What cultural etiquette should I know for Dublin?

Step into any proper Dublin local — the low hum of conversation layered over clinking glasses, the smell of hops and damp wool coats on the rack by the door — and you'll notice groups of 3 or 4 buying rounds in turn. The round system is the thing most visitors get wrong, and it matters more than any dress code or greeting rule. Someone buys the first round for the table at maybe €6-7 a pint in Stoneybatter or Portobello, then the next person buys, then the next. Skipping your turn reads as stingy in a culture where generosity with drinks is a social contract. Skip the overpriced tourist-trap pubs clustered around Temple Bar, where a pint hits €8.50 — locals tend to drink at Doyle's Corner or the Long Hall, where a round of 4 runs closer to €24 than €34. You don't need to match pint for pint if you're not drinking alcohol; a sparkling water or a Coke counts. The point is participation, not volume. Mind you, nobody will say anything to your face. They'll just quietly note it.

Dubliners greet with a handshake and first names almost immediately — the formality you might expect in continental Europe doesn't apply here. 'How are you?' or 'How's it going?' is a greeting, not a genuine question about your health. The correct response is 'Grand, thanks' or 'Not bad,' never a sincere 5-minute update on your lower back. You'll hear 'sorry' maybe 20 times a day on Grafton Street — bumping into someone, reaching past them in a shop on George's Street Arcade, getting their attention at a Centra counter. It's reflexive and expected back. The warmth is real but indirect; sarcasm and understatement carry the emotional weight here. If someone says a meal was 'not bad at all,' that likely means it was excellent.

Tipping sits somewhere between American generosity and the French shrug. At a sit-down restaurant — say Uno Mas on Aungier Street where mains run €14-18, or the Woollen Mills overlooking the Ha'penny Bridge — 10-12% is standard, and some places add a 12.5% service charge already, so check the bill before doubling up. Pubs: you don't tip for pints pulled at the bar. Hotel porters and taxi drivers appreciate €1-2 for good service, but nobody expects it. Hairdressers and barbers get a couple of euro if you're happy with the cut.

Queuing is sacred. The Irish queue for buses at O'Connell Street, for coffee at 3fe on Grand Canal Street, for entry at Croke Park on match days when 82,300 supporters funnel through the turnstiles. Cutting a queue will earn you a look that could curdle milk, though again, nobody will confront you directly — they'll just radiate disapproval. On public transport, giving up your seat for elderly passengers or pregnant women is expected without being asked. On the Luas or Dublin Bus, keep your bag off the seat beside you during the 8-to-9 a.m. crush. Volume matters too: a quiet conversation is fine, a speakerphone call on the DART will get you silent judgment from the entire carriage.

Dress in Dublin is casual by European capital standards. You can walk into most restaurants in clean jeans and a decent top without anyone blinking. The exception is a handful of upscale spots like Chapter One or Restaurant Patrick Guilbaud, where smart casual means no trainers and a collared shirt wouldn't hurt. For pubs, anything goes — you'll see everything from suits to football jerseys by 6 p.m. on a Friday. The weather dictates layers more than fashion — a waterproof jacket is more useful than a blazer 11 months out of 12.