Saturday 6 April 2013
9:26AM
Kinlay House #208, Cork, Ireland
My eyes snapped open, as the vivid images
of the dream I had been experiencing a few moments earlier rapidly faded away
to be replaced with the strangely red dorm room I was staying in. My throat
burned, and my nose felt rather stuffed. The early morning sun was shining
brightly through my window lighting up the whole space. It had to be at least mid-morning Snagging my phone, I realized that it had been over an hour since
my last alarm had gone off. Breakfast ended in four minutes… in the words of the Irish, “Aww feck”
I threw my clothes on and ran down to the
kitchen hoping to at least get some tea. The woman who was working the counter
didn’t seem happy with me, but she let me get some tea all the same. This
stopped the burning in my throat, and a few napkins later and my nose too felt
substantially better. My tour bus wouldn’t leave until about half eleven, which
left me with plenty of time to kill.
Snagging a quick shower and packing up my
things, I went downstairs to the front desk and asked for a recommendation on a
place to get some breakfast. He pulled out an extra map and showed me where the
shop was, along with a cool little alley way which gave a great view of the
city.
So I set out to explore. Since I had
already done a fair bit of exploring the night before, I already more or less
knew where everything was, but it was nice to see the city in the daytime. I
ended up passing the butter museum, and missing the restaurant I was supposed
to go to.
After wandering down the alley and across
the river, I found myself in Cornmarket Street, where to my delight there
seemed to be an actual market place. There were people all over the place
darting between stands filled with wonderful baked goods and fresh produce.
Breakfast was served.
A few quid later, and I had myself a few
tasty pastries. Now I was off for the English market. I really didn’t have any
intention to buy anything, but the man I met the night before had strongly
recommended it so I figured it was worth a look.
I must say I wasn’t expecting what I
found. Upon walking in, I felt like I was back in the Egyptian Spice Bazaar.
Sure it was a bit smaller, the people spoke English, and the arched ceilings lacked
beautiful Turkish designs. However, the swarm of people meandering through the
labyrinth of stands, which sold an impressive variety of fresh food, really
felt like the Spice Bazaar.
Regardless of this, I wasn’t able to buy
anything. Not because I didn’t have any money, but because I was flying with
Ryan Air. My tiny shoulder bag was already stretched to the breaking point, and
I hadn’t even brought my laptop. This is what I get for taking a discount
flight.
It was getting close to half eleven, so it
was time for me to head towards the travel centre, where the tour bus would
pick me up. Honestly, of the three absolutely beautiful days I’d spent in
Ireland, today was the best. Warm air and blue skies seemed to fit perfectly
with the quirky colorful streets of Cork. As I crossed the bridge, there were
groups of people rowing boats below. It was all a very cool scene.
After a while, the bus arrived and the
driver came out to greet me. He asked all the usual questions, where am I from?
What am I doing in Scotland? What do I study? Archaeoastronomy? What’s that? He
seemed pretty interested, and made a note to mention Neolithic historical facts
whenever relevant throughout the day.
The bus was substantially smaller than any
tour bus I had ever been on before. It seemed to me that it was caught
somewhere between a bus and a van. There was a family on board consisting of
two parents, a teenager, and three primary school aged children. Throughout the
trip they would mostly keep to themselves, while I hung with the other three
passengers.
Monica, Natalie, and Maryellen, were four
American students, currently studying in Dublin. I think I need to take this
moment to repeat, why does this never happen to me in the States? Anyway, our
first stop was Blarney Castle and the surrounding estate. Now don’t get me
wrong, Dalkeith County Park is beautiful, but it’s got nothing on Blarney
Castle.
It’s a place that is so beautiful that I
don’t really want to attempt to describe here. So I’ll tell you what, the
following link is my facebook address. http://www.facebook.com/Eciptus.Solipsi In there you can find loads of pictures from all of my Irish
experiences, such as my day in Dublin, and my adventure on the Cliffs of Mohr.
You may have to add me as a friend to see the pictures. Anyway they’re all
found in the album entitled ¿Hablas Gaélico? Which is Spanish for “Do you speak Gaelic?” The
name is my own little joke playing off of how surprisingly useful it was for me
to be able to speak Spanish in Ireland. Unfortunately that didn’t really come
into play during the third day (this blog post).
