You could walk past Hughes a hundred times and fail to notice it was even there. Standing on an anonymous corner of Chancery Street, close to the Luas line, its beige colour scheme and general lack of ostentation conspire to make it practically invisible.
Step through the threshold and you'll begin to realise what you've been missing. Flyspotted with old sepia prints, framed newspaper headlines and Guinness memorabilia, the interior is tricked out like a 19th-century curiosity shop. Split between a lengthy main bar and a sprawling snug, Hughes is also far larger than its modest exterior might suggest.
There's a distinct That '70s Show sensibility at play in the lounge area, down to the old- style banquette seating and the wooden bar top. Here is where the regulars tend to congregate, and though you certainly won't be made to feel an interloper, you may get the sense of having crashed someone else's party.
For a different experience, you're better off setting up in the generously proportioned snug, where, surrounded by antique store bric-a-brac, you can gaze out at the Luas and pedestrians, smug in the knowledge that you have stumbled upon one of Dublin publand's best kept secrets.