The five pieces
How each piece works
For each item: the problem today, what it is worth, how we implement it, and either what it should achieve or how a manager uses it on a normal week. Jump to one, or read them in order.
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01
A real website
French first, English too. The one page Google and ChatGPT should quote.
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02
Newsletter and a stamp card
People who said yes. A quiet-night stamp card — or a similar perk you set.
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03
Slides on the TVs
When there is no match: tonight, the rooms, the food.
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04
Facebook and Instagram drafts
Your voice. A manager says yes. Nothing publishes itself.
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05
The upstairs rooms
A product people can find. Hire on quiet nights. No online booking.
01
A real website
Anyone who searches for an Irish pub, a match, a quiz or a room in Bordeaux — on Google or by asking ChatGPT — should get you, not a leftover page from 2004.
The problem today
There is no working commercial website. Google still sends people to connemara-pub.com, which looks like 2004. The page you have been using as a “site” is an English-only Adobe brochure. Hours do not agree: Google and that brochure say Monday closed; Instagram still says Monday open. Other English pubs in town already have real sites with menus and calendars.
Facebook (~11,000 people) and Google reviews (4.4 from more than 2,500) are strong. They cannot replace a page that tells the truth in French and English — hours, menu, allergens, what’s on this week, how to phone, how to ask about a room. ChatGPT and similar tools cannot reliably cite you, so they guess or they cite a rival.
Why this is worth it
You stop leaking people you already earned the right to have: the tourist who searched “irish pub Bordeaux”, the group who asked ChatGPT where to watch rugby, the birthday that never found the upstairs rooms because nobody advertised them. The site does not replace Facebook. It is the spine everything else in this project hangs on — events, newsletter signup, and a dedicated rooms page so hire is discoverable, later extras if you want them.
How we implement it
We build the site. We do not squeeze it into Squarespace or Wix. Those look fine on day one and then fight bilingual legal pages, a weekly calendar, and the extra marks Google and ChatGPT need. You get a simple private editing screen: change the hours, this week’s band, a dish, a photo — without calling us every time.
Pages, in both languages, French first:
- Home — what it is, where, tonight’s useful fact
- Menu as real text (not a PDF phones cannot read), plus the 14 allergens the law wants in writing
- What’s on — quiz, trad, open stage, bands, comedy
- Sports — Irish pub, rugby and football, multiple screens, Bordeaux (a page-per-match factory can wait)
- The two upstairs rooms (piece 05)
- Frequent questions, contact (map, 05 56 52 82 57), and the legal pages France requires
Cookies: Accept and Reject are equal. The newsletter box starts empty; sending a room enquiry is not a signup. If a happy hour names alcohol, the same deal exists for a soft drink. We put on the site whatever you confirm for Monday — we will not guess.
This is not a booking website and not a shop. Dinner stays walk-in. Lunch stays on the phone.
Expected results
We do not promise a ranking or a number of covers. We do expect the site to do the jobs the pub cannot do with Facebook alone:
- Someone who searches Google — or asks ChatGPT — for an Irish pub, a quiz, a match or a room in Bordeaux gets you, not the 2004 leftover and not a rival.
- Hours, address and phone are written once, in French first and in English. Google is pointed at this site, not at 2004. The week on the page matches the week in the room.
- The menu is readable on a phone, with the 14 allergens in writing — not a PDF that does not open on the tram.
- The newsletter has a public door: people who want the list can join without living on Facebook.
- The upstairs rooms become a page people can find and enquire about, instead of something they discover by walking upstairs.
- Instagram and Facebook have a real page to land on. Staff can say “it’s on the site” and mean it.
02
A newsletter, and a simple stamp card
People who asked get a useful email. Regulars who come back on quiet nights get a stamp card on their phone — for example “10 visits, one on us,” or a similar perk you prefer — not a paper card that dies in a jacket.
The problem today
Facebook does not reach everyone, and it does not belong to you. There is no email list we could find, and no simple reason to come back on a dead Tuesday instead of “we’ll see.”
Why this is worth it
The list is yours. When Ireland is on Saturday, you can tell people who already like you — not hope they saw a story. The stamp card fills the nights that are not already full. Together they keep regulars as a habit, without a “club app” you have to explain for five minutes.
How we implement it
Newsletter. A box on the new website, wired to Brevo (a French email tool — the post office for marketing mail). We do not build a mail system. Those fail, and then nobody can leave the list. French law: the box starts unchecked; you keep proof they said yes; one click and they are out. Asking for lunch or a room is not permission to mail them. A manager sees the list and presses send. In this first project, a human still presses send.
Stamp card. Before we buy anything, we look at the till. If it already does stamps or points, we use that — one system at the bar. If it does not: a small French wallet card (Apple Wallet / Google Wallet). The manager taps or scans once. A typical rule is ten off-peak visits, then a pint or a dish — or a similar perk you set (a soft drink, a dessert, a different count). We do not stamp sold-out Ireland nights or a packed UBB Saturday. The manager can always say no. We do not start WhatsApp newsletters.
How you use it
A guest ticks the box on the site and gets a mail when there is something real — not every Monday for the sake of it. A regular at the bar opens their phone; someone stamps; that is it. Once a week or less, a manager writes or approves a short mail: this week’s trad, or “Ireland Saturday 15:00.”
