Dublin – indeed, Ireland – is not over-endowed with glorious (or even ‘fine’) train stations. Having recently visited Antwerp, with its beautiful Antwerpen Centraal, well….we have no equivalent. Many (if not most) of our Irish train stations don’t even have a bar, much less anything on the continuum between the wonderful Stalybridge Buffet Bar in Greater Manchester to the renowned Peronas Travel Bar in Vilnius. Connolly Station no longer even has its own in-station pub, as Madigan’s – one of Dublin’s few pubs with an alleged ‘active haunting‘ – has now been closed for some months, with no indications of reopening any time soon, if ever.
Fortunately, for those waiting for their trains near Connolly, there are alternatives to the mid or absent train station pub, starting with Grainger’s Cafe Bar (aka JJ Grainger’s). Built in the 1830s – with the nearby railway bridge (and, naturally, station) appearing some decades later – the pub has been in the same family since 1928. And while the bar area itself is quite small, it’s well-formed: dark wood, bar seating and some cosy tables. And there’s even good beer – a nice selection that included Trouble Dark Arts (one of our favourites), plus Ambush, as well as Hope’s Underdog and their Paddy’s Barleywine, a real surprise. Add in a Rascals tap or two – and there was at least one working – and this may now rank as one of the finest independent beer lineups in Dublin, now that Underdog has, sadly, left us. Your usual Guinness and Heineken options were available, too.
The staff were also friendly and welcoming – how many pubs would put on the ‘Airwolf’ theme when asked to do so (not, it must be said, by us, but we did enjoy it)? And while it’s true that this part of Dublin still has a bit of a ‘reputation,’ something we’ve discussed in our entry on The Morris Bar, just a bit further along Talbot Street, the positive energy in Grainger’s is further evidence that things are, gradually, improving.
And in any event, a quick pint here before a train from Connolly has much more to recommend it than sitting there with a poorly-brewed tea – allow yourself a little bit of extra time to relax in the pub before heading into the station.
Where: 51 Talbot Street, Dublin
Access from the city centre: Buses 14, 15, 27, Luas Red Line, Luas Green, 20-ish minute walk
Food: Breakfast, pub grub
Sport: If they happen to be on at the time
TVs: A few screens here and there
Music: Top-class ’80s tunes on our visit, from Squeeze to Julian Cope
Family-friendliness: Early on, before a train? Why not?
Pub-crawl-ability: High – Molloy’s, Mooney's of Abbey Street, The Morris Bar, Kimchi Hophouse, MeMa's, The Sackville, The Big Romance, The Flowing Tide, The Palace Bar, Piper's Corner, JR Mahon’s, The Oval Bar, Urban Brewing, The Brew Dock, Mulligan's and The Confession Box; also not too far from The Silver Penny if you must visit a ‘Spoons
Local sites of note: Connolly Station, O'Connell Street, The Spire, The Portal, GPO, Busáras, Connolly Station, Abbey Theatre, Gate Theatre, NATIONAL WAX MUSEUM, Ha'Penny Bridge
Haunted: Can it take in the poltergeist from Madigan’s?
Other notes: Basement toilets – not ideal from an accessibility perspective
Socials: Instagram, Facebook
But all too often on recent visits, there are multiple taps out of service or perhaps not as fresh as they might be – a real contrast to years gone by when this was a destination for beer nerds for the variety and vibrancy of the beers on offer, both from Galway Bay itself as well as other independent brewers from near and far. And it does seem that Galway Bay are making some especially interesting seasonal, one-off and collaboration beers of late, so it’s a shame that they rarely seem to be highlighted here.
And to be clear, I haven’t had a bad experience here, but the pub does look and feel, well, tired. It’s possibly unfair to compare it to a brand-new Galway Bay pub like 
Sometimes, it really is all about The Socials.
And while you’re not really here for the beer – labelled moderately-pretentiously-but-it-works as ‘pale ale,’ ‘lager’ and ‘stout’ in lower-case cursive on gold tap towers – they are, for the record, the Changing Times pale ale, Birra Moretti and, of course, Guinness. But if it’s good beer you’re after, you can do what we did and stop off at 
This week’s pub is one that we’ve both been asked to profile repeatedly, and, in nearly equal measure, begged not to reveal it as a secret hidden gem. Is it possible to satisfy both of these audiences? Let’s find out – and so, we venture back to Marlborough Street, home to 
Also unlike many other Old Man Pubs, there was an independent beer option: Kinnegar’s Scraggy Bay. In some pubs that don’t have that kind of turnover for non-Guinness options, they aren’t always as fresh, but there were no such issues here. Guinness was, of course, plentiful, but there were many pints of lager being consumed, too – it is slightly unusual to see Tuborg on one of the taps in a Dublin pub, but I have a soft spot for many Carlsberg products, so it was quite welcome. The décor is, again, by no means fancy, but it’s very well-kept: red and cream paint, lighter wood tones and simple brass lamps on the bar. The crowd was clearly mostly regulars, and although most were deeply invested in the multiple channels of horse racing, there were other long-running conversations, too.
