10-24-2019, 12:53 PM
Day One - Cashel to Cork
I finally managed to get a few hours of sleep after I went back to bed. So much so, that the alarm woke me at 7am. I’ve heard rumors of 7am but this is the first time I woke to that time.
Sun up in Ireland arrives 8:15, which for me is halfway through the day. But The Queen and I opted to go back to the Rock of Cashel to get some sunrise pictures. Although the sun was up, it hid behind plenty of clouds. We did what we could. We didn’t stay as long as we could, because told Tommy our host at the Tir Na Nog B&B that we would be back at 8:30 for breakfast.
Breakfast was the usual Irish experience. We both made the mistake of asking for full Irish to which I also added oatmeal. I wasn’t thinking. I admit it. Full Irish means sausage, bacon, eggs, black pudding, white pudding, mushrooms, beans and half a tomato. Too much food by a long margin. You could have the eggs any way you want them as long as they are fried.
Tommy opted to join us so we could talk about everything. The main topic of discussion though was GAA sports. We made side trips into the greatness of Oman where his daughter works teaching English. Of course there was mention of the state of Irish politics. I think if Tommy didn’t have things to do and we didn’t have places to go, we’d still be in the breakfast nook solving the world’s problems.
Our first stop of the day was the Gaulstown Dolmen. Google Maps was kind enough to lead us right to it. If we didn’t have the Google, we never would have found it. The Dolmen was way off the beaten path. And a good thing too. Because the space to see it was tiny. It was on a farmer’s property and they fenced off just a small area to see it. If a tour bus had shown up, it would have been a nightmare. But it was just The Queen and I. And Mr. Sun who peaked out from behind the clouds and lit up the glade where the Dolmen resided.
Our next stop was Bunmahon in County Waterford. There is a geopark there for a scenic drive along the Copper Coast. They dug a lot of copper out of the ground there. Only one little problem. There was no cell or internet connection at the Gaulstown Dolmen. There was no way to refresh Google Maps to get directions. And we far away from even the second or tertiary roads.
I managed to retrace our steps through the narrow lanes and past the hedgerow cutter(what an awesome piece of machinery) to get back to the sign pointing to Bunmahon. That was the last sign we saw to Bunmahon for quite awhile. We did get to drive through Kill on our lost wanderings.
At this point, deep in the heart of trackless County Waterford, the Queen announced that if we didn’t find a bathroom soon there was going to be trouble. I kept figuring we had to be close to Bunmahon and the Geopark Visitor center. Eventually, we did pop out onto to a road that had signs for the Geopark.
You know what happens during the off-season in Ireland? They close most of the remote visitor centers during the week. The Bunmahon Copper Coast Geopark was no exception. The look of dismay on the Queen’s face was not something you wanted to see.
We sped back down to the town in quest for a shop or a gas station. Bunmahon was too small to have any of those niceties. But they did have a beach. And the beach had public toilets. The public toilets also had locks, locks that are opened on weekends.
We raced down the coast to the next town of Stradbally. There was a sign in the city center pointing to the public toilets. They must be right proud of those toilets to have a sign pointing to them. But like Bunmahon before, the Stradbally toilets were also locked. I was coming to the conclusion that people in this area only went to the toilet during the summer months and on weekends in the off season.
We sped down the coast passing numerous sites that begged to be photographed. Dramtic coastlines. Ruins. Hundred years old bridges. They all vanished quickly in the rear view mirror.
Fifteen kilometers later in Dungarvan, The Queen found relief in Kimmy’s Kitchen. We also had quite a nice lunch there.
We pushed onto Cobh (pronounced cove) in order to do the Titanic Experience, see St. Colman’s Cathedral and take a photograph of a colorful group of houses called ‘The Deck of Cards’
Rain started to pick up during the drive. The Queen spent a lot of time checking her eyelids for holes. The trip into Cobh was problematic due to road closures and diversions. By the time we pulled into the carpark behind the Cathedral, the rain was coming down in a pretty good clip. We briefly stopped into the cathedral for some snapshots.
