The Welcome Inn

Woah.
Sit down. Hold onto your horses. All of them. Make them sit down, too. This is a tough one.
This is it. This is possibly the best, dingiest pub in the history of the multiverse. A miracle of modern pub research and a labyrinthine tangle of paradoxes and contradictions.
You enter the pub.
This place is one large, open room and it is almost completely empty. There’s a single barfly minding his own business at the bar. He’s smoking. You panic. Are we still in Ireland? Calm down. There’s a «No Smoking» sign over there. It’s right beside the poster explaining the smoking ban. The poster mentions a new law that’s being introduced in 1996. You panic again. You remember that time next week, when you accidentally stepped into a time machine. Hold on… Has that happened yet?
Despite being deserted, there’s a huge stack of dirty glasses on the bar. It’s a beautiful, sunny day outside, yet your eyes are still adjusting to the darkness of this pub. You contemplate running away to the nearest beer garden. Fortunately, you decide to stick this one out. How is it this dark in here? The lights are on but the bulbs are older than Queen Elizabeth II and dimmer than Brian Cowen. The ceiling is impossibly high and would scare off anyone who suffers from reverse-​acrophobia. So high, in fact, that the tallest person in the world couldn’t touch the ceiling even if he was standing on the shoulders of the second tallest person in the world while wearing stilts.
Don’t look at the wallpaper. It’s too delicate to be seen by the eyes of mortals. It simmers in the corner of your eye but defies definition when you look directly at it. It must have cost an absolute fortune at the turn of the last century, which caused the owner to scrimp on the cost of the rest of the décor. The tables are a disaster; Manufactured for pennies and salvaged from a skip outside an underfunded primary school. I’m amazed they can hold a drink. The chairs aren’t any better. Each piece of furniture is identical to the last — which makes it really difficult to find a seat; There are millions of tables, stretching off into the horizon but none stand out as being better than any other. Where do you sit? You can’t sit too close to the bar, as that might be crowding the only other patron. Conversely, you can’t sit in the far corner as that might seem inhospitable. Also, it would take hours to walk there.
You step up to the bar to order a round. The barman is nowhere to be seen. The other fellow at the bar looks at you, puts out his cigarette, takes a mouthful of beer, stands up and moves to the other side of the bar.
«What’ll it be?»
You are now the only customer.
The drinks are exactly what you expect. Nothing special. You leave the pub with a new outlook on life and a slight feeling of elation. Everything is a little bit brighter now (but that’s probably just your eyes adjusting) and you realize you can never return for fear that the experience won’t live up to what just happened.

A short walk from the top of O’Connell St in one of the most multi-​ethnic areas of Dublin, the Welcome Inn is a little bit of old Ireland in the middle of the city. The pub is best experienced in the flesh but the phrase «out of time» springs to mind. Large but not unappealing, upon entering memories of various rural outposts come to mind. This is definitely one for those ‘in the know’, streetwise city dwellers, those of an artistic disposition and the ubiquitous students file through its doors. The lack of frills only adds to the authenticity of the experience, it’s only a pity it’s never that busy. To all intents and purposes it’s a one-​man operation so keeps odd hours, but keep checking — it’s worth it.

Don’t be put off by the exterior, it may look like it has closed shop but thankfully it hasn’t because it is a real gem. Opening times vary, as in, the owner opens it when he feels like it, again adding to its character. Inside it is a time capsule set in 1960’s. It is actually very big inside. There is tacky wall-​paper and furniture and fittings that have not moved since the 1960’s. Sitting at the bar you will find some regular bar flies. The crowd is mixed, a combination of an artistic crowd with northside locals. There is the usual selection of beer on tap and a great selection of bottled beers. Prices are on the cheaper side of wall. The bartender is extremely friendly and the atmosphere of the pub is relaxed and vintage like it’s self. It really is a great spot for a good chat and a nice pint.

A perfect place!