And while it may be true that this is not the cleanest nor most well-kept part of Dublin, that is presumably part of what keeps the tourists away, Georgian architecture notwithstanding. And although some parts of Reddit may be thoroughly convinced that we’re all just waiting to get murdered north of the Liffey, there are signs of positive development; newer pubs like The Morris Bar, just a short walk away, suggest that things are slowly improving. But for a pub like Briody’s that’s been here for over a century in various guises, it seems to be content to keep its current mix of regulars and semi-regulars who drop in whenever they are in town.
Edit again, mid-April 2025: Welcome to 
We’ll come back to his point about the people later, but at first glance, I had the same reaction – why on earth had what looked like an Oirsh pub been dropped into the centre of Dublin? While it’s true that there are Dublin pubs that cater more to the tourist trade than to locals (and not just in Temple Bar) that do dip into a more stereotypical ‘Irish pub’ feel, to tip over into what we might call Full Oirish seemed, well, unseemly. Unnecessary. Just a bit, well, naff.
While it’s still a small spot, the dark wood and low lighting add to the cosy feel, and the interior décor is very much ‘Easter Rising’ themed with images of the leaders around the pub, it doesn’t veer off into a theme park feel; indeed, given that the pub is steps away from the GPO, if the interior matched the exterior sign, it could easily career rapidly into the realm of the offensive. But – and here’s the thing – it does not! It’s quite nice! It includes portraits of many of the women involved – something especially notable if, like me, you’ve recently watched ‘Michael Collins’ for the first and only time, and wondered where the women were…but I digress.
Sometimes, just sometimes, a fantastic new(ish) pub pops up where you least expect it. Dublin’s Talbot Street has had a lot of publicity 
At that time, the shopfront that is now the pub was The Morris Wallpaper Stores, and the signage from that era has been preserved above the door. The theme continues inside, with framed William Morris wallpaper samples on the exposed brick, giving a mix of industrial chic and cosy early-20th century-pub vibes. There’s a pizza spot toward the back (check for opening hours, as these things evolve) with more communal-styles tables, but the seating in the main bar is much ‘pubbier,’ and very comfortable indeed.
There’s a good mix of the usual Guinness-and-friends offerings, but also a handy Rye River tap, as well as Beamish for the Corkonians in your life. The cocktail list is interesting as well. On our visit, the staff were all wonderful, and the attention to detail that went into the design of the pub is evident. It hits just the right mark of honouring the building’s past without feeling like a theme pub.
This week’s pub isn’t especially Christmassy, nor is it one I frequent, but it is one that appeals to tourists and locals alike, so here we are. The Confession Box’s claim to be the smallest pub in Dublin may not be entirely accurate, but it does have historic bona fides; mixing a bit of fact and myth is almost par for the course in modern pub marketing (indeed, also in historic pub marketing), so we’ll consider it part of the furniture.
But The Confession Box didn’t start out as a pub, and its 
Given the concentration of pubs in this part of town (and easy proximity to the Luas), it’s a good shout to include for a pub crawl; for those not afraid of the north side of the Liffey, there’s something for everyone in this area of Dublin.
I recently read Back to the Local, Maurice Gorham’s recently-republished guide to London pubs, initially written just after the Second World War. While there is much in the book that is fascinating to the beer history nerd, from drinks terminology to changing pub names and elegies for those lost in the Blitz, Gorham’s chronicling of the various ‘Irish houses’ was, naturally, of special interest.
Without diving into a full history of 
Even if it’s not, strictly speaking, the same Mooney’s that once had a relatively-expansive portfolio of pubs around the city (or, more accurately, cities), it’s no bad thing to see a nod to a historic name in a newer establishment. The current décor may seem a little bit staged as it’s just been tidied up, but, given time, it should gain a bit more of a patina; it does come by it honestly. Indeed, it’s a fine addition to this part of Abbey Street which can otherwise veer somewhat wildly between very staid and corporate and too run down for its own good – a lively, welcoming pub offers a useful anchor.
