“Two things that should never be brought into a pub are Politics and Religion.” That’s the opinion of Peter, who is the man in charge at Sally’s on Thorncastle Street, commenting on the call from the restaurant industry to lift the Good Friday ban on the sale of alcohol. “We’re living in the dark ages by upholding this rule.”
When NewsFour suggests that even more alcohol is sold the day before Good Friday, Peter replies, “The older generation come here as a social outlet. The pub is about more than alcohol to them. Anyway, if it’s supposed to be about fast and abstinence, why are the butchers still open?”
Fr. Fergus from St Patrick’s Church does not feel that a civil law is needed to keep reverence on Good Friday. “People will drink anyway and if they want to get locked out of their minds that’s their choice,” he says. “The Catholic Church asks that we observe this day of fast and abstinence, but we don’t need a civil law to do this, in the same way that people should know not to get behind the wheel of a car if they’re out of their minds drunk.”
NewsFour asks Mr Cabbage, who is drinking tea in Sally’s, if he welcomes the chance to have a break away from the pub for a day. “What, and have to spend the day with Mrs Cabbage?” he jokes. His friend Pat remarks that the tradition was to go to Donabate for the day, as it was the first mainline stop from Connolly Station (alcohol was available to purchase on trains). “The ticket sales for CIE were always up on Good Friday.”
While the Easter traditions have gradually become an integral part of what it is to be Irish, we have to feel sorry for the foreign stag parties who have chosen Ireland precisely for its good time rep, only to end up walking the streets of Temple Bar with what can only be described as a bewildered look on their faces every Good Friday.
Left-right: Sally’s regulars Mr Cabbage and Pat Byrne with Peter Doyle, manager of Sally’s. Photo by Maria Shields O’Kelly.
By Maria Shields O’Kelly
