Paddy McNaughton's

You may have already come across the story of Patrick McNaughton. In the early 1800s, he was shipped halfway around the world for stealing an orange. Deported from his homeland of Ireland to Australia, a couple of decades later he escaped over the ditch to New Zealand.

Two centuries and many great ancestors later, a pint-sized pub has been created in his honour in central Christchurch. Paddy would feel right at home here in the 21st-century rendition of an old Irish ale house, and not just because it’s his namesake. At Paddy’s (the namesake, not the eponym) the journey back is instantaneous; from the woodchips scattered across the floor to the beverages on tap - Guinness, Magners or Two Harps – it’s the closest thing to a Dublin pub this side of the equator.

Stepping across the threshold there’s a lot to take in: the smell of the woodchips underfoot, black and white photographs of Paddy himself, plus other infamous Irish folks, covering almost every inch of the timber-panelled walls, old books and trinkets spread across the mantelpieces - all crammed into the tiny ground floor space of the historic Shand’s Building. An antique till and wooden tap pulls are centre stage in front of the eight bar stools. Any additional standing space is framed by leaners, from the little to the lengthy, accommodating as many people around them as pint glasses that can fit on top. Like any true blue Irish pub, Guinness features on the drinks menu as well as the food.

A live band (playing Irish folk songs, of course) sees out the end of every week at Paddy’s. You’d think there’s not the floor space to fit such entertainment, but the organised chaos theme perseveres. At Paddy McNaughton’s it’s first come, first served – a taste of Old Ireland in a tiny taste of historic Christchurch.

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