For much of my adult life, pubs have been deeply important spaces. I couldn’t even begin to fathom how many hours I’ve whiled away in them, I wouldn’t even know where to begin figuring out that impossible equation, but it could easily be in the thousands. In fairness, through my student years, I worked in various bars and pubs, which weights the scales slightly, but I’ve never been one to refuse an opportunity to meet friends in the safe confines of a local pub. It’s only now, with a second child on the way, that I realise there’s a large pub shaped hole in my life, one that no quantity of Peppa Pig or Paw Patrol will ever fill.

I find it hard to express my love of pubs to Germans without sounding like I have some weird fetish, or a serious drinking problem. It’s not that Germans don’t understand why pubs are fun, they just seem less infatuated with them than most British people. For the British, the pub is an extension of home, especially for those who happen to have a “local” or a pub that they often frequent. The local can be round the corner, or it can be miles away, but what makes it local is the sense of belonging it conjures in the minds of regular drinkers. Moreover, in most cases “the local” isn’t some swanky establishment, where fashionable clientele sip colourful and expensive cocktails. For most British people, the pub should be first and foremost affordable, have enough seating, and if it’s a high-end establishment, a functioning open fireplace.

The closest I have come to the concept of “the local” in Germany is the Wirtschaft. These have the feel of the British local pub, and sometimes even have a fireplace, but despite the similarities, they aren’t a like for like replacement. One notable difference is the fact that when you enter most Wirtschafts, the server will hand you a menu. I’m not sure why I find this very simple process so jarring, but it instantly removes any comparison from my mind.

The local pub isn’t alien to Germans then, and many I’m sure have bars they go to regularly, but it’s rare to see the same level of affection metered out to a standard German bar. This could be for lots of reasons, but personally I believe that the culture of bars in Germany differs immeasurably. Part of this might be due to the prevalence of table service, which while convenient, tends to eliminate the community element that a good pub fosters. It might be a chore, but standing at a bar can create little moments of interaction with other drinkers, as well as with bar staff, which rarely happens when someone brings your drinks to the table.

When I speak to Germans who’ve travelled to the UK, they will talk about going to a “traditional British pub” which oftentimes simply means a normal pub. Where British people see normal pub furnishings, Germans see a wealth of British tradition, one that they consider specifically different from their normal pub-going experience. The British or the Germans may not be able to pinpoint exactly what that difference is, but there is one.

This is possibly why Irish pubs appear to be so popular in Germany, and across the whole of Europe. No matter where I’ve travelled throughout the country, I’ve found an Irish pub - even in small villages it’s perfectly possible to turn a corner and find somewhere named “The Shamrock” or “Finnigans”, usually decorated with numerous Guinness logos, and nearly always advertising live music. The very existence of Irish pubs suggests there is a clear difference between German bars and pubs in the British Isles.

While those from Britain and Ireland may see Irish pubs as the standard, Germans tend to find them somewhat exotic. Decorated as they are, with a variety of imported pub paraphernalia, they look different, serve different beers, and in the best ones, a range of food you’re unlikely to find in German bars or restaurants. Along with the decor, the atmosphere is quite different, which is due in no small part to the bar staff. Most German bar staff won’t look to sarcastically make fun of customers, unless of course they happen to know each other. This is not the case in most Irish pubs, where it’s perfectly possible to be faced with the caustic wit and a humorous back and forth of the bar staff as soon as you walk through the door, and regardless of whether you’ve actually been there before.

Irish pubs can be a blessing for British and Irish expats or migrants. They’re often a sliver of familiarity for the homesick and a potential chance at employment for new arrivals. When I first moved, it was to the Irish pubs that I turned when looking for quick employment. Although most will happily find work for the willing, it must be remembered that working in bars and pubs in Germany is not easy. Irish pubs especially are frequently found in and around central points such as train stations, which guarantee a steady flow of customers, but also ensures that they are some of the busiest pubs in any city. Although the work can be tiring, they are also a surprisingly good place for newcomers to hone their German skills with colleagues and customers alike.

However, along with the positives come the negatives. Irish pubs can be so welcoming, so friendly and inviting, that many new arrivals will cling to them like they’re alcohol-fuelled life rafts. Partially, this is because of the importance of pubs as community spaces in British and Irish culture, but also because they’re familiar. When you’re bombarded daily by cultural differences, it’s nice to retreat to somewhere that feels like home. This feeling can easily metastasise, and ultimately prevent British and Irish migrants from experiencing the variety of different bars and restaurants in Germany. There are some who will actively avoid them, while others will go further and ridicule those who happen to prefer Irish pubs to anywhere else.

Although I’m far from inclined to agree with these critical voices, I try to avoid Irish pubs as a rule for the reasons mentioned. That’s pretty easy given my pub going days are increasingly limited the more my family expands, but I must also admit there is some amount of joy to be found there. One of the great pleasures of living in another country is experiencing the difference, but that doesn’t mean punishing yourself for enjoying the familiar too. We all want to belong, to build our communities, and frankly there’s few better ways I’ve found than over a pint, no matter where that pint happens to be served.

Proofreader: @ScandiTina

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