The Titanic Experience is in the building that used to be the dock and ticket office for the White Star line. Bits of the deck are still there. Probably the most fun part of the tour was that we were each given a ticket of a person who sailed from Cobh on the Titanic. At the end of the tour you got to check the records to see if you lived or died. I was given the ticket of a doctor who was the only male first class passenger to sail on the ship. The Queen was given a young woman down in steerage. Naturally, she lived and I died.
Afterwards we went to the heritage center to learn more about Cobh. Learning the trick from the Titanic experience, the Cobh Heritage center also gave us a card with a name of someone who had sailed from Cobh. Once again I died and Cindi lived.
In the driving rain we climbed up to the Deck of Cards and took the picture everyone takes. It must be like living on Lombard street for the people on that street with a constant parade of people.
At the heritage center I got some wifi reception so I was able to load in a map back to our guesthouse in Cork. It would have taken us a lot longer to get there if I hadn’t. Even still Google hates us and took us down some of the narrowest two lane streets in the world. I use the words ‘Two Lane’ generously. In a couple spots, there was barely room for my car and I had cars coming towards me.
We are spending the night at the Gabriel Guesthouse on Barrow Lane. It’s on a slight step overlooking the train station. No elevators, so we had to schlep our bags up three flights of stairs to the second floor. It was worth. We seem to be in a corner room. We have this big bay window that looks out to who knows what.
For dinner we ventured into Cork for dinner at the Oliver Plunkett Bar. It was quite the tourist place. Upstairs was the Frisky Whiskey Bar. They were setting up the stage to play live music. We didn’t last that long.
As fate would have it, the Cork Jazz festival is going on this week. Most of the pubs and bars seem to have some sort of musical act performing as part of the Jazz festival. It’s sponsored by Guinness. Too bad this is a Beamish town. Supposedly for the jazz festival they are supposed to cover up all the bar taps that aren’t Guinness products.
We hiked back across the Lee River and up the hill to our Guesthouse. I was asleep by 9am and back awake at midnight. Jetlag sucks.
I finally managed to get a few hours of sleep after I went back to bed. So much so, that the alarm woke me at 7am. I’ve heard rumors of 7am but this is the first time I woke to that time.
Sun up in Ireland arrives 8:15, which for me is halfway through the day. But The Queen and I opted to go back to the Rock of Cashel to get some sunrise pictures. Although the sun was up, it hid behind plenty of clouds. We did what we could. We didn’t stay as long as we could, because told Tommy our host at the Tir Na Nog B&B that we would be back at 8:30 for breakfast.
Breakfast was the usual Irish experience. We both made the mistake of asking for full Irish to which I also added oatmeal. I wasn’t thinking. I admit it. Full Irish means sausage, bacon, eggs, black pudding, white pudding, mushrooms, beans and half a tomato. Too much food by a long margin. You could have the eggs any way you want them as long as they are fried.
Tommy opted to join us so we could talk about everything. The main topic of discussion though was GAA sports. We made side trips into the greatness of Oman where his daughter works teaching English. Of course there was mention of the state of Irish politics. I think if Tommy didn’t have things to do and we didn’t have places to go, we’d still be in the breakfast nook solving the world’s problems.
Our first stop of the day was the Gaulstown Dolmen. Google Maps was kind enough to lead us right to it. If we didn’t have the Google, we never would have found it. The Dolmen was way off the beaten path. And a good thing too. Because the space to see it was tiny. It was on a farmer’s property and they fenced off just a small area to see it. If a tour bus had shown up, it would have been a nightmare. But it was just The Queen and I. And Mr. Sun who peaked out from behind the clouds and lit up the glade where the Dolmen resided.
Our next stop was Bunmahon in County Waterford. There is a geopark there for a scenic drive along the Copper Coast. They dug a lot of copper out of the ground there. Only one little problem. There was no cell or internet connection at the Gaulstown Dolmen. There was no way to refresh Google Maps to get directions. And we far away from even the second or tertiary roads.
I managed to retrace our steps through the narrow lanes and past the hedgerow cutter(what an awesome piece of machinery) to get back to the sign pointing to Bunmahon. That was the last sign we saw to Bunmahon for quite awhile. We did get to drive through Kill on our lost wanderings.
At this point, deep in the heart of trackless County Waterford, the Queen announced that if we didn’t find a bathroom soon there was going to be trouble. I kept figuring we had to be close to Bunmahon and the Geopark Visitor center. Eventually, we did pop out onto to a road that had signs for the Geopark.
You know what happens during the off-season in Ireland? They close most of the remote visitor centers during the week. The Bunmahon Copper Coast Geopark was no exception. The look of dismay on the Queen’s face was not something you wanted to see.
We sped back down to the town in quest for a shop or a gas station. Bunmahon was too small to have any of those niceties. But they did have a beach. And the beach had public toilets. The public toilets also had locks, locks that are opened on weekends.
We raced down the coast to the next town of Stradbally. There was a sign in the city center pointing to the public toilets. They must be right proud of those toilets to have a sign pointing to them. But like Bunmahon before, the Stradbally toilets were also locked. I was coming to the conclusion that people in this area only went to the toilet during the summer months and on weekends in the off season.
We sped down the coast passing numerous sites that begged to be photographed. Dramtic coastlines. Ruins. Hundred years old bridges. They all vanished quickly in the rear view mirror.
Fifteen kilometers later in Dungarvan, The Queen found relief in Kimmy’s Kitchen. We also had quite a nice lunch there.
We pushed onto Cobh (pronounced cove) in order to do the Titanic Experience, see St. Colman’s Cathedral and take a photograph of a colorful group of houses called ‘The Deck of Cards’
Rain started to pick up during the drive. The Queen spent a lot of time checking her eyelids for holes. The trip into Cobh was problematic due to road closures and diversions. By the time we pulled into the carpark behind the Cathedral, the rain was coming down in a pretty good clip. We briefly stopped into the cathedral for some snapshots.
The Titanic Experience is in the building that used to be the dock and ticket office for the White Star line. Bits of the deck are still there. Probably the most fun part of the tour was that we were each given a ticket of a person who sailed from Cobh on the Titanic. At the end of the tour you got to check the records to see if you lived or died. I was given the ticket of a doctor who was the only male first class passenger to sail on the ship. The Queen was given a young woman down in steerage. Naturally, she lived and I died.
Afterwards we went to the heritage center to learn more about Cobh. Learning the trick from the Titanic experience, the Cobh Heritage center also gave us a card with a name of someone who had sailed from Cobh. Once again I died and Cindi lived.
In the driving rain we climbed up to the Deck of Cards and took the picture everyone takes. It must be like living on Lombard street for the people on that street with a constant parade of people.
At the heritage center I got some wifi reception so I was able to load in a map back to our guesthouse in Cork. It would have taken us a lot longer to get there if I hadn’t. Even still Google hates us and took us down some of the narrowest two lane streets in the world. I use the words ‘Two Lane’ generously. In a couple spots, there was barely room for my car and I had cars coming towards me.
We are spending the night at the Gabriel Guesthouse on Barrow Lane. It’s on a slight step overlooking the train station. No elevators, so we had to schlep our bags up three flights of stairs to the second floor. It was worth. We seem to be in a corner room. We have this big bay window that looks out to who knows what.
For dinner we ventured into Cork for dinner at the Oliver Plunkett Bar. It was quite the tourist place. Upstairs was the Frisky Whiskey Bar. They were setting up the stage to play live music. We didn’t last that long.
As fate would have it, the Cork Jazz festival is going on this week. Most of the pubs and bars seem to have some sort of musical act performing as part of the Jazz festival. It’s sponsored by Guinness. Too bad this is a Beamish town. Supposedly for the jazz festival they are supposed to cover up all the bar taps that aren’t Guinness products.
We hiked back across the Lee River and up the hill to our Guesthouse. I was asleep by 9am and back awake at midnight. Jetlag sucks.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm