I just returned from a trip to a rural Irish pub, and the experience was an eye-opener. It was a cold and blustery night—just the kind of Gaelic reception you’d expect, and a perfect backdrop for some pretty riveting tales.

The little establishment is tended by Brendan, a likeable, earnest fellow. He’s a good listener and makes you feel very much at home—he calls these chilling gales “balmy,” just to make everyone feel better, I think.

While I was there, a big bloke, Jack, an auto mechanic by trade, came rambling in and filled the place with his presence—both physically and psychologically. He means well, but he has a few hang-ups.

Well, things started really heating up when a more successful guy, Finbar, entered with a newcomer, Valerie, on his arm. It turns out he’s married, but not to Valerie.

The locals all have some pretty spooky tales to share with one another, but the most haunting and moving turns out to be a real one by the newcomer.

The language has some rough edges and is a bit hard to comprehend at times, but effort pays off. These are odd and lonely people, but their stories are worth listening to.

Oh, I forgot to mention, you can get to the place pretty easily, and maybe have a similar experience. It’s called The Weir, and it’s currently at the Pewter Plough Playhouse in Cambria. It’s worth a visit.

-- Donald Archer - Cambria

-- Donald Archer - Cambria