Cody is keeping his own blog...

For those interested in Cody's perspective, he is keeping his own blog at http://fishnchipsplease.blogspot.ie/. We invited him to post here, but noooooooo.... Our blog isn't good enough...

Castles, Fortresses, and a Hore

The Rock of Cashel is a stone fortress, actually a collection of medieval buildings built upon an artesian

spring.

The buildings are incredible and the various stories of its changing ownership are intriguing. For example, Cromwell's army came to take it, warned everyone to get out, then came in and killed all 800 or so inside. 

Then there is Cody, trying to mimic the building itself.

This is one of the crosses marking a grave at the Rock. There are still about 6-7 people in the village who have the privilege of being buried there. Once they die, the cemetery will be closed to new burials. 

These are the ruins of Hore Abbey, taken from up on the Rock of Cashel. 

As this abbey is in a field with evidence of cattle grazing, I kept expecting a bull to appear. I was aware where the closest fence was and that I didn't have to be fast, just faster than Vicki or Cody. 

Dan taking a photo of Vicki and Cody taking photos of the abbey and Dan.

Cemetery at the Abbey.

Cody took this good shot.

There was a woman with a selfie stick taking shots in the abbey. It's not like there were not others to take the shot. And it would take a really long stick - or a tripod (three sticks?) - to get the whole abbey in this shot. 

So we left Cashel and moved on to Cahir, where there is one of the best preserved castles in Ireland. Our guide told us that they used to eat anything that moved and that the "four and twenty blackbirds baked in pie" was certainly plausible - but that they were placed in a crust already cooked, so when the pie was cut, they all flew away. Great spectacle, I suppose, but who wants blackbirds flying around the dining room? 

Below is the portcullis. Across a small entrance area was the entrance to the interior of the castle. Unwelcome visitors might get past this, only to have it slam shut behind them, trapping them in this area. At that point, defenders could proceed to pelt them with rocks, pour boiling nasty stuff on them, or throw down leftover pies, filled with four and twenty angry blackbirds.

Castles always have cool doors. I want a door like this for our house. 

  

Or this one. 

After Cahir, we made our way to Cork. We traveled at a greater speed, because we took the highway. We took longer to get there, however, because street signs are nonexistent and our atlas doesn't mention taking the third roundabout and turning left at the gaol (jail). And asking for directions from someone here gets you a long discourse with options. Even a map drawn for us by one of the B&B owners: "Go to where the road just levels out. How do I draw the leveling?" He settled for just drawing the line of direction darker and harder. 

Cork is a city of 120,000 and marks the point where we turn west. We stayed at a B&B and hit the Hop On, Hop Off bus tour.

This is the former Gaol (jail).

In this close up, note the three rectangular outlines where scaffolding used to be. Prisoners were hanged there as a public spectacle. 

One hop off was here at the candy store Vicki mentions.

Justt around the corner is the Butter Museum. I know - visiting a museum about butter sounds lame. Actually, it was pretty cool. At one point, Cork was the butter capital of the world. Butter used to be graded before being shipped out all over the world, kinda like cotton was in Memphis.

Just down the street is this church tower

that Cody and I climbed to ring the bells. One is given ear protection to wear. Cody played, pulling on these ropes

then we climbed progressively smaller stairwells to the bellfry, where that ear protection was very important.

The view from the top was nice.

Finally, Cody and I went to tour the old Jameson distillery. Great tour with a tasting at the end. They put out some Johnny Walker Black, some Jameson's, and some Jack Daniels and you taste the three, hopefully coming to the realization that the Jameson's triple distillation process renders the smoothest whiskey of the three. Our guide noted disdainfully that the Americans add sugar to Jack Daniels. There in their tasting room, I did not choose to note that in every pub we had visited, JD is on the front line of their whiskeys, right next to Jameson's. 

Here, I am telling my son to be still. Get it?

Nothing else can be visited in Cork after 5, so we all went out for a very nice dinner. At the time of writing this post, we are waiting for breakfast. Then we head out for Blarney, Kinsale, and points west. More to come.

A day (and night) with no wireless

 Let me just say, first of all, that I am GPS dependent. I love map apps, but I'd REALLY love to have one in a country that does not label streets and roads. 

Yesterday (Sunday) was a day to get from Limerick to Cork. We wanted to go to Cashel and to Cahir (pronounced "care") on the way and thought that the backroads would be a lovely way to do it.  We didn't get too lost for too long, but one wrong highway could have been our last. GPS > atlas - or at least, I'm guessing that it would be. We are doin' navigation using 20th-century techniques. 

Dan and Cody assured me that the scenery on the drive was lovely. All that I saw was the road, the lines that marked the very tiny lanes, and all of the things on the left that I was trying not to sideswipe. Cashel was very cool, and our guide had a lovely sense of humor. Dan will post more photos, but here is a shot of Cody imitating the sad face made by part of the remains:

After the tour of the Rock of Cashel, we hiked down to Hore Abbey, which, along with a billion other places, was destroyed by Oliver Cromwell in the 1600s. The hike involved climbing stone walls and not stepping in cow patties.  Again, Dan has photos to post. We climbed back UP that freaking rock and then into the village of Cashel, where we popped in for a quick lunch and a pint. It ended up taking about two hours and, due to a misunderstanding, being served two pints of cider each. We then decided to head to Cork via the M8. How hard could it be to find city centre from a major highway?

Hard. The answer is hard. We finally found the B&B, but were unable to find anyone to answer the door. Are you freaking kidding me? Dan and Cody went off to find a phone so that we could call to see if anyone was around to let us in. They were, and we dropped our bags and headed out to find dinner, which turned out to be more difficult because apparently Cork puts a cork in it on Sundays. Also, we couldn't attach to the wireless in the B&B, so Dan and I went night-night and Cody stayed up to conquer the internet router. 

Monday (today) brought lots of sunshine and no driving for me. We hopped on and hopped off the Cork tours, visiting the Butter Museum; St. Anne's Shandon, where Dan and Cody climbed the stairs to the bell tower so that Cody could play "Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head"; and Shandon Sweets, where a cute little man has made sweets for over 50 years. Here he is:

Dude handles 300-degree melted sugar with his bare hands, so while he might look kind, he is probably dangerous.

So we hopped back on the hop-on, hop-off to complete the tour, which went through streets that looked too narrow for a small car, much less a freaking bus. But those bus drivers somehow do it. It's amazing. We hopped off for lunch and then Dan and Cody went to Midleton for a tour and tasting at the Jameson's distillery. I hung out at the tourism office and chatted it up with Anthony, a lovely native Corkian (?) who told me that it would be very difficult to trace my O'Keefe ancestors without knowing which parish they came from or the name of the ship that they took when they emigrated to the U.S.  So if anyone has that information about John and Ellen (Mahanney) O'Keefe, do let me know. Thanks. 

Tomorrow, we are off to Blarney, Kinsale, Clonakilty (known for its black puddings - ick), Glandor, