“What’s your cheapest pint o’ beer?” I asked out of curiousity in a popular Dublin pub last Thursday.
“Um,” said the pretty bar girl, “We have Heineken at €5.”
“Three Heinekens it is.”
What other choice did I have? After three weeks abroad in Europe, it hit home hard that this country does more ripping off than a sexual frustrated bloke in a beer mat cupboard.
Since landing back in Dublin it’s been a non-stop rollercoaster ride of futile anger at stupidly expensive prices. Just how can the Italians charge €6 for a litre carafe of gorgeous local wine, while a pint of Guinness in a boozer just five minutes walk from the Dublin brewery costs almost €5? Earlier in the day I splashed out over a tenner for average pasta, a few paltry meatball things, and some tomato sauce. I was even told of an excellent pizza joint that charges €14 for a bit of dough with sauce and cheese on it.
“Great pizza and pretty cheap here.”
“Sounds good.”
So after a night in the capital I went to purchase my train ticket home. A one way ticket to Galway. A two and a half hour trip. It cost over €40. Yeah, maybe worth it to get out of Dublin. But over 40 quid? Don’t I already pay taxes for these services? And to rub salt in the gaping wound that is my empty wallet, I was charged over €2 for a cup of tea on board. Tea folks. That’s water and a tea bag.
It’s easy to lash out at caricatures of greedy businessmen, publicans, and politicians for what is often our own fault. This is a market and we have to the power to tell em, “Feck off. I’m not paying €5 for a pint of watery beer. I’m not paying €2 for tea, I’m not paying €11 on plain, pissy pasta.”
So let’s get started.