03
Slides on the TVs
The screens are for sport first. When there is no match, they can sell tonight, the rooms, and the food to people already in the building.
The problem today
You already paid for the hardware. Guests already look up. When football is off, the screens are often wasted: a logo, a mute menu, or nothing. The upstairs rooms have no place in the room except a conversation at the bar — which is how most people find them today, by chance.
Why this is worth it
This is the cheapest audience you have: people who already walked in. A slide that says “Friday trad, 21:00” or “two rooms upstairs — ask when the pub is quieter” does the pitch before anyone has time. Guests who would hire a room on a dead Tuesday learn it exists without stumbling upstairs. You use dead air on screens you already own. Sport always wins — we will not cover a match.
How we implement it
We rent a simple player (PosterBooking or Yodeck) and put a small stick or box on one to three screens that can be promo-only — entrance, behind the bar, upstairs landing. You tell us which. We do not hang a second computer on every match feed. That is how you lose the rugby.
We design a short pack of slides from the same facts as the website, so the Saturday band cannot be wrong on the TV and right on the site. Six to ten seconds each. French drinks rules: no lifestyle “party pints” video. Safer slides are the night, the food, the rooms, a match listing, a happy hour that also names a soft drink.
A half-time takeover on a sport TV is a later physical HDMI button, if you want it — one press, not a login during service. Not in the first install unless you ask.
How you use it
A guest walking in sees tonight before anyone pitches. When the week changes, a manager replaces the Saturday band slide. Staff do not open an app in the crush. If you later add the half-time button, they press it, slides run, the match comes back.
04
Facebook and Instagram — drafts you approve
Posts in the voice you already have. A manager reads them and says yes. Only then do they go out. Nothing publishes itself.
The problem today
Facebook is the big channel (~11,000). Instagram is smaller (~3,000) and still useful. The voice already works: bilingual, human, not a tourist brochure. The pain is time — sitting down to write, remember the drinks-ad rules, find a photo, post at a decent hour. Then nine days go by and the page looks asleep even when the room was full.
Why this is worth it
You keep the voice that already built that audience. You stop the hole where nobody posted. You never wake up to a machine that published the wrong hours or a drink ad a lawyer would hate. Fifteen minutes, once or twice a week, instead of a Sunday night at the kitchen table.
How we implement it
We write a short voice pack from about twenty posts you already published: words you use, words you never use, no stock clovers, French and English, no “party pints” lifestyle. A calendar called Metricool talks to Facebook, Instagram, and if you want, Google. We (or the tool, after the pack exists) draft three or four posts for the week: quiz, trad, a dish, a match you are really showing, and the upstairs rooms — so hire is advertised in the feed, not only mentioned if someone asks.
A manager opens the calendar, edits, rejects, or taps approve. Then it posts. If nobody approves, nothing goes out. That is the point. We do not build a private Facebook robot — those break when Meta changes the rules. Live stories on a full night still go out by hand.
How you use it
Once or twice a week: read four drafts, change a time or a name, tap yes. If something is wrong, skip. The tool does not argue. Safer posts under French rules: the gig, the food, the rooms, the listing.
05
The upstairs rooms — a page and a form
Today people find the upstairs by chance. We turn the rooms into a product that is advertised and discoverable — hired on quieter nights, when they are not needed for the public.
The problem today
Two rooms upstairs can be privatized. They are useful for an afterwork, a birthday, a small meeting, a stag — and as overflow when a match fills the ground floor. They are not advertised. People who would hire them usually find the opportunity by chance: they walk upstairs, or someone at the bar happens to mention it. There is no page to search, and phone-only “is the upstairs free?” dies in the Saturday crush.
That is likely the biggest commercial gap in this project. The rooms can only be booked when the pub is not so busy that they must stay open to everyone. On a packed night they are public overflow. The money they can make is therefore quiet-night money — exactly when the till needs it — and it does not arrive if nobody knows the rooms exist.
Why this is worth it
You stop leaving hire to luck. A dedicated page, the site, the TVs and the odd social post turn the rooms into a product people can find. Saying out loud that a big match night may turn the rooms public avoids “but I booked upstairs.” You keep the same judgement as today — yes or no — with fewer “I couldn’t get through,” and with enquiries that arrive on the nights you can actually take them.
How we implement it
Built into the website (piece 01). One page or one page per room: photos, roughly how many seated and standing, what the room is for, and that honest match-night line. A short form: name, email, phone, date, how many heads, which room if they care, a message. It goes to an inbox a manager already reads. An automatic reply says we have the message and will get back — not a confirmation, not a hold.
No online calendar, no deposit, no Stripe, no TheFork, no Calendly. Those are booking machines. They fight a walk-in pub. If you ever want deposits, that is a later, separate conversation.
How you use it
A guest finds “rooms” on the site or on Google — not by walking upstairs — and sends the form instead of hoping someone picks up at 14:00. A manager looks at the diary and replies. Same decision as today: yes when it is quiet enough, no when the rooms must stay public. On a final Saturday the page already warned that the rooms might be overflow.