Homeward Bound

Over the last few days there really hasn't been much to blog about.  We spent most of our time just lazing around in coffee houses and pubs in both Cork and Dublin.  The weather was often so poor that we couldn't pull ourselves to actually go walking around the city for any worth-while amount of time so we took advantage of the down time.  

About a week ago we had a discussion about going back home.  It seemed to us that we had already seen all of the things that we really wanted to see - things that were on our big list.  We felt that we and spent a good chunk of change on the trip and that spending any more might very well make us resent staying longer.  Jim had gigs he wanted to take, music to write, and missed his dog Shadow very much.  I had tried to line up interviews via phone or Skype for a couple of positions and wanted to get home so I could do it from a trustworthy, dependable internet connection.  Basically, we were getting a bit homesick and missed our bed, our clothing and the luxury of being able to eat healthy whenever we wanted.  And so, in the end we decided to rearrange our flights and return home early.

It is now March 27th and we are back in our house.   The flights were shifted around, fees were charged, and the incessant trip planning was put to a halt.  We packed our bags one last time and left our hotel at 6:00 am yesterday morning.

The flight was a painfully boring 9 hours, not to mention the additional 2-hour delay due to mechanical issues.  Our entertainment system on board also failed numerous times so we couldn't even watch a movie straight through.  But we made it home in one piece and had the best sleep ever last night.

In closing, we enjoyed our adventures very much.  We saw things we never thought we would see in a lifetime and found places we will no doubt return to.  We'll have memories to last us our lifetimes and the 2458 pictures to go with them!  Thank you for following along on our blog. We hope you were able to feel the wind off the Marseille coast and smell the dog dung in the streets of Madrid.

Kissing the Blarney Stone

We did it.  We kissed the Blarney Stone!  

It was a quick bus ride to Blarney from Cork this morning, and when we arrived the sun was shining and for the first time in quite a few days it didn't rain.  We took this as a good sign.  The Blarney Castle is surrounding on all sides by amazing grounds: gardens, druid ruins, rock formations, fairy gardens, a lake, and stunning forests.  For 12 Euros each we entered the grounds and spent the first hour of our journey exploring the gardens.

Our entrance into the gardens was accompanied by this lovely chap.

Walk up and back down with your eyes closed while thinking about your wish and it will come true!

Dougie in the fairy garden trying to impress a fairy bird.

And making a wish.

It was then time to enter the Blarney Castle.  This was the first castle we have been in, or even been close to since being in Ireland. Though parts of it have crumbled over time, it's still incredibly impressive and awe inspiring.We walked into the front gate and began climbing the long, narrow stairwell to the top of the castle where the Blarney stone sat waiting.

Narrow doorways and short, so short.

The narrow stairwell leading to the stone at the top of the castle.

Looking down at the family room.

We passed through bedrooms, kitchens and dining halls, over drainage spouts and under murder holes (a hole above the main entrance that allowed guards to murder an unwanted guest as they came into the castle).  Once we reached the top we were surprised to see only ten people or so standing in line, waiting to be blessed with the gift of gab.  In no time at all Jim and I were bent over backwards laying wet ones on the black, polished stone.

We crawled back down the stairwell and toured the poison garden that displayed poisonous and toxic plants, as well as the fern gardens, horse graves, a beautifully quiet and still lake and surrounding forest. This truly is the Ireland everyone pictures in their minds - green, mossy, humid and crisp.

One of the horse graves int eh horse graveyard.

This is the Lion Rock - it looks like a lion laying down.

All in all, it was a wonderful day spent at a most magical place. We can't say enough great things about this country. The people are friendly and have a great sense of humor, the food is tasty and is great value for the money, the variety of landscapes are all astonishing and for completely different reasons and while the weather is completely unpredictable, it's very tolerable.  We know we'll return one day.

Put a Cork in It

This morning I decided to iron my pants.  Now, it is important to note that I NEVER iron anything.  So why I chose to do so today was a bit of a mystery.  None the less, I turned the iron on to high and set up the small, wall-mounted ironing board.  I had just finished the first leg and set the iron down to rotate the pants when the board gave way and collapsed, sending the iron to the ground in a crash.  I jumped out of the way and in the three seconds it took me to run back to pick up the iron it had burned a perfect, iron-shaped hole in the carpet.  Oh shit.

