National Inventory Pub Crawling: Northern Ireland

Back in November 2007 we visited Belfast for a Heineken Cup game between Ulster and Gloucester. Wanting to make the most of the trip, we took the car across on the ferry from Stranraer; thus giving us more scope for pub-visiting than we’d had on our previous trip by air (a link on the CAMRA website to a new list of over 50 historic pubs in the Province having influenced our decision).

It’s quite a trek up to Stranraer from Cirencester, but we had planned to call in at the Blue Peter, Kirkcolm for lunch. Unfortunately, it transpired that it’s shut during weekday lunchtimes, so our first pint of the day was back in Stranraer at the Grapes, an unlisted National Inventory pub that was another part of the reason that we chose this route. The Grapes is not a pub to visit for its beer – its only real ale, Greene King Old Speckled Hen, was almost undrinkable – but if you can stomach a pint of Belhaven Best, as Andrew did to be polite whilst we looked round, the pub itself is well worth a visit. The landlady was very friendly and gave us a full guided tour (in between serving customers). There is a basic unspoilt bar downstairs, and an art deco bar upstairs with lovely Tiffany-style lampshades on the walls and ceiling. This bar leads through to a lounge containing a selection of original leather upholstered chairs and tables with cast-iron bases; another small lounge (with hatch service to the bar) leads through to the Ladies. The pub used to be a coaching inn, and the old yard with its surrounding stable buildings now serves as an outdoor smoking area. We were sad to note that the two very small back rooms had recently been knocked into one (apparently they weren’t being used enough), but pleased that the old working bell-pushes had been retained.

The ferry finally left port three hours late due to the storms, so we changed our plans yet again and made our first stop in Belfast the Fort Bar, one of two Belfast pubs in the 2003 National Inventory (there are now several more listed in the current Good Beer Guide). We were a tad apprehensive about visiting this pub as we’d been warned on a previous visit (by a taxi driver) that our accents would put us at risk in this passionately Republican area. However, we didn’t want to miss out on a National Inventory pub just for the sake of “politics”, reckoning that we’d be safe enough early on a Thursday evening. This indeed turned out to be the case; the half-dozen or so locals smiled politely but were professionally disinterested in us as soon as they heard us ask for our two pints, whereas the bar staff and an Italian who resides nearby were very chatty. One of the other locals made a polite comment about why we were there, as is often the case in certain Scottish pubs where they like to know who you are and why you’re there; the difference here being that instead of loosening up and chatting he promptly clammed up (once he’d ascertained that we were over for the rugby and were only having the one drink in ‘their’ bar). It was a bit disconcerting at first, but over the course of the visit we quickly deduced that the locals in Republican bars don’t want any truck with English tourists, whereas the staff seem genuinely chuffed that someone is interested in the history of their bar. Whilst it’s not a safe place to visit late in the evening whilst wearing a Union jack T-shirt, the pub itself is well worth a look: it has an ornate wooden bar back incorporating several cask ends, decorative tiling around the bar, and several old-fashioned drinking booths, furnished with built-in narrow tables and retaining their original match strikers. The wall at the far end of the pub has an old factory clocking-in system. There is also a tiny separate room with its own door, which we didn’t get into but were told that it’s a snug for people to “do business” in without being seen – the hand of history lies heavy here. They don’t do real ale, but the Guinness was perfectly drinkable.

After checking in late at our hotel, we hurried to meet some mates at the National Inventory listed (and National Trust owned) Crown Liquor Salon, which is grade A listed and one of the few GBG listed pubs in the Province. This building is described in the National Inventory as “ Britain’s most spectacular historic pub” and I don’t think I can improve on that description; it is simply stunning, and I could easily dedicate a whole article to describing it. Just go there, if you get the chance, and you’ll see what I mean! There were three ales on handpump on this particular occasion, all from the Whitewater Brewery, the Glory being the best (an acquired taste, but very moreish once you get onto the second pint).

During the course of the evening we arranged to take our friends out in the car the following lunchtime, so we duly met up outside our hotel late Friday morning and headed straight for the Rock, a bar in a stoutly Republican district that wasn’t in the 2003 National Inventory but is now in the listings at the back of the GBG. This is a very special pub; to the neutral it’s for the spectacular stone carving on the outside (done by some Italian masons, but ask for their story yourself) and its wonderful interior; to the locals it’s for the history, as the murals on the houses opposite will testify (and the repairs where a RPG was fired into it during the “Troubles”). Great staff once again, but polite disinterest from the locals, which made admiring the old drinking booths a bit awkward (“excuse me, we’re just browsing” normally leads to a conversation – but not here). The most striking feature in the Rock, though, is a drinking island at the top end of the bar – a low curved bar top surrounded by low stools that allows a score more customers to sit. There’s an impressive wooden bar back as well, but no real ale, although the Guinness was good (and cheap for Belfast). We enjoyed our visit to the Rock, but chatting to a couple of Ulster fans at the rugby later, we found that our instinct to make a lunchtime visit on a weekday was probably a wise one; they were most impressed that we had been to what appears to be quite a notorious pub (and completely off limits to them by accident of birth).

