The alarm shattered the silence at 5am, and by 8:40am we were airborne on the short hop to Belfast — a 50‑minute up‑and‑down flight that barely gave time for a sip of water before descending again. Belfast International was refreshingly straightforward, and within minutes we were on the airport bus heading into the city. Forty minutes later, after weaving through multiple stops, we stepped off into the drizzle and began the ten‑minute walk to our Airbnb.

On the airport bus into Belfast

Our base for the weekend was 29 Brown Street, just off the Shankill Road — a simple, clean room in a quiet residential block, perfectly located and within walking distance of most of the city’s highlights. By now it was 13:30 and hunger had become a pressing issue, so we headed straight to The Spaghetti Arms for chicken salad wraps and chips, washed down with a beer for me and a Coke for Mel. Basic, hearty, and exactly what we needed to fuel the day’s adventures.

Mural on Brown Street Shankill Road mural Colourful mural near the Cathedral Quarter Mel browsing the shops Chicken salad wraps and chips at The Spaghetti Arms

With stomachs settled, it was time to begin the pub crawl — and Belfast does pubs like nowhere else.

The Sunflower

Our first stop was The Sunflower, one of Belfast’s most iconic bars. Famous for the “No Topless Sunbathing” sign and its historic security cage at the entrance — a relic from the Troubles — it’s a pub that wears its heritage proudly. Inside, it’s all mismatched furniture, live music, and proper pints. We settled in with two creamy Beamish stouts, both absolutely spot‑on.

The Sunflower pub exterior Two pints of Beamish stout Mel enjoying a stout at The Sunflower

White’s Tavern

Next up was White’s Tavern, established in 1630 and widely regarded as Belfast’s oldest pub. Low ceilings, exposed brick, candlelit corners — it’s atmospheric in a way only centuries‑old pubs can be. We ordered Guinness and attempted to “split the G” like proper tourists. I won, naturally. We spent a lively hour enjoying the craic with the locals.

Guinness at White’s Tavern

The Garrick

From there we wandered to The Garrick, founded in 1870 and one of Belfast’s classic Victorian pubs. Dark wood, etched glass, tiled floors — the full heritage package. I had a Kilkenny red ale and a Smithwick’s, while Mel warmed up with two Irish coffees. Lovely place, though the barman looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Maybe it was his time of the month.

The Garrick, Belfast Inside The Garrick A pint of Smithwick’s Mel with an Irish coffee Irish coffee and a Kilkenny

The Mermaid Inn

We then stumbled into The Mermaid Inn, a proper old‑school boozer full of old boys watching the racing. No frills, no fuss, just good Guinness and the comforting hum of regulars who’ve sat in the same seats for decades.

The John Hewitt

Next was The John Hewitt, named after the celebrated Belfast poet and founded by the Belfast Unemployed Resource Centre. The pub was created to support community projects, and it’s known for its live music and craft beer. We mixed things up with a quick pint of Harp before moving on.

Craft beer menu board Evening crowd at the bar

The Duke of York

By now darkness was settling in and Belfast was coming alive. We headed to The Duke of York, and it was nothing short of magical. Tucked down a cobbled alley in the Cathedral Quarter, the pub is famous for its murals, neon signs, and walls plastered with vintage Guinness memorabilia. It’s one of the most photographed bars in the city — and for good reason. Mel stuck with Guinness while I enjoyed Murphy’s, my stout of choice. We spent a merry hour soaking up the atmosphere.

Mural near the Cathedral Quarter at night The alley leading to The Duke of York A pint of Murphy’s at the bar Inside The Duke of York, walls covered in memorabilia Mel with a Guinness under the Dunville’s Whisky sign A pint of Murphy’s stout Mel by the Dunville’s Whisky mirror Two pints of Guinness at the bar

The Dirty Onion & Yardbird

Our final stop was The Dirty Onion & Yardbird, housed in one of Belfast’s oldest buildings, dating back to 1680. Once a warehouse, now a buzzing bar with live music spilling into the courtyard, it’s one of the city’s best nightlife spots. By 8pm the place was bouncing — guitars, laughter, dancing, and a proper Belfast vibe. We stayed all night, bopping away, working through vodkas and cocktails, and eventually stumbling home in high spirits.

Neon sign: “There’s only seven types of rain in Belfast” Mural outside The Dirty Onion The Dirty Onion & Yardbird entrance Vintage Double Diamond sign inside The crowd inside The Dirty Onion & Yardbird

A full day, a full crawl, and a full immersion into Belfast’s legendary pub culture. The perfect start to the weekend.