We went to get our host, Eileen, and explained what had happened. She said she would discuss it with her husband and then invited us up for our breakfast. I felt increasingly terrible each time she offered us more coffee, more toast, or another egg.  As we checked out she requested that we pay for half of the replacement cost.  We were expecting a $500 bill, so when she said 150 Euros I was more than happy to oblige.  We said goodbye, and apologized yet again before heading into the blustering hail storm that followed us all the way to the train station.

Lots of snow in the hills here in Ireland - but only hail down in town.

By 1:30 this afternoon we had arrived in Cork.  There was no real reason to come here other than to visit - and kiss - the blarney stone. We checked into another great little bed and breakfast and walked around the town, noticing just how shop-focused the downtown sector is.  It's blocks and blocks of clothing shops and shopping malls.  Fortunately, we also found a beautiful church with graves from the late 18th century.  Following that, we grabbed a pint of cider in a pub and walked home to rest our cold and weary bodies.

Cork.

The view from the back of the church.

From the front.

As awful as it is to say, this town is ugly.  I don't mean the buildings (although it is rather industrial and dirty), but rather the people.  I would honestly say that one out of every 25 people is somewhat attractive, but the majority are just homely.  It's a very strange phenomenon...and of course, that's just our opinion.  At least I finally feel like I fit in!

Killarney in the Rain

The train carried us through sunshine-covered fields and sheep-filled pastures yesterday as we began our journey to Killarney, Ireland.  There are no reservation fees here for the trains, so we just jump on and wave our train pass at the conductor when he checks for tickets.  Not once have we been asked for ID, nor has a conductor even really looked closely at our passes - so really, anybody smart enough to steal a train pass from some poor tourist could easily use it or sell it to another tourist.  Clever.  But I digress.

Though we boarded the train in sunshine, we stepped off in the rain and wind.  It was bloody freezing, but we had decided to walk to our bed and breakfast and we were determined to follow through.  It took thirty minutes to reach the house and we were certainly relieved when we rounded the corner and saw the stately Crystal Springs manor.  It sat alone on an acreage that was perched along the banks of the Flesk river.  When we approached the front door, a lovely woman named Eileen came to greet us and immediately led us to our room.

The room was beautiful. We could not have been more pleased with it.  We then went back upstairs where Eileen had prepared coffee and cookies for us to enjoy while she explained the maps and amenities Killarney had to offer.  That first night we walked around town in the drizzle and grabbed a quick bite to eat.  There is obviously a great deal of tourism here as every second shop is selling the same old souvenirs at inflated prices.  But it is a lovely little town and we were excited to see how it looked in the sunlight.

St. Mary's Cathedral in the rain.  The large tree on the left marks a mass children's grave from the great famine.

Too bad we woke up to a downpour.  Our plans to rent bikes and spend the day riding around Killarney National park to see Ross Castle, Muckross House and Lough Lake were ruined.  As we sat down to breakfast we made the decision to book a last minute tour around the Ring of Kerry - if it was going to rain all day we may as well spend it in a bus.  But I'm getting ahead of myself.  Let's go back to the breakfast.

The buffet offered cereal, granola, muesli, yogurts, a fruit salad, and the widest selection of condiments we've ever seen.  So I grabbed some fruit and muesli (I need the fibre) and sat down.  Eileen then brought us coffee and toast.  "The rest is on its way'" she said in her charming Irish lilt.  We had completely forgotten that we submitted a breakfast order form the night before.  Out came my porridge with Bailey's and Jim's fried egg and bacon. "Did you want some sausage with that as well'" asked Eileen.  Of course, Jim said yes.

He then looked at me as if we had just gotten away with robbing a bank. "this is the best breakfast we've had on this whole trip," he mused, "I wonder how much it's going to cost."  I smiled and assured him it was included here at the bed and breakfast.

The bus came at 10:00 a.m. and we were driven off on a tour of the Ring of Kerry.  

