A December Day in Limerick: History, Books, and Pubs
Visiting Ireland in December has become one of our favorite times of year. Now it is your turn. The winter months can be unpredictable. It’s best to keep an open mind and always have a backup plan ready in case you need to pivot.
We pre-booked a plane ride to Inis Mór from Galway for a day trip. A couple of days before we were set to go, reports of Storm Darragh approaching the west coast began to circulate, but we thought little of it. Unfortunately, the flight operators canceled our trip. That forced us on to plan B: find a city that could be reached by bus or train for a day trip from Galway.
Limerick, now Ireland’s third-largest city, traces its roots back to a Viking settlement in the 9th century. Its location on the River Shannon, at the lowest crossing before the river widens into the estuary and flows into the Atlantic, gave it lasting importance in Irish history.
Most famously, it was the site of the 1691 treaty that earned it the name “Treaty City.” Over the centuries, Limerick was held and contested by Normans, English, and Irish forces, and that layered history can still be seen today in the medieval walls, churches, and riverside landmarks.
Karen Relates: Kings John’s Castle
Once we arrived in the city, we stopped for coffee and sweets at a local shop inside the train station. With coffee in hand and history on our minds, we set out for King John’s Castle. It felt serendipitous because our Irish Studies course had just covered the medieval period, so as we explored the castle and read about the events that took place there, everything was still fresh in our minds.
Built over a Viking settlement on King’s Island in the early 13th century, King John’s Castle remains strikingly well-preserved for an Anglo-Norman fortress of its time. Rising over the River Shannon, it withstood countless sieges thanks to its clever defensive design.
Today, much has been invested in its preservation and visitor experience, making it well worth the stop. For me, the highlight was standing at the top, looking out across the river, city, and surrounding land stretching as far as I could see. I imagine the view was just as breathtaking centuries ago as it is now.
St Mary’s Cathedral
Our day continued with a visit to St. Mary’s Cathedral, which we had both been looking forward to, and had been strongly recommended. Established in 1168 under Domnall Mór Ua Briain, remembered as the last King of Munster, the site began as a Viking meeting place before becoming a medieval palace and later a house of worship. Today, located in the city’s medieval quarter just minutes from King John’s Castle, it remains open to the public and still serves as the Cathedral Church of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
Over the centuries, different additions have left their mark on the cathedral, showing a timeline of the city’s history. You can still see traces of Gothic and Romanesque design, marks from old cannon fire, and other small details that hint at the stories the building has lived through. It is even said that the last King of Munster may be buried here, a reminder of how closely the cathedral is woven into Ireland’s history.
When we arrived, after a quiet walk through the graveyard, we learned the church was closing early for a holiday concert. Candles glowed along the walkways and on tables, and at the front a string quartet was in the middle of rehearsal. The scene was beautiful, but we had only a moment to take it in before being hurried out with the visitors from Australia who had been inside with us. Looking back on this day reminds me of how special the visit was, and I’m already eager to return. Next time, I hope hope to linger longer, to wander at a slower pace, and to explore without feeling rushed.
Shannon Relates: Limerick
My understanding of Limerick is fairly limited, and most of my impression of the city has been shaped by Frank McCourt’s Angela’s Ashes. Because of this, I tend to associate Limerick with hardship and the struggles of Irish life. I should also mention that when a friend of mine—an Irishman—heard that Karen and I were planning a day trip there, he jokingly asked why we would want to visit “Stab City.”
Wandering a city on foot does come with a few inconveniences – wind in your face, nowhere to stash your finds, and feet that soon begin to ache. Yet, as Robert Louis Stevenson reminds us, “I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.”
The Celtic Bookshop
If Karen and I were not out just exploring the city on foot, we would never have come upon The Celtic Bookshop – Siopa Leabhar Ceilteac in Gaeilge. The little shopfront, trimmed with Christmas garland twinkling with lights, featured in its window an eclectic display of works by Irish writers.
This felt like yet another happy accident that Karen and I have stumbled upon during our travels through Ireland. Perhaps it’s a reminder that the most memorable discoveries are often the ones we’re not actively seeking.
As soon as I walked into the shop, I was greeted with one of my favorite smells – well-loved books. Towering piles of new and secondhand treasures occupied every corner. It felt like I was in a friend’s lived-in library.
The coldness of our December day was replaced with the warmness only an independent bookshop can supply. Pat, the owner, greeted us the instant we stepped inside.
Pat’s soft voice continued as we became acquainted with her shop. Pleasantries were exchanged and recommendations softly lingered. It was no surprise to find McCourt’s works well represented – after all, this was Limerick.
I pulled out a copy of Teacher Man, thinking it would be a cool purchase on account of this being McCourt’s birthplace. Pat noticed the book in my hand and immediately smiled.
She told us Frank often visited the shop and made it a point to visit when he was back in Limerick. She was the first person I had met in Ireland who spoke kindly of him, and I felt a quiet relief – along with a bit of joy – that this writer I so admired as an American was also cherished here.
Pat shared one of her most memorable moments in the shop. She recalled the day when one of McCourt’s books was displayed in the window and, suddenly, a single white feather drifted down from nowhere in particular. The moment stayed with her, though she only learned days later that it had been the very day Frank passed away.
Nancy Blakes and Mother Macs
Inspired by Pat’s words, Karen and I decided to see what we could of McCourt’s hometown. Of course, this meant stopping off in two pubs to enjoy what the town had to offer two weary travelers.
Our first stop was Nancy Blake’s. A Limerick institution, this pub was probably my favorite one to visit during our Christmas visit. There was nothing grandiose about this space, but the beautiful red glow from decorations afforded a luxury that cannot be bought. Small nooks and local laughter make this the perfect spot to take in a Jameson and ginger.
Before catching the train, we ended our Limerick pub adventure at Mother Macs, a place where conversation replaces televisions and the shelves are stacked with whiskey. It was the kind of stop that felt both lively and fitting for a final toast.
McCourt Walking Adventure
Maybe it was Pat’s story lingering in my mind, or maybe it was the three (or five) Jameson and gingers I’d downed, but suddenly the idea of seeking out McCourt’s Limerick seemed right. A quick Google search assured us we weren’t far from a few landmarks tied to his name.
In practice, the idea was better than the execution. With no clear directions and only scraps of online information, Karen and I drifted through streets and addresses, hoping to stumble across something familiar.
Perhaps we did tread along some of the same paths McCourt once knew. Hard to say. But I like to imagine Frank somewhere above, watching two American girls wandering Limerick with the best of intentions.
