Bang-All in Banagher Means Great Fun

By George Houde
Irish American Post Chicago Bureau

In Banagher, a fight was spilling out onto the sidewalk in front of J. J. Hough’s Pub and the spectators who gathered were unfortunately blocking the door, barring our way into the well-known watering hole. 

But it seemed only a mild tussle, with a lot of pushing and shoving and drunken bluster rather than any viciousness to it and as soon as an opening showed, we ducked into the pub to acquaint ourselves with the local scene. We were, after all, a group of American travel writers on a River Shannon boat cruise and it was our duty to investigate popular locales and side trips. We had tied up at the public dock that afternoon and decided to try Hough’s for a small-town Irish evening. 

Inside, a local musician was punishing an upright piano and singing lustily into a microphone. She looked like somebody’s grandmother, her blue hair swept up into a knot on her head. Pints of Guinness and Smithwick’s were flying from the bar in a blur of hands and cash. Laughter and loud conversation were crescendo-ing around in a symphony of spirited Irish friendship. 

J. J. Hough’s is a place where the locals of Banagher congregate to drink, socialize and sing. On a Friday night in mid-September it was packed. It had been recommended in our Shannon Trail guide as "A great pub, full of character -- dirty, dark and extremely popular!" 

Popular it was, but not nearly as dark and dirty as it might have been, since Ireland’s ban on smoking in pubs and restaurants had made the atmosphere miraculously clean and nearly wholesome. Only a few people were craning their necks to check on the Friday night fight, one of them Michael Hough himself, the owner, who looked as if he were quite comfortable on either side of the bar.

We managed to grab a corner table underneath a framed picture of the Manchester Martyrs and make ourselves at home. Next to it was a photo of Michael in a younger day, surrounded by a group of German tourists who had sent it to him as a remembrance. Truly, we thought, we are in one of the many hearts of Ireland. We managed to get the attention of a young man who had been behind the bar. He was John Hough, son of the owner. 

"We don’t see many Americans here in the Midlands," said Hough. "They go to Dublin and Kerry. But this is the heartland, with real people and real entertainers. People don’t know what they’re missing."

Hough’s grandfather bought the pub in the 1960s and the family has run it since. Hough the younger has a master’s degree in music technology and works in Dublin, commuting back to Banagher on the weekends to help run the pub. 

A busy town on the River Shannon, Banagher is caught in the changes that began sweeping Ireland in the 1990s -- economic growth, job opportunity and population growth due to immigration. Hough said Europeans from economically distressed countries have moved into Banagher, causing friction. Many of them do not speak English, let alone Gaelic. One example was the fight at Hough’s, where insults had been exchanged between a young Latvian man and some locals, according to Hough. 

"The Irish economy is good and foreigners can get jobs here," said Hough. "My brother was trying to teach a Polish guy English here in the pub the other day."

Tensions have been rising between newcomers and natives, he noted, as communications remain a problem. 

Besides the action at Hough’s, Banagher is known as the home of The Vine restaurant, a very good eatery where we had stopped earlier in the evening, dining on filet mignon, fresh salmon and a host of good appetizers. The restaurant has received the James Joyce Award for being an Authentic Irish Pub, the plaque of which adorns a wall at the bar. That was where we met Doug and Audrey Thompson, he originally of Yorkshire and she of Dublin, now of Jersey Channel Islands, enjoying cocktail hour. Like our troupe of travel scribes, the couple was taking a cruise on the River Shannon.

"I love it absolutely," said Audrey, whose brother Gary Thomson, lives in Boston. "I’d do it again. It’s a must."

She noted that her maiden name was Thomson and, yes, it was unusual to marry someone with almost the same last name. The couple did share one unsettling story and that concerned an attack on a boat tied up at the public dock in Athlone just in front of them. A group of drunken youths began jumping on the boat and had to be fought off by the Dutch couple who were aboard. The Thompsons said they stayed up all night to protect their boat from a similar incident. Audrey said Athlone was a big city and there are risks in urban areas. Still, the incident didn’t dampen their enthusiasm for the river trip.

"It’s been beautiful," said Doug. 

By daylight, Banagher bustles with farm traffic, people going to the grocery and construction projects.

"It is a busy town," said Katherine, a cashier at one of the local supermarkets. "It’s growing rapidly, thank God."

At the top of Keeraun Hill looking down into the center of Banagher, Mary Langtry, a lifelong resident, said, "We call that Galway down there at the bottom of the hill where the big houses are. There’s always been tourists there."

It is a picturesque town, capped by a large Anglican church and a Catholic one as well, and just down the hill a monument to Staff Captain James McCormac and Company Captain Peter Barnes of the Irish Republican Army, "who, for love of country, were executed by the British government at Winson Green Prison, Birmingham, the 7th of February, 1940."

This small reminder of the wounds between Ireland and England was erected in 1963 by the Barnes-McCormac Memorial Committee, but much of the story seems faded from public memory. Neither Mary nor Katherine could say just what happened.

"There was a small uprising," explained Katherine. 

And it was in the last century. Things have changed in Banagher and boatloads of German, Irish and, yes, English, tourists are tying up their craft at the public dock and walking into town to catch the good food at The Vine and the music at Hough’s, where, incidentally, Michael Hough is checking on the altercation outside. The local constabulary has arrived, a single garda in a small patrol car, and he has the situation in hand. Michael began shooing customers out as it was closing time. 

"Well, I hope you all had a good time," he said. "Please come back."

We left, hoping that some day we could.