From the Rock we moved eastwards across town to the Hatfield House, another new National Inventory listing. Once again we had an impressive frontage to admire, with possibly the most visibly impressive bar on these islands, 17 large dispensers almost obscuring both the ornate wooden bar back and the staff, with lovely tiling and lots of detailed carving on the wooden columns, pillars and partitions. The old snugs are no longer there, but their former positions are marked out by tiles on the floor. The pub was quite dimly lit with a real fire keeping it beautifully warm. As is common with a lot of these bars there was no real ale available; indeed, 11 of the 17 dispensers were dedicated just to the Guinness and two different lagers. The banter with the locals was great, and we enjoyed swapping Irish jokes as we sampled yet more Guinness, but the Protestant bars do tend to have an annoying habit of employing the most po-faced people in the parish to serve their customers.

As it was now mid-afternoon, we nipped back to the hotel to park the car and prepare for the evening session (and the match); so a stroll to the local station saw us catch the train out to Holywood on the south side of the Lough. Walk down the ramp out of Holywood station, turn left, and you can see the Dirty Duck Ale House (a regular winner of the local CAMRA pub of the year award) 200 yards along the shore. There are no architectural delights here, but the pub boasts superb beer and excellent (and well priced) meals, with fantastic views over the bay. I was slightly disappointed not to see the dark Hilden’s beer that had been there on our previous visit, but pints of Tom Wood and Thrappledouser both went down well as we all stuffed ourselves silly on large portions of food. Feeling rather replete, we decided to catch a taxi over to Ravenhill for the rugby, where, given a choice between Guinness or lager, we choose the black stuff (until we found a stall selling mulled Port an hour later – and very pleasant it was too). After the match we eventually celebrated our win back at the Crown (after getting a taxi to a GBG pub that had no real ale on!).

On Saturday, Andrew and I set off west on our own to visit some further flung pubs. We decided to go to the furthest first and then work back, so our first stop of the day was Blake’s Bar in Enniskillen, a Grade B listed pub in the 2003 National Inventory. There’s a biggish bar, with an amazing bar back that incorporates four huge barrel ends, and a tiny snug that has its own entrance door. Steps from the bar lead up to three large snugs off a central corridor, all with full-height partitions and doors. The snug nearest to the bar has a window through which the bar can be viewed from above; and if you go past the one at the other end you can access a corridor that leads you through to a completely different bar, which has some interesting features of its own although it isn’t part of Blake’s; the whole building consisting of two restaurants, two modern bars, a night club and the original bar we visited (with the Italian restaurant in the basement highly praised by the locals). We got stuck here for quite some time, chatting to the bar staff and some friendly locals, to whom Andrew introduced the delights of mixing Barbadian rum and orange juice before we ended up swapping lavatory horror stories (you really needed to be there for that one). No real ale once again, but thanks to the rum and orange I didn’t really miss it on this occasion! We accepted a chance to purchase a bottle of a local whiskey before leaving.

It was a wrench to tear ourselves away but we had a number of other places to get to, so we moved on. Knowing that most of the day’s pubs would not sell real ale, we strolled down the bustling high street to the Linden Hall, the only GBG pub in Enniskillen. It’s a fairly bog-standard Wetherspoons, but we were pleased to see some different beers on: the selection included Titanic Iceberg, Davenports IPA, Thwaites Flying Shuttle, Robinsons Old Tom, and Ecaussinnes Fruit Beer. I tried a half of the fruit beer, which was slightly startling but quite palatable, and Andrew’s Titanic was in superb condition.

Enniskillen seems to be a thriving place, the locals seemingly very content with life, although we left with the impression that every fourth building in the town is a ladies’ fashion outlet. I can recommend it as a great place to visit for a short break.

