O'Shea's Pub Clonlara

Just what Shannon needed - another Irish pub. Because heaven knows we were running desperately short on those around here. O'Shea's Pub Clonlara sits there, smugly traditional, practically daring you not to enjoy its charms. And trust me, I walked in determined to resist.

The problem is, O'Shea's Pub Clonlara isn't playing by the rules of mediocrity that so many small-town Irish pubs seem to embrace these days. Where's the sticky floor? The perpetually grumpy barman? The sad bowl of stale crisps? Instead, what you'll find in this Shannon establishment is something annoyingly... authentic.

The first crack in my cynical armor appeared when the Guinness arrived. I'd ordered it purely for journalistic thoroughness, you understand. But watching the barman execute that perfect two-part pour with the patience of a monk and the precision of a surgeon - well, it was like watching your least favorite cousin suddenly reveal an unexpected talent for concert piano. You want to stay irritated, but you just can't.

Let's talk about that atmosphere, shall we? The live music isn't the usual cacophony of badly-played traditional tunes that make you wish you'd been born without ears. No, these sessions actually make you want to stay, which is deeply inconvenient when you're trying to maintain professional detachment. The musicians who frequent O'Shea's seem to understand that "traditional Irish music" doesn't have to mean "assault on the eardrums."

The locals, curse them, are genuinely friendly - not that artificial, tourism-board approved friendliness, but the kind that makes you accidentally spend three hours chatting about everything from hurling to hedge funds. They'll welcome you like a long-lost cousin, even if you're clearly not from around here. It's infuriating how quickly you'll feel at home.

And the pricing? It's almost offensive how reasonable it is. In an era where many pubs seem to think they're serving liquid gold, O'Shea's maintains prices that make you double-check your bill, convinced there must be some mistake. There isn't. They're just not trying to fund their retirement with each pint.

The outdoor seating area - because apparently they weren't content with just nailing the indoor atmosphere - manages to be both sheltered and social. It's perfect for those rare Irish days when the sun remembers it has a job to do, or for those who still harbor pandemic-era preferences for fresh air.

Groups are handled with an efficiency that borders on supernatural. I watched them serve a party of 25 senior citizens with the kind of smooth operation that would make military strategists take notes. Even more impressive? The regular patrons didn't seem put out by the invasion. Instead, they were offering song requests and sharing stories.

For sports fans (I'm not one, but I'm told this matters), they show all the important matches without turning the pub into a sports bar. It's a delicate balance that they somehow manage to maintain, like a circus performer juggling chainsaws while riding a unicycle - impressive, even if you'd never do it yourself.

Their takeaway service (yes, a proper Irish pub doing takeaway - what is the world coming to?) actually works. The food arrives hot, the drinks are properly packaged, and they haven't used it as an excuse to cut corners. It's adaptability without sacrificing tradition, which is harder to pull off than it sounds.

Speaking of tradition, the building itself wears its history like a comfortable sweater - not pristine and pressed for tourists, but lived-in and genuine. The wood is actually worn by generations of elbows, not artificially distressed by some designer in Dublin.

Here's the truly annoying part about O'Shea's Pub Clonlara in Shannon - it's exactly what it needs to be, where it needs to be. It's a proper pub that remembers what that actually means. It's not trying to be a gastropub, a nightclub, or a tourist trap. It's just being itself, and doing it remarkably well.

So fine, I admit defeat. If you're in Shannon and you're looking for a pub (and let's be honest, you probably are), drag yourself to O'Shea's. Just don't blame me when you find yourself canceling your evening plans because you've accidentally become part of an impromptu singing session with a group of locals who now know more about your life than your own family does. Some places earn their reputation, and O'Shea's, annoyingly, has earned every bit of its 4.8-star rating. There, I said it. Now excuse me while I go question all my other deeply held cynical beliefs.