Craic Agus Ceol

Our first night out in Chengdu had also been a form of research for our St. Patrick's Day venue, and the Shamrock Irish Bar fit the bill perfectly. We had no idea how may actual Irish would be there, but we did know from the numerous posters that the bar would be throwing a big 'aul shindig, appropriate for my first St. Patrick's Day outside of Ierland.

On the morning of the day itself I <>, and bumped into a young Irish couple (Conor (Kildare) and Hilary(Dublin)) who were holidaying in China. They were also planning on celebrating the day that it was in the Shamrock. So at least I knew there'd me more than the three of us celebrating.


Conor and Hilary

The festivities (drinking) commenced around six. By eight a Dubliner (Eoin) and an Antrim man (Adrian) had joined the ranks, along with Adrian's Welsh girlfriend Hannah, who was an honourary Irishwoman for the day.



Our numbers having swelled to eight, our festivites (drinking) really began to gather pace. Irish flag shots were being banded about, and the owner of the place generously gifted us with a free round of shots himself. I even sampled the Guinness, and to my surprise it wasn't that bad. I only had the one though – at 50 RMB (a little over €5!) it was outside my budget range.

The average band put on had an American lead who didn't know a single Irish song – a crime that we made him pay for by singing ourselves in between the songs of his set. To be far he did make an attempt at Dirty Old Town, singing the words off a sheet, but it was no match for our version (in our collective opinion anyway).

With more and more festivities (drin – ah you get it by now), the singing naturally progressed to the other way to show our Irishness – dancing. Once the band finished playing we took over the stage area, with Eoin whipping out a tin whistle seemingly from nowhere and laying down some excellent tunes he probably still remembered from 6th class. Next to his stage area on the cosy dance floor the scene was chaotic, with random acts of Irish dancing and arm-locked jigs bewildering the Chinese crowd that didn't realise what they had let themselves in for that night. After eventually figuring out we weren't going to hurt them some of them even bravely joined in, as up for the craic as we were.



With no closing hours in China, it's up to the individual pubs to decide how late they should stay open. The staff eventually got fed up with us at 5.30am, but not after John had managed to procure a stylish staff waistcoat after pestering a poor bar man for half the night. Having added a couple of Danes, the gang left the Shamrock and made our way into the crisp pre-dawn Chengdu air. We decided to get food, and made our way in two taxis to a restaurant that someone thought might be open. We did find somewhere, and the poor staff there had to deal with a gang of cheery Irish at an ungodly hour of the morning. The food was good, I think.



I had heard from others tha spending St. Patrick's Day abroad really brings out the Irishness in you – you feel it's your duty to show the locals what being Irish is all about. In that regard, the night was definitely a success, and the best Paddy's Day I've had in years.