We wandered around the park crossing a small stream where several
people had thrown coins in. Bright silver and copper disks glinted along the
stream bed, from places far and wide. The castle itself was both imposing but
not. Sure as we walked up to it, one felt small underneath its towering
presence. However, this was tiny compared to the castle in Edinburgh.
Over the course of this semester, I’d visited several castles in
various states of disrepair. If you ask me, Blarney castle is in exactly the
perfect state of disrepair. It’s clearly weathered, worn, and bits of it are
completely exposed to the elements. The walls were bare exposed medieval
masonry, but most of the tunnels, passageways, staircases, and rooms remained
intact. Certainly no one could live here now, but it was in a state where you
could really get a feel for what it would have been like to walk down these
narrow corridors with nothing but a candle to light your way.
Our first objective, like virtually everyone else who visits the
castle, was to find the blarney stone. Now for those of you who have never
visited the blarney stone, its actual location in the castle might surprise
you. It surprised me. I thought it would have been the corner stone, something
in the foundation in an important spot structurally. I literally couldn’t have
been further from the truth. The blarney stone is on the very top of the
castle. Not surprisingly there is a wall around the roof of the castle. The
blarney stone is on the bottom of that wall. It wouldn’t be accessible at all
if there wasn’t a bit of the floor knocked out exposing the stone and a few
around it.
There are a lot of myths surrounding the stone, and truthfully if
the actual builders of the castle had thought there was anything special about
that rock there was no way in my mind that they had intended for it to be
kissed.
All that said, I got on my back and grabbed the two metal bars put
there for support. I then leaned my upper torso and head backwards so that my
head was hanging over the open space towards the ground below, and gave the
most kissed rock in the world a slight peck.
Apparently they clean it three times a day. I dunno, I suppose
it’s not exactly sanitary. It’s a great thing to put on the bucket list, and
apparently it is supposed to give one the gift of gab. Now my tour guide said
there is another way to get the gift of gab for those who don’t want to
actually kiss the stone. Supposedly if you kiss someone who has kissed the
stone within the last day it should have the same effect. If neither of these
options appeals to you, then you’ll miss out on the gift of gab, but still go
to the castle and explore around. It’s definitely worth it.
When we were done in the castle, we went to the poison garden. It
was a small garden, filled with planter beds with honestly very little in them.
Some of the plants were bound by black metal dome-shaped cages. These plants
had familiar names like, Wolfsbane, Wormwood, and European Mandrake. Who wants
to start making potions? Just remember to put your cauldrons to a simmer, and
add a counter-clockwise stir for every 8 clockwise.
Our next destination was the wishing steps. It’s quite the scenic
hike out there. The steps themselves are rather curious, made of stone and
covered by a stone tunnel. In order to get a wish, a potential wish seeker is
to walk down the steps backwards thinking of the wish the whole way down. If
you slip and fall, it doesn’t count. If you wish to not slip and fall and you
make it to the bottom that is proof that it works.
When we had all made our wishes, we walked back through the park,
towards where our bus would pick us up. We had a bit of time left so we stopped
for lunch. I had a really tasty bottle of juice and great sandwich. Well worth
it.
After we got on the bus, our next and final stop was the port town
of Cobh. Although Titanic fans would know it better as its old name,
Queenstown. This was the Titanic’s last port of call before it departed for its
brush with destiny.
They have a titanic visitor centre, which honestly is rather cool.
You walk in, pay a few quid and they give you a boarding pass. You’re now a
passenger that boarded from Cobh. They take you through as you would have been
depending on which class you were. They showed us what our rooms would be like,
and what the first class would be like. All four of us were third class
passengers. I was a third class 20 year old male named Mathew.
They then take you into a movie room which is more or less decked
out to look like a life boat, and they play a video of what the titanic would
have looked like sinking into the sea.
We then left our lifeboat and headed into a museum centre which
told a lot about the titanic, both its construction and its discovery. The
following rooms allowed us to look up ourselves to see if we survived. The ship
sank, and I did not survive.
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