How much is a pint of Guinness these days, anyway?
Over Paddy's weekend 2026, a friendly Northern Irish "woman" called Rachel rang 3,000+ pubs across all 32 counties to find out, from Donegal to Kerry, Belfast to Wexford. 2,052 answered. Over 1,000 gave a price. Only a handful seemingly realised Rachel was an AI voice agent. The result is the Guinndex: the first comprehensive pint price index for the entire island of Ireland.
"I'm a former pub and bar owner, so I know what it's like to be on the other end of customer pricing calls," said Cortland. "But I also know what it's like to be on the consumer end and paying a kidney for a pint. I apologise to everyone I tortured over Paddy's weekend. Rachel just wanted a wee drink."
What the data shows
The national average price of a pint of Guinness is €5.95. The most common price is €5.50. But where you drink matters enormously.
Dublin is the dearest county by a wide margin, averaging €6.75 a pint. The cheapest pints are in the west and midlands, with Laois at just €5.38. The gap between Dublin and the cheapest county is €1.37 per pint. The cheapest pint in the entire index is €3.00 at Glynn's Bar in Dunmore, Galway, although he may have just been taking the mickey. The most expensive is €10 at The Auld Dubliner, Dublin, which incredibly seems to be accurate.
Despite the rising cost of a night out, the Guinndex unearthed 12 places across Ireland where you can still get a pint for a fiver or less, including one in Dublin.
Dublin doesn't fare well on any measure. Of the 46 pubs in Ireland with a perfect 5.0 Google rating, not a single one is in Dublin. They're in places like Augher (Tyrone), Kilmakilloge (Kerry), and Rathdowney (Laois).
The CSO tracked pint prices from 2001 to 2011, then stopped. In the 14 years since, the price of a stout has jumped from €3.93 to €5.95 (+48%). The Guinndex fills the gap.
The reactions
Only a handful of the people Rachel spoke to seemingly realised they were talking to an AI agent. The calls produced dozens of memorable exchanges. When questioned, Rachel told them truthfully that she was putting together a wee price comparison list. Most people accepted that and moved on.
At Malzard's Pub in Kilkenny, the bartender laughed and offered to buy the round: "They're normally 6.20, but if you can't afford one, we'll buy you one. We'll look after you."
At Doogies in Northern Ireland, the bartender opened with: "Twenty-five pound. But if you're coming in for a wee drink, I'll give it to you for a fiver."
At McIntyre's Bar in Donegal, the bartender launched a full interrogation: "Five eighty. What time is it? How many are coming? Where are you coming from? What part of the country are you from? Who's this I'm speaking to?"
At Drumlane Bar in Cavan, the person who answered was in the kitchen: "I'm in the kitchen. I don't work in the bar at all." He went behind the bar to check. Five sixty.
At Beaufort Bar in Kerry, the bartender played coy: "It's far too cheap. You'll have to come in to find out the price." Rachel persisted. Five sixty.
At Buddy's Bar in Tipperary, Rachel asked the price. The bartender asked her name. Rachel said she was just putting together a wee price comparison list. "Fuck off." Fair.
At The Plough in Curraglass, Cork, the bartender refused to give the price no matter how many times Rachel asked: "You'd have to call in and I'll tell you." Rachel said she couldn't do that. "Ah, well done. You'll never know, though, will you?"
At The Linen House in Lisburn, Rachel got trapped in a Premier Inn phone system. Two AI systems talked past each other, neither able to help the other. Rachel said "Oh, dear" four times. The virtual receptionist kept apologising. Nobody got a pint price.
Pat Hayes, owner of The Arch Bar in Thurles, Tipperary, was one of the thousands of people who picked up Rachel's call over the weekend. When he later found out he'd been chatting to an AI, he took it in good spirits.
"It was a good laugh. I had no idea it wasn't a re...