The Rathgar is a pub on the crossroads in Rathgar village. It is also known as the 108 Rathgar, but when I was growing up in the 1960s it was called Murphy’s.

Murphy’s was the venue my parents drank in at the weekends when they lived in Highfield Grove. At some stage they started to drink there, I'm not sure when exactly but I remember it being the situation when I was growing up. They went every weekend, Friday Saturday, and Sunday nights, even some lunchtime sessions too.

It was the centre of their social lives. Mammy being Mammy, would sometimes feign disinterest. At around 9pm Daddy would often say 'Are you washing your face Missus? And they would head off walking up Highfield Road to the village.

To me Murphy’s will always conjure up memories of the people who drank there and their lives and lifestyles, not the building itself. There were lots of people they befriended there. And there was always some drama going on. They fell in and out with each other regularly. My Dad was very stubborn and could be easily offended and slow to forgive.

Among their drinking buddies and acquaintances were, Nancy and Joe (Nancy was my Godmother) Aunt Lil and Uncle John, Kathleen and Liam, Arthur, Mick, Mary and Margaret, Lucy Vincent and Kathleen, Gerry, Jimmy and Nancy Tom and Barbara, Olive and Les, to name but a few that they socialized with over the years.

There was a Christmas club. I remember one of the barmen coming to the house during Christmas week with the drink for Christmas in the big wicker basket on the front of his push bike. Daddy would have been paying a few shillings a week in the previous months.

The Christmas Raffle was another big event with bottles of spirits and turkeys and hams up for the winning. As a child I regularly went there with them on weekends in the 1960s. I became friends with daughters of my parent’s friends. Sitting with the glass of Mi-Wadi or Ribena and a packet of crisps or two!

Murphy’s was very basic back then, nothing like the pubs of today. Not quite sawdust on the floor but not far off. I remember the red leatherette seating, the browned paintwork from all of the smoking. Everyone smoked then. I also remember a square white press with glass panels in the centre of the 'lounge' that housed among other things jars of Bovril and a few bottles of brown sauce so presumably they must have served sandwiches of some discription but I have no memory of ever seeing food served in the early years.

In hindsight I must have been exposed to all sorts, but through a child's eyes I was completely oblivious to it. It was only in later years that I realised that among the group, there had been lots of issues and problems.

I have memories of going with them to visit some of them in later years in hospital on Sunday afternoons, a trip to Mary's in the Phoenix Park and another to the John of Gods in Stillorgan have always stayed with me. Dark scary places in my memory. We would not dream of bringing a child into a situation like that nowadays. But on the positive side there are so many wonderful memories.

Friendships, laughter, and lots of singsongs. Most weeks on a Saturday night the gathering moved from the pub to someone’s house and the party continued. It was often ours. Mammy sitting on the floor in front of the fire belting out her party piece songs. The drinks cabinet being opened to see what was left in the selection of bottles it housed.

At some stage when I was in my early teens, the building was renovated, and it was a completely different set up. But they kept going of course. A few of their friends died around this time and others joined.

As we had no phone in the house there was many the Saturday night that I would have phoned Murphy’s from a phone box in town, to talk to Dad to let him know that I was going to be late home. A trip to McGonagles or to the disco out in UCD.

In later years after I met Martin, we spent many nights there with them and their friends. In fact I think I first brought him to meet them there on a Saturday night. Neutral territory so to speak.

The upstairs lounge was a bit fancier, and it was usually a younger clientele. I have a memory of the day of my 21st birthday that involved drinks upstairs in Murphy’s with Martin and one of my workmates - (you know who you are!) followed by a chicken curry that didn't end very well but that's for another story!

My Dad didn't like the upstairs lounge so it was always the same location, down to the same seat/corner if they could get it. They usually did, the corner under the television.

After our kids were born we used to go over on a Sunday at lunchtime for a couple of drinks before going back to Mams for dinner. It's really hard to believe that there was no such thing as 'Drink Driving'. I have memories of Claire sitting playing at the wooden table with her dolls, Eoin in the buggy drinking tea from his bottle. When they got a bit older Daddy would bring them to the shop around the corner for sweets.

Mam did a great Sunday dinner and it always amazed me that she managed to have it on the table in what seemed like just minutes after our return to No.10.

On a Sunday they would have gone to 12.30 Mass in the Three Patrons Church in Rathgar before going to the pub, with Dad checking his watch every few minutes if the priest was slow. “His dinner's going to be burnt if he doesn't get on with it” he used to say. The pubs used to close from 2pm to 4pm back then (The Holy Hour) so it was essential that he got to the pub by 1.40pm at the latest to get the order for the two rounds of drinks in.

Another memory of Murphys from those days was that it was a serious horse racing pub. On a Saturday, the racing blared from the T.V. Crowds of men gathered around it with clouds of cigarette smoke billowing above them. A 'runner' from the bookies around the corner was a common sight.

Daddy backed a horse on a Saturday, but he would never tell you what it was. You'd only know he'd won anything if he bought an extra round.

After Daddy died in 1995, we brought Mam there some nights. At this stage, a lot of their friends had died so it was all completely different obviously. She also went the odd night with neighbours, but it was never the same for her without Daddy.

For her 80th Birthday we had a dinner/party for her upstairs, which was by then a restaurant. She was starting to fail a bit by then, but we are very glad we had that night.

Eoin moved to Finland earlier this year. He had been living in Harold's Cross before he left and had taken a few trips to 'Murphy’s' for old times’ sake. He told me that it was a Gastro pub, specializing in Craft beer, though they did still serve Guinness thankfully. My Dad would be turning in his grave if there had been none. He would have had no time for fancy beers. A few pints of Guinness with sometimes a Jameson chaser was his tipple of choice.

The pub appears to have changed hands a few times and opened and closed for periods over the years. The 'upstairs' is gone now and replaced by apartments. The whole building was reconstructed in 2010. A look at the website shows that it is now run by The Galway Bay Brewery who run a chain of Craft beer bars around the country.

A Google search tells me that the whole building is currently for sale for 2.2 million. The internal photos show a greatly changed place. But in some ways, despite the huge renovation and changes, looking at the photos still bring back memories of the happy times spent there.

It's such a difficult time for bars and restaurants due to Covid. Let's hope that 'Murphy’s' manages to survive. And hopefully, some time in the not too distant future, we too will go visit for old times’ sake.