Cork & Limerick

29.08.10

Upon scanning Rick Steves’ Ireland book and not seeing a single paragraph dedicated to the town of Cork, I had apprehensions about spending two nights there. However, Tim had his heart set on the Blarney Castle and it’s infamous stone, so away we went, without even so much as an address for Sheila’s Hostel. The train ride was… well, there isn’t even a suitable enough positive adjective to put here. “Lovely,” “remarkable,” “inspiring,” “beautiful,” are close, but not quite strong enough. Ireland is definitely my Motherland, the country of my people: the pales, the sickly, the loud and talkative. Haha, love it. Cork itself is cute- it’s supposedly the secondlargest city in Ireland, but from what we saw, it felt more like a Eugene. The town is situated around the River Lee, which Tim and I nicknamed the River Wee/Pee; you can probably infer why. After a bit of a walk and asking for some directions, we found our hostel, at the top of a very cruel hill, next to other hostels. We were put in a five-person room, and for the first night, we had it all to ourselves. After showering, we headed to explore. It seems that each town we visit have a disporportionate amount of one type of store. For example

Amsterdam- sex shops, duh.

Berlin- Souvenier stores

Füssen- Women’s boutiques

Madrid- gold pawn shop things

In Cork, they have far too many men’s suit stores. Seriously, every fourth store is a suit store, and it appears that Cork is a fairly formal town. We awkwardly stumbled upon a flock of well-dressed men, but we couldn’t figure out what they were waiting for. Also! For reasons unknown to us, Tim and I also came across about 150 13 year-olds, skankily dressed, waiting for something. I’d assume a concert of some sort, but they were all lined up outside a mall? I guess some things shall remain a mystery. Cork also is having a steamy love affair with cheap friend chicken places. I was mildly surprised we didn’t see any KFC’s. Instead, we saw about 3 “Hillbilly’s,” which is basically the same thing.

Fast forward to Saturday!

We got up in time to shower before getting kicked out for the day, asked the front desk man where we could find a grocery store and set out.. What we found was like, at least 85 times better. We found a farmer’s market type place, and apparently it’s been going on for a few hundred years! It’s hard to describe it, so Tim and I took a bunch of pictures, which I already posted. He ended up getting some turkey meat, cheese, and a loaf of Foccacia bread, and I bought two chicken legs, a loaf of “duck” bread (so named for its shape), and a cookie, reccommended to me by the old lady selling sweets. It’s places like this that make me wish I had a kitchen. And an ounce of domestic ability.

Then it was off to Blarney Castle. Blarney is a nothing town about 15 minutes from Cork. On this little trip, I saw my first megastore, and I breathed a sigh of relief: finally! Something familiar! Haha, I’m not sure what “Dunness” stores are, but Costco’s got nothin’ on them. We arrived, and the weather gods blessed us with another day of 16 degree weather, we paid our 8 Euro (I grumbled a bit), and headed in. The first thing we came across was a little stream, a picnic area, and a small wooden bridge leading to the other side. We followed the path, took another, cut across a meadow, and ended up in our very own, private picnic spot. I was basically in heaven. This grounds of Blarney Castle alone were were the entrance fee. Hopefully I took enough pictures to paint you a sufficient picture. We ate, adventured, and eventually found the castle. I’ve seen a few castles in my day, but none that were this run down and skeletol. It’s a different castle experience to say the least. Also, I love middle-aged travelers; they crack me up. They’re afriad of heights, have a harder time problem solving, resistant to ask for help/directions, and they whine to their spouses in the most adorable tone. Kissing the stone was kind of moot, since Tim and I do not need “the gift of eloquence” by any stretch of the imagination, but Tim the Tourist demanded it, and I complied. :]

After that magical moment, we hunted down the Poison Gardens we heard so much about from Jen & Jacob. It was about half the size I was expecting, and man, it contained some silly specimens. With a cage around it, and a large warning sign, we saw poison oak. In a cage was a cousin or something of the cannabis plant. The kind, I assume, that doesn’t produce buds. We also saw a tobacco plant, salvia, the drug behind heroein, and even a juniper tree (wtf?!). All in all, it was a “lol”worthy experience. Tim and I then set out for a romantic lake walk. Indeed, it was romantic; the only other people on our path were couples. Hmph.

When it was all said and done, we headed back to our bus stop, realized we had to wait an hour and half for the next one, and set out to the nearest park to read. We finished our evening by meeting one of our roommates Julia from Conneticut, with whom we went out at night for a few pints and live music. The bar we went to caused Tim and me to laugh until it hurt. They were showcasing bands that were metal or something. Song titles include “Scorpions in the sand,” and “Fuck stick.” I then demanded a prompt exit, and we headed to another bar and listened to an accoustic cover band play songs from The Police and Fleetwood Mac etc.

We’re now on a bus, finally in Limerick. We’re gonna move Tim in, find him some sheets and hopefully meet his roommates. More later!



(Later)

Ok, the line to check-in is outrageous, so I’ve dumped Tim in exchange for a patch of grass in the sunshine and some wireless. Sorry, buddy. And it’s been settled: I want to live here. Actually, I’d like to uproot his village and the surrounding grassy fields, and plop it down where my 10 story ghetto dorm lies in Freiburg.