As the bus pulled out of town, the sun came out and the rest of the day was spent admiring breathtaking scenery that looked like it was out of a Lord of the Rings movie.  There were picturesque villages that sat nestled between mountain ranges and rocky coast, mossy forests and wide open, rock-covered plains.  Bright green pastures were scattered with sheep, ponies, and old decimated castles.  We drove up over mountains and down into valleys, through winding passes, over bridges and under rock tunnels - and Jim was deeply affected by all of it.  Not so much in a this-is-amazing kind of way, but more of an I'm-going-to-puke kind of way.  He slept through a good portion of the last leg of the journey but I think I took enough photos to portray it accurately.

The sun came out to play - but so did the wind!!

After seven and a half hours on the bus, we finally returned home.  I took another walk at dusk to see what kind of birdies I could find while Jim caught up on the latest Alison Redford news (about time she hit the road!). If the sun shines at all tomorrow, we'll be on our way to the park on our bicycles.

Old Men and Park Benches

Simon and Garfunkle have a song called Old Friends.  It starts out like this...

Old friends, sat on their park bench like book ends.

That song echoed in my head this afternoon as I stumbled upon two old men sitting on a park bench, silently watching the ducks dabble on the small pond in front of them.  They were too precious to ignore, so I pulled out my camera and asked if I could took their photo. "You're simply too handsome to ignore," I said, hoping to charm them into posing for one quick shot.

Within minutes, one of the men was telling me that Canada was the first country to open its borders to victims of the great Irish famine.  He listed off names of ships and years and numbers of survivors.  And then he mentioned that he was a writer, of poetry to be precise.  Seven books he had published.  I smiled and sat beside them on the bench for a minute.  And then, out of nowhere, he began to recite his poetry.  Four sweet love poems flowed from him as if he had only written them yesterday; still heavy with meaning and emotion.  It was beautiful.  

The wind picked up and the cherry blossoms fell to the path that lay at our feet.  I thanked him for the poems, wished them a pleasant afternoon and meandered back through the park towards home.  There's something magical about Ireland and I'm so deeply grateful we've come to experience it.

Look Right, Then Left

I've only been nearly killed by cars a few times since being in Ireland.  It's so hard to remember to look to the right first - even when they paint it on the road right in front of you.  I read it, and then immediately look left and step out onto the road to the sound of Jim yelling "ALI!"

Today is St. Patrick's Day and we're in Dublin.  How awesome is that?  We started the day off right with an Irish breakfast: toast, sausages, bacon, one egg, fried tomato and mushrooms and black pudding.  For anyone who doesn't know what black pudding is, it's essentially coagulated pork blood and oatmeal.  Jim passed on the pudding and I passed on the whole breakfast - just a BLT for me, thanks.

Next, we walked for half an hour in the cold and drizzle to reach the downtown core.  Tens of thousands of people lined the streets in anticipation of the big parade.  We walked for probably forty-five minutes down the parade route looking for a place to anchor ourselves and finally decided it was too cold to sit in one place. So, on the advice of our bartender friend Anthony, we went in search of Ireland's oldest pub, the Brazen Head for a pint instead.

Walking towards downtown. 

The oldest pub in Ireland, established in the 12th  century!

Of course, we got lost as our instructions were scribbled on a coaster and we had no idea which cathedral to turn right at and which old building to turn left at.  Eventually, we arrived and found a seat at the bar.  Next to us sat a young couple from California.  We talked about our travels and of all things, hunting. They left to watch the parade, which was playing live on the t.v. screen in the corner but they decided it would be cooler to be a part of it by walking two blocks away.  We agreed, chugging our Jameson's whiskey shots and cider to follow suit.

There were so many people in the streets we couldn't see the parade.  So we bumped our way through the crowds to some quieter streets and did some souvenir/gift shopping.  It was here we discovered Canadians don't have to pay the 28% tax when shopping.  Most excellent.

Trying to get a glimpse of the parade. Epic fail.

By this time it was raining and we were pretty cold.  A small fish and chip shop called out to us and we obliged.  This evening we took a lovely walk around the Donnybrook neighborhood and found a good number of buildings were illuminated in glowing green light.  I think we should do this in Canada on Canada day but in red - not creepy at all.

Tomorrow we'll visit the Guinness storehouse and maybe the Jameson's distillery, along with whatever other tourist sights we can find!  Until then, Happy St. Patrick's Day to ya!