Wake. Fair play to John’s!

N.B.: Tippler’s Tip: Come earlier in the week. We are reliably informed, by a gallant and long-serving staff member of The Lord Edward, that the place becomes absolutely animalistic come Fridays and Saturdays and the weekends in general. One thinks of #riots



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