7 Bridge St, Cushendall, Ballymena BT44 0RP
There’s a story for nearly everything in the most famous Victorian bar on the Antrim coast, The Central in Cushendall. An example is the tale of the Cushendall man who recently was on holiday in Germany, and quite by chance was leafing through a glossy German magazine. He couldn’t believe his eyes when, looking proudly back at him from the page, was the exterior of the Central Bar. Apparently a German journalist holidaying in Northern Ireland had taken the photo just the previous month for his magazine.
The four snugs also have a story to tell. They were installed back in 1883 when the bar first opened its doors, and were a popular private place for dealers at the weekly fair to clinch deals. Since then they had been removed by a very straight-laced proprietor who found two hitch-hikers using one for some discreet hanky-panky, and promptly pulled out all four to prevent a recurrence of anything improper.
They lay for twenty years in a farm shed, intended for use as cow-byre stalls, and to be cut up to make tables, but thankfully the present owner rescued them from such desecration and has replaced them, albeit minus their doors.
Ask next about the beautifully designed, woodwork-leaf patterns on the front face of the bar-counter, on the American pine showcase, and the inner porch of the main entrance, and you’ll learn that all this is the work of the same hand that designed the elaborate wood-carvings in Kilranney Chapel.
Even the fine wooden beading round the large wall mirrors has a story to tell in its motifs, the story of the passing of the four seasons.
The large lounge bar at the back is the habitat of the greyhound fraternity in the town, as is clear in the two large greyhound-scene paintings seen on the walls, and more amusingly in the signs on the doors. The private staff entrance is marked ‘OWNERS AND TRAINERS ONLY’, and you’ve guessed it, the toilets are designated ‘SIRES AND DAMS’. The owner was going to mark them ‘DOGS AND BITCHES’ but that would have made yet another story.
YOU’RE DRUNK
When your heels hit hard When your head feels queer, When your thoughts rise up like froth on beer, When your knees feel weak and your voice grows strong, You’re Drunk old Man, you’re Drunk.