Nobody really celebrates St Patrick's Day right in this city.
There are a handful of nominally 'Irish bars', but they're all a bit rubbish really: disappointingly inauthentic, and they don't make much of an effort to put on anything special for the big night. I remember going to meet a friend in Durty Nellie's (gosh, how authentic does that sound?!) on this night a few years ago and being greeted on arrival by a mediocre Filipino cover band bawling American Pie. Not the live music experience I would have chosen for an evening of getting in touch with my Celtic roots.
Oh yes, and draught Guinness costs a ridiculous 55rmb per pint (that's nearly twice as much as any other beer I drink out here, and 20 times as much as I usually pay for a bottle of the fine local product in a neighbourhood restaurant). No-one thinks of offering any discounts or special offers for St Pat's around here, I'm afraid. Although I'm not sure if there'll be any Guinness available this year anyway (I usually treat myself to a token pint or two on this night); I haven't heard whether the mysterious import embargo on the black stuff I mentioned a few months back has yet been resolved.
A St Patrick's Day with no decent bars and no decent music and no Guinness? It doesn't bear thinking about. I may cry......
No playmates either, it would appear. The Choirboy is busy entertaining his visiting family. And The Chairman is burnt out after a rather heavy last few days (his elder brother, now living just outside of Beijing, turns out to be even more of a wild man than The Chairman himself - and descends on us every other weekend like Attila the Hun, leaving us sleep-deprived, penniless, and brain-damaged). These are just about my only friends these days; certainly the only two with any Irish heritage.
And to cap it all, I have got myself landed with a teaching gig this evening. Evening teaching is never good; teaching a subject I know nothing about to a huge class of surly teenagers could prove to be a nightmare - for everyone concerned!
So, perhaps tonight, for the first time in several years (hmmmm, tries to remember: it could be the first time in about 20 or 25 years!) I may betray my Irish ancestry by having a quiet and abstemious night and retiring to bed at a respectable time.
Then again,........
4 comments:
Durty Nellie's was the pub where we had the party the night before E&S's wedding...
Well, given circumstances, I'm sure it was a fine party and all.
But how authentic is that, really?
When people are wound up to riot and have the Molotovs in their hand, I wonder why they don't head down to the nearest faux Irish place and burn that to the ground for us. 'Cos that would be too fucking 'helpful' for revolutionaries, I suppose.
It was pretty authentic I think. In a small town called Bunratty, in the shadows of the castle. Very famous boozer.
Unfortunately, Paddy's Day in the States is rank amateur night. To be generally avoided.
I suppose it's a chain. And in rural Ireland, any boozer is usually going to be decent, even if it does have a naff name.
I just can't conceive of a rural Irish boozer being called 'Durty Nellie's'. It's sad. It was probably called O'Halloran's or whatever until 10 years ago.
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