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For those not familiar with the Emerald Isle, the thought of Ireland might bring to mind tired clichés, like shamrocks, pints of stout and leprechauns. But, in reality, Ireland is much more complex with a diverse nightlife scene to boot.

In fact, the face of Irish nightlife is changing, for the better or worse. That traditional Irish pub where you could sit at the bar, have a friendly discussion with a neighbor and listen to a "session" (traditional Irish music) is slowly fading into something more modern and young.

As Bill Barich points out in his novel A Pint of Plain, dance clubs are replacing the quietude of pubs in many parts of Ireland while the tradition is reserved for the tourists. But, even so, upon visiting Galway and a few surrounding areas, I was able to find a quality spot to have a pint – Shoot the Crows in Sligo. But it did take my friends and I a few nights to come upon this fantastic spot.

Our first taste of Irish nightlife in the west came in Abbeyfeale in County Limerick which is actually more mid-western Ireland. We stopped in this small town to meet a friend and discovered that the downtown area, which couldn't have been more than two square miles big, hosted nearly fifteen pubs and bars. It was hard to believe that such a small area could support such a large number of establishments but we soon learned that it was possible.

We first stopped for a few pints of Harp at McCoy's, a place that seemed to be half pub, half club. In the front, tables were nestled around a fireplace across from a long bar, which was a comfortable set up. But in the back, a DJ was spinning loud dance music as young people bounced around with drinks in their hands. By 11:00 pm (on a Sunday), the place was packed – the next day was a bank holiday so this particular night was probably more indicative of what Saturday night generally looks like. But a stop at two other bars along Main Street proved that the crowd was not restricted to just McCoy's. Both Murphy's and another pub across the streethosted their share of the crowds made up of people from the town and the surrounding countryside.

The following day, we arrived in bustling Galway, home to students but also a destination for tourists. And the pub tradition was strongly played up for the tourists who arrived in town by the droves. Whereas traditional Irish music in an Abbeyfeale pub was pretty unheard of (save a DJ playing a track from River Dance in Murphy's), bars lining Quay Street advertised their sessions – generally one in the early evening and another at night.

Tig Coilis, a crowded pub along Mainguard Street, drew us and several other tourists in with the promise of frothy stout and the sound of fiddles, banjos and melodeons. In fact, this spot was packed with tourists, some of whom even offered a bit of friendly conversation after we cozied into the back of the bar. But the pub closed at midnight and we poured out of the pubs only to be greeted by dozens of dance club promoters, offering free admission to a place called Central Park.

We accepted free admission if only to have another beer before bed. But the club was a bit of a disappointment. Trying a little to hard to set a mood, fog machines covered the interior in a haze and large, flat-screen TVs projected flashing images of animated hands fist bumping or cartoon disco balls (which competed with the actual disco balls). The beer selection was poor, featuring Heineken, Foster's and Budweiser (which is surprisingly popular across Ireland). And cocktails were overpriced. But with nowhere else to turn, we stayed until we were turned out onto the streets again.

It wasn't until Wednesday night that we really found our groove. We left Galway to stay in Markree Castle just outside of Sligo and, still craving a taste of Irish tradition, took a cab into Sligo proper. That's where we found Shoot the Crows, a bar that came highly recommended by a Twitter friend. And the recommendation was no mistake.

The bar was artful and cozy, with a great stain glass window featuring white doves against green and red panes of glass near the doorway. We appeared to be perhaps the only tourists stumbling in that night with the exception of a young man visiting his friend. And, even though this was a Wednesday night, the gentleman behind the bar (brother of Ishka, the owner) assured us that tourists didn't often find their way to Sligo, let alone Shoot the Crows.



Guinness in hand, we sat facing a group of three musicians positioned against the large red window. One by one, local musicians entered, instruments in hand, and added their own touch to the jam session. The songs ranged from foot-stomping rhythms, referred to as sh*t-kicking music by some of the locals, to heartbreaking ballads. The bar closed at half past 11 but the doors were locked and the music continued until all those playing had finished their drinks.

We didn't want the music to stop but we reluctantly returned to Markree with some fantastic memories and bellies full of Guinness.