As I head towards the bar for a pint of my own, I hear someone say: "There's more music at the back."
Past the divider, there is another trio on a stage bathed in pink and purple lights.
Armed with an electric guitar, a full drum set and a bass guitar, they are jamming to a dance floor filled with young adults. They are Clockworks (www.facebook.com/Clock works-187985483101), an Irish post-punk revival band.
The two contrasting gigs - traditional music out front; rock concert at the back - held at the same venue strikes me as a fascinating juxtaposition of old and new.
It is also symbolic of the Ireland I am experiencing on an eight-day round-the-country trip with Insight Vacations (www.insightvacations.com).
Be it the food and people or its sights and sounds, the Emerald Isle is a land of contrasts and juxtapositions, shrouded in myths and paradoxes.
Irish author Sean Moncrieff captures the very essence of this in his book The Irish Paradox.
"We can be kind and cruel, guilty of dopey optimism and chronic fatalism. We're friendly, but near impossible to get to know. We peddle myths to ourselves and to anyone else prepared to listen to them in hope that the myths prove to be true," he writes.
"We're proud to be Irish but often crippled with self-loathing. We think we're great, but not really."
It may sound harsh, but perhaps Ireland has a good excuse.
With a long and convoluted history spanning the Celts, Vikings, Normans and the English - then throw in periods of famine, financial tumult and immigration - modern Ireland is still dancing at the crossroads and in search of its identity.
This becomes more evident as I journey from the energetic yet exquisite capital of Dublin through the rugged yet ruminative Irish countryside of Kilkenny, Killarney and then up to Galway.
The morning after my pub adventure, I tour Killarney National Park in a horse-drawn carriage, also known as a Jaunting Car.
The 10,236ha park and its surrounding wilderness are a stark contrast to the touristy Killarney Town with its wild herds of native red deer peering through the autumn foliage.
We then hop onto a coach to traverse the Ring of Kerry, a 179km circuit that winds around the south-west corner of Ireland.
I have a tendency to snooze on long coach rides, but views of rugged coastline, rolling emerald pastures and mountain vistas keep me awed and awake.
In the distance, the morning fog that snakes through the valleys is still visible. That, as the Vikings would have it, is the "dragon's breath", my tour director tells me.
As a journalist, I instinctively whisk out my smartphone to verify it on Google, but nothing concrete shows up. Maybe that one got left out of the books.
Travelling anti-clockwise on the Ring, we stop not far from the town of Killorglin for a photo stop at a magnificent vista of Lough Caragh.
I get distracted, however, by a couple of gypsies, accompanied by an odd trio of a goat, donkey and dog.
Gypsies are not rare appearances along touristy routes and this couple are peddling local honey and knick-knacks such as small Brigid's crosses hand-woven from rushes. These crosses are from Ireland's pagan days and used as a talisman of sorts.
Many mediaeval ruins, most of them castles and monasteries raided by Nordic Vikings in the eighth century, punctuate the Irish landscape. They not only bear witness to the country's history, but also add to the romantic flavour of rural Ireland.
We end the tour with an hour-long hike back at the Killarney National Park that takes us to the stunning Torc Waterfall and Muckross House, a 19th-century mansion beautifully restored to its former glory.