The Enniscrone Hat Trick: A Pub Crawl

We were able to bump-up our tee time from the original 4:00 to just after lunch and had a bit of a window in between the rain—for the first 90 minutes, at least. It also gave us time for a well needed stint on the range, and I was able to fix a few kinks in my swing. In fact, the last three rounds we played in Ireland included practice ranges—not always a guarantee.

The last conversation I had before Scooter and I were on the tee, was with a black retriever that had a penchant for frisbees—golf was not his bag, rather frisbees. His Dad gave us a few pointers on the course and some of the holes.

We had a wonderful round and stroll on Enniscrone, and played behind the Aunt and Cousin of the LPGA star, Leona Maguire. We had conversations with her on few back-nine tee boxes when play slowed down. On the 13th, she showed us her torn and ripped rain gloves which she had only used twice. When I looked at them, they were shredded, and I noticed that I had the same brand—it is well known, and one of the two words is an appendage.

We had just done battle with mother nature, and it tested our new rain gear for the first time in Ireland. We arrived at the 19th hole bone-dry and had our customary post-round Guinness. It took all of two minutes for the group of Irishmen at the end the bar to strike-up a conversation—we obviously stuck-out like a sore thumb. It must have been our Yankee dialect. One of the many things I love about playing golf in Ireland, is wherever we played, the members of the club loved to get feedback on their home course: likes, dislikes, where else we played, where we should play, and most importantly, will we come back?

Our answer was a resounding, YES!

We went back and forth for quite a while. Turns out that they were headed to the States for their bi-annual trip to South Carolina to play Succession Golf Club. A couple of them peeled off and headed home for dinner. Padraic (pronounced “Par ick”) was the most outspoken, and would invite us to meet him downtown and he would show us his favorite pubs. My favorite of his rapid-fire one-liners:

“Do you guys play ProV1’s? You should, because we love to find them!”

What proceeded for the next few hours was the most off course, post round fun that we had in Ireland. Or what I like to refer to as The Enniscrone Hat Trick. We stayed at the Ocean Sands Hotel & Spa, on Main Street, and all a 1 KM walk to the entrance at Enniscrone Golf Club. It was a terrific location and just happened to be steps from many restaurants and pubs that lined a half mile stretch that defined downtown Enniscrone. We began our Pub Crawl with a left turn out of our hotel and one hundred feet away.

The first stop was Gilroy. We had dinner at the downstairs, ‘white tablecloth’ spot, French surf ‘n turf restaurant Ait Elie the night before. Scooter had the pan-Fried Hereford beef medallions (served on a piping-hot skillet) and I opted for the mussels and frites—se magnifique!

Little did we know how good the authentic, traditional pub upstairs was. As we came in and turned right to Gilroy, instead of left to Ait Elie, we simply rounded the corner turned left at the bar, and there was Padraic waiting with three bar stools—it was only a four-stool bar. He was chatting up the two young lasses behind the bar as we sat down.

Padraic is the kind of guy that could make gobs of money as a tour guide for one of the many golf tour companies. Silver hair, warm smile, and a quick wit. He seemed to be part Italian, as he could not utter a sentence without using his hands. His soft, thick Irish accent topped it off.

He would not let us order anything other than the fish ‘n chips, which bode well with Scooter. They were fantastic and the second best of the trip, only to the Harbor Bar in Portrush.

This conversation centered around the two lasses at the bar, their sisters and friends, who is dating whom, and who moved out of town. It was a lot of quizzing by Padraic. He was certainly in an information gathering mode. It was his own old-school, analog version of Facebook. It was at this point that Scooter commented.

“You should run for Mayor, Padraic, you pretty much have the pulse on what’s going on in this town.”

“Oh no,” he replied, “I know too many people.”

As we finished our dinner, and he compiled as much information as he possibly could, we left for our next stop, all of one hundred feet away—on the same side of the street.

It was after the dinner hour, and the pub was rocking on this Saturday night. It was a larger pub, with a wrap-around bar, many tables and booths, and quite a few strategically positioned televisions. It was a Norm-entering- Cheers-like welcoming as we walked in. A few of Padraic’s friends waved him over to a large L-shaped booth in the front right corner of the pub. It had a strategic view of the large screen to the left, and bar next to it.

After a few introductions, and others coming over to harass Padraic, we settled in. Everybody was focused on a Gaelic Football telecast, and it was getting raucous. Almost like there were some serious wagers going on the bar. They all tried to give us a lowdown on the rules, and what was happening.

Gaelic Football uses a round ball (versus oval in rugby), allows hand-passing and requires players to bounce or "solo" (kick to their hands) the ball every few steps. It scores three points for a goal (under the bar) or one for a point over the bar-like a field goal in Football. The other difference seemed to be that it was not as violent, on the tackling as rugby, thus they did not wear as much gear and padding.

We enjoyed it, and I am looking forward to going to a live game next time we go to Ireland.

The other thing I noticed was the impressive music that they played at Pilot Bar—from The Rolling Stones’ Gimme Shelter, Supertramp’s Take the Long Way Home, Fleetwood Mac, Steve Winwood, to Tom Petty’s American Girl, and The Band’s The Night They Drove old Dixie Down. It reminded me of when Scooter and I were at The St. Olaf in Cruden Bay, and a Rock ‘n Roll party broke out on a Friday night.

After a while, Padraic seemed gassed and was ready to head home. He suggested that we finish his pub crawl and go across the street to B. Hopkins for a nightcap. The streets were abuzz by this point, the sun was setting, and people were filling the sidewalks, enjoying Saturday night.

It was a smaller gathering spot than the others, with a front room and bar where everybody was standing, enjoying their cocktails and beer, but also had a nice front patio with picnic tables. We met an American couple on holiday, and shared our travels, and highlights on where to go. They were headed back North and over to Belfast and Dublin, where we had started our tip.

I later figured out why Padraic pointed us to this pub. Rumor has it that Hopkins is a highly rated traditional pub in the travel circles and famous across Ireland for its exceptionally well-poured pints of Guinness, often considered among the best in the country. The only other time I had heard this was from an Irishman (James, our driver in Dublin/Malahyde, who was a member of The Island Golf Club) telling us about Jack White’s Pub. It is near Brittas Bay, south of Dublin, and was nicknamed The Widow Bar, after the owner was murdered by his wife.

As we finished our whiskey’s, we thought we would head next door to the gelateria, but no go. What? On a Saturday night? Oh well, the Irish must be morning and early afternoon gelato-consumers, just like the Italians. Next time.

We we put our trust in Padraic, and he delivered. That has been the motto that I live by. When in a foreign Country, rely on the locals to guide you to the right places--they want you to enjoy their turf! Do yourself a favor and try out The Hat Trick the next time you are in Enniscrone or anywhere near County Sligo.

Cheers, Old Tam