That annual moment arrives when ancestry becomes flexible and everyone claims a faint link to Cork. For one night, even Bangkok tilts a little towards Temple Bar. Pints move swiftly, dark as the River Liffey, confidence rising with each sip. After two drinks, accents wobble bravely between Dublin and something entirely invented. Screens show sport, the bar hums with singalongs, and the playlist sticks to pub classics you pretend not to know by heart. Wear green if you like. Ignore the memo if you prefer. A splash of stout or an overenthusiastic cocktail likely sorts that out anyway. It’s easy, unpretentious fun: friends gathered close, strangers bonding over shared choruses, tomorrow’s productivity quietly sacrificed for tonight’s stories.
March 17. Free. The Old English Bangkok, 7pm-10pm