Bugged

There are many bars on this planet, and I'm sure that a disproportionate amount of them are in Ireland. We didn't arrive by chance to our reputation as a nation of drinkers. There are many things that go into making a great pub, and none of them fit into an easy formula. A great tavern can't be created - it's an eccentric creature, a thing to be cherished and shared with a select few. You don't want any of the multitude langers, poseurs, and wankers hearing about it and ruining everything. The Railway Tavern in Camp, Co. Kerry, Ireland, West Europe, Planet Earth is a one such place, ( I am only publicizing it because it is already well known). That increasingly rare and endangered species: a fantastic, eccentric, one-of-a -kind, never-to-be replicated, pub. Its owner, Mike O'Neil, is more than a mere publican. He is a breeder of singing Jack Russell’s, a fan of the ZZ Top school of hairstyling, a man with a PhD in interesting small talk, and, more to the point, an all round nice bloke with a kind welcome to all comers. He is also a devotee of the cult of The Beetle. A man after my heart. I once owned a Gold 1975 Super Beetle, and to this day regret selling it. Mr. O'Neil's bar manages to display a dazzling amount of Volkswagen memorabilia without ever being obvious about it. There are several old Volkswagens outside the pub, the Beamish Bug pictured above being one. The aforementioned Beamish is an Irish stout, a competitor of Guinness, albeit with a tiny market share. It is brewed in San Francisco's sister city, Cork. Like San Francisco, Cork thinks it is much bigger and more important than it really is, and like San Francisco, it is built on several hills with a beautiful hinterland. Every second Irish person in San Francisco seems to be from Cork. Anyhow, I converted to Beamish from Guinness while going through a particularly impoverished phase in college. Beamish ran a campaign where they sold a pint for 1.25 Irish punts. This meant one could get four pints for a fiver. That was a cheap buzz even back in those pre Euro days. In Dublin, these days, you'd be hard pressed to find a pint for five Euros.