The Village Pubs of Cork: 'If there was no pub here, there would be nothing in the village'

One pub remains standing in Dripsey, the village that once held the world record for hosting the shortest St Patrick’s Day parade.

Some 30 years ago, the village had three pubs: The West County, a small hotel that closed in the 1990s, The Lee Valley, which closed in 2007 and was recently demolished, and the one that still remains, The Weigh Inn, which was bought by the Feeneys when they moved there from Bishopstown in 1969.

In 1999, Dripsey made it into the history books when The Weigh Inn, The Lee Valley Inn, and the community came together and formed the world’s shortest St Patrick’s day parade.

It began at the Lee Valley Inn and made its way across the road, 26.6 metres, and in the door of The Weigh Inn.

It was a fun and novel idea, at a time when most village pubs were lively and held a community synergy between them. A feat perhaps more likely to succeed in the pub culture of the 1990s than that of today, a generation later.

Situated where the River Lee traverses the hilly farmland of mid and north Cork, The Weigh Inn, owned by Kevin and Helen Feeney, stands out along the windy main road. It’s bright, offers a beer garden, and it’s busy, despite the changes that have swept across Ireland’s drinking culture in recent decades.

Kevin, whose family took over the pub in 1969, remembers the days when the village could support multiple pubs. “They were all busy,” he says. “There was a bit of competition, healthy enough, I suppose.”

The Weigh Inn got its name from the time when Sunday anglers returned from fishing trips on the Lee, and weighed their catches out the back.

“All the city crowd would come out fishing,” Kevin recalls. “Whoever had the most weight would win the prize, maybe a Mickey Mouse cup or a teapot.”

Those Sundays are long gone, but the name remains as a nod to those days.

Entering The Weigh Inn today feels like stepping into another time. There’s no music most nights, no food menu, and no flashy entertainment.

There is a working fire in winter, a steady flow of pints, with banter; this is a community hub with familiar faces. It survives by remaining true to itself.

That’s not to say it hasn’t felt the pressure.

“It’s definitely gotten quieter,” says Helen. “There was a time you’d be busy seven nights a week. Now, it’s mostly weekends.”

Like many rural pubs, The Weigh Inn has had to adjust to the broader societal shift: people are drinking less, and more often at home. Rising costs, a crackdown on drink-driving, and a growing wellness culture have all played their part.

“If there was no pub here in Dripsey,” Kevin says, “there’d be nothing.”

For locals like Stephen Tobin and Darren Jennifer, the pub is still central to life in Dripsey.

“Everything is tied into the pub in some way,” says Darren.

“Even if you’re not drinking, it’s where you come to meet people you wouldn’t see for weeks. You can come in and Helen and Kevin are very good.”

Indeed, a walk through The Weigh Inn confirms Stephen’s observations: posters for bingo nights, charity raffles, and five-a-side tournaments; card games at the back tables; sandwiches passed around unexpectedly.

Whether it’s raising funds for the local school, supporting the local Tidy Towns group, or sponsoring the local soccer team, the pub is woven into the social fabric.

At Christmas, when emigrants return from overseas, The Weigh Inn becomes a space of reunion and memory. “We know all these people over the years,” says Helen. “Their families, their stories. It’s part of our life.”

Nationally, Ireland has seen a dramatic reduction in the number of pubs, especially in rural areas. From 2005 to 2022 alone, more than 2,000 pubs closed across the country, with small towns and villages hit most.

The reasons are varied and nuanced. Demographic shifts, increased home consumption, rising insurance costs, and tighter alcohol laws all contribute, while young people today often opt for cafés, or gyms, instead of the local bar stool.

And yet, village pubs like The Weigh Inn are surviving. They still offer what no app or supermarket can: genuine community, serendipitous meetings with friends, and a place where you are known.

Whether the next generation of Feeneys will take it on remains uncertain.

“Hopefully, one of them will,” says Helen, referring to their daughter, “but she’d need more than the pub to keep it going. Maybe accommodation too.”

For now, the fire is still lit in Dripsey on chilly nights. The cards are being played. The pool table gets a run. And on quiet evenings, sandwiches appear unannounced.

Sometimes, that’s all a village community really needs.