Whilst in Blake’s bar we were told that “nobody goes to Irvinestown”, and I can see why, as it’s easily the most boring (almost depressingly so) place we visited (we left with the impression that the whole place was low on confidence). We had re-entered the real ale desert once again as we arrived at the Central Bar on the High Street, an unlisted pub in the 2003 National Inventory. There’s another impressive bar back here featuring four beer barrels (this seems to be a common feature in Northern Ireland). One entrance goes straight into the lounge bar with its lovely oval tables and leather upholstered chairs, which leads through to the bar. A tiny snug with a hatch to the rear is off a lobby from the second entrance. The walls are adorned with a set of fascinating posters detailing European breeds of livestock and horses. The high wooden panelled ceiling above the bar becomes lower towards the end of the room, where a real fire was giving off intense heat. This area has a big internal window to the corridor – an unusual feature – and an open hatch through to a back room that was laid out as a restaurant area. This room boasts an impressive collection of places and jugs, and leads to a further restaurant area, divided by partitions and furnished with welcoming-looking leather upholstered seating. This is quite a large pub and is worth a visit, but take a mate along if you want a conversation.

We took a scenic route back to the A4 (via Fintona) to reach our next stop, Cassidy’s, in the village of Auger (no, I can’t pronounce it properly), another new National Inventory listing. This bar was very difficult to spot (it’s just 100 yards south from the traffic lights and is dark red, but dusk was falling!); but a small Guinness sign gave it away and then we saw the Cassidy’s name engraved into the windows. The main bar is sparsely furnished with a very high bar top of granite and a local working men’s club atmosphere (if you follow the “gee-gees” you’ll fit in); the most striking feature here is a small snug with a fantastic narrow table up the middle (about a foot wide) just off the entrance lobby. The snug is only slightly spoilt by the modern doorframe and door, which were added at the same time as the kitchen and front room were opened out into a large lounge, complete with pool table and low wooden bar, about 15 years ago.

We didn’t stay long at Cassidy’s, just long enough to have a half of Guinness and look around, before moving on to Dungannon, which has three pubs on the new National Inventory listing that we wanted to visit. The first of these was McKee’s, a fantastic little one-room bar which was very hard to get away from despite its lack of real ale. The landlord and locals were incredibly friendly and welcoming, wanting to know all about the National Inventory and CAMRA’s pub heritage campaign; one of the locals took us out to the back of the pub and showed us the old coaching/stabling buildings and an amazing stone staircase made from huge blocks of solid rock. The bar itself is mostly open with just one low partition in the corner, screening off an area with a narrow table and benches. We found out that the current landlord had taken over the pub from his father, and has kept it unchanged; he gave us each a Guinness label as a keepsake, left over from the days when his father had a license to bottle Guinness on the premises.

Before we left McKee’s they asked about the rest of our itinerary for the day, advising us that our next planned stop – Quinn’s (100 yards up the hill) – was well worth a guided tour. Sadly there wasn’t time for this, but we did call in for a look round. There’s a tiny snug by the entrance labelled “off sales”, a very pretty tiled counter, and a pleasant – though not spectacular – wooden bar-back. The bar itself is quite sparse but there’s a modern room further back with a large inglenook fireplace. The yard to the side of the bar – another old coaching area – looked impressive, but by this time we were too hungry to chat with the staff, and moved over the road to the highly recommended Dragon House Chinese Restaurant (thanks to the lads in McKee’s), where we had a superb meal based on local produce; costing just £33 and leaving both of us feeling very replete.

Our final stop in Dungannon was McGrath’s, an unspectacular but pleasing bar with comfy leather upholstered seating arranged in bays, a nice piece of internal stained glass, and a wooden bar back incorporating firkins. The bar leads into a lounge area, then to a further lounge, and finally to a tastefully arranged smoking area. There are some lovely mirrors in the second room, but the main bar is the most interesting bit of this pub. You can probably guess which dark drink they sell.

From there we rushed back to our hotel in Belfast, so we could walk to the Bridge House – a Wetherspoons in which Andrew hoped to find more of the Titanic Iceberg. He was unlucky though; the Titanic and one other beer went off just as we got to the bar, leaving just Robinson’s Old Tom (8.5%) and Greene King Abbott on, with no sign by any of the bar staff that they might be putting any other beers on any time soon. He tried a half of the Old Tom but I couldn’t face anything that strong, so I had a Newcastle Brown. I definitely got the better part of the deal, as the Old Tom was in poor condition, and the measure was short (some of the pint measures being served to other people at the bar were woeful). It was interesting people-watching at what appeared to be the local students’ pulling night, but otherwise it was not really worth the five-minute walk from the hotel in the rain. Feeling rather disappointed by the lack of ale, we soon found ourselves back at the Crown yet again, sharing a booth with some Polish nurses and Brummie tourists to finish off an almost excellent day (apart from all the Guinness).

Belfast has improved a lot over the last few years, a few signs saying “no stag or hen parties” outside some pubs showing how things are changing. The beer is almost at London prices, but the “craic” and live music can be very good. It’s a shame that some of the GBG listed pubs don’t always have real ale available, but the Hilden’s and Whitewater ales are well worth seeking out.

Sophie (with assistance from Andrew Frape)

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