After perusing the waterfront in Charlottetown I walked back from the Memorial for Irish Settlers in quiet reflection. I passed a busy street full of people dancing to live music where two establishments were jam packed with party-goers of all ages! The John Brown Grille on Victoria Row was certainly the place to be that night!

There wasn’t a seat to be had outside, but I found a stool up at the bar inside. I sipped a beverage, watched the ball game, and listened to the music outside. As much as I would have rather watched people dance and enjoy themselves, the ball game was a welcome treat! Soon, I struck up a conversation with the lad sitting next to me.

Sam and I had a lovely chat! He shared stories about local areas that I should check out and had tons of thoughtful questions about my travels. Visiting with young Sam felt a lot like visiting with my own young son. When Sam shared he was the designated driver for his girlfriend and her friends, he expressed concern about his phone having died and not knowing how to get in touch with her.

I had just the thing for Sam. I pulled my battery pack from my bag so he could charge his phone. He was thrilled to be able to contact his lady again. Sam sat a while longer and we continued our wonderful conversation. When he got up to leave, he thanked me again and advised he thought he had enough juice now to find his party. I told him to keep the charger. I hadn’t really needed it yet on this trip, so he may as well take it with him so he could be sure to catch up with his lady. Sam was incredibly grateful and it felt good to help this guy out. I can order another and have it sent to me anywhere on this trip. Sam needed one now.

Before he set off to find his love, he told me I should check out the speakeasy upstairs. He told me the password and instructed me to press the buzzer in the alley next to the bar. Off Sam went, and my heart felt full. I miss my son heaps and heaps. Although Sam was no substitute for my boy, I felt hopeful I could have easy conversations like this with him upon my return home.

Sam, if you ever remembered the name of my blog, I hope you read this some day. I am grateful for the visit we had. I enjoyed your thoughtful mind and you filled my cup with your time that evening! I wish you and your gal a happy move and hope you get out to see the world the way you described!

After I finished my beverage and paid my bill, I wandered outside to find the alley. I’m not going to lie, my friends, I felt like I was skulking about in a VERY conspicuous way! Sure enough, there WAS a buzzer on the side of the building!! I was giddy with excitement! I eagerly pressed the button.

Nothing.

I pressed again and said the password at the same time.

Nothing.

I laughed out loud and with a twinkle in my eye, I wondered if Sam had been pulling my leg. OK, no, I didn’t really think that was the case. He was too sweet a kid to do something like that. I assumed I heard no response because the music was so loud. Never one to give up, I sauntered over to the front door. Again feeling rather conspicuous. I approached the fella at the door and say,

“Sooooo…..is there REALLY a speakeasy upstairs?”

“What’s the Password?” (he sort of barked).

Well let me tell you, did I light up at that! I gleefully share the words with confidence. He motioned for me to follow and follow I did! He spoke nary a word and his stride was much faster than mine. We went to the back of the bar. He led me up a set of steep stairs. I chased him across the rooftop. He opened a heavy door and I found myself in a sitting room of sorts with a pretty sofa. When my eyes adjusted to the very dimly lit room, I noticed a few others standing quietly off to the side. My guide opened yet another heavy door and all my senses exploded with delight!

Soft lighting. Soft laughter. The smell of sweet perfumes and nutty liqueurs. Pretty furniture that seemed to be straight from Al Capone’s favourite digs. The bar was beautifully crafted dark wood and as my fingertips grazed the edge, I could feel the efforts put into its polishing. The top of the bar was lined with rock glasses, tinctures and all sorts of mixes. The wall behind was filled with bottles, jars, shakers and various and sundry tools of the trade. I couldn’t help but grin my great big, Deanna grin. This was fabulous!

I took a stool at the bar and was further delighted when I was greeted by a bartender in period dress with a glorious mustache completing his look. I ordered an Old Fashioned (of course). He mixed. He shook. He stirred. He added eye-droppers of this, and drabs of that. Given that bourbon is presently pretty hard to come by, he had his own special blend to reproduce the caramelly-smooth flavour with smoky notes that only comes from charred oak barrels. He took his time and when my lips met the first taste, and I poured that sweetness over my tongue, the wait was worth every minute! Perfection. Even the subtle notes from the orange peel tasted better here!

I spent the next hour enjoying my drink and chatting with the bartender and the person one stool down. It was a wonderful way to spend my evening and an unexpected delight to cap off my day of exploring.

By the time I made it back to my hotel, however, the front door wouldn’t open! I trotted across the street to the font desk to find out how the heck to enter the guest room building. I assumed my card had come into contact with my phone or something, rendering it useless. Nope. Not the case. “Take the tunnel,” says the front desk clerk.

“The tunnel?” says I. My evening was still producing some fruitful exploring!

Apparently the guest room building is no longer accessible after 10:00 pm so guests must take a tunnel under the street to access the guest building elevator. It turned out to be a handy way to avoid morning traffic when I headed for breakfast the next morning too.

OK so full disclosure here. I have searched the website for both John Brown’s AND Reddin’s and I still haven’t found the secret sign up for their secret newsletter to get the secret monthly password to get access to the secret speakeasy. Perhaps one of you will figure it out? You can read more about it here.