From Galway to Kilkenny

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Castles, pubs and a standoff with the Yanks

Today’s adventure began with the noble task of leaving Galway behind and heading east to Kilkenny. The plan was simple: a stop in Athlone, where history promised us a castle and Guinness promised us Sean’s Bar — officially the oldest pub in Ireland, complete with its own whiskey. Naturally, only two of us are insured to drive the rental car, which meant one thing: the ancient Irish tradition of flipping a coin to decide who would be the day’s designated sober saint.

🪉Athlone: Castles Closed, Cocktails Open

Athlone welcomed us with… locked castle doors. Plan B was a swift pivot to Sean’s Bar just down the street. Unfortunately, we weren’t the only ones with that bright idea. Several coachloads of Americans had been air-dropped outside, marching straight into our pub.

We squeezed in but quickly learned that getting served was a fantasy. Why? Because the good people of Iowa, Ohio, and Texas were busy ordering… cocktails. Yes, cocktails. In Ireland’s oldest pub. I ask you: who does that? (Answer: the bloody Yanks do.) We departed before someone ordered a Piña Colada.

🪉Kilkenny: Less Tourists, Less Guinness Abuse

Arriving in Kilkenny was like stepping into an alternate Ireland. Less touristy, less noisy, and mercifully, fewer Americans. The B&B was charming, the late lunch in Langton’s restaurant delicious — though the Chilean wine was a questionable choice. Twice in one day, Ireland had betrayed us: first cocktails, now Chilean Merlot.

A drizzle greeted our afternoon stroll, but that merely served as divine permission to seek refuge in Kyteler’s Inn.

The Guinness here restored order to the universe.

🪉Of Towers, Stags, and Black Barrel Blessings

Three of us (not me) braved the climb up St Canice’s tower, because what’s a trip to Ireland without scaling something old and wobbly in the rain?

By evening, hunger struck again, and fate led us to Matt the Millers pub.

A solid meal, slightly disturbed by a stag party of grown men dressed as Super Mario characters shouting across the room. Mario, Luigi, and their mates did their best, but the food held its ground.

Wine, however, once again betrayed us — Chilean, again. One sip too many, and I left the glass unfinished. Redemption came in the form of a Jameson Black Barrel nightcap. Smooth, warming, and Irish through and through. Faith restored.

A five-minute walk in the drizzle returned us to our B&B. Tomorrow’s adventure awaits, but for now, an early night calls. After all, Kilkenny might have fewer Americans, but it still has plenty of pubs to conquer.

Here are a few other pictures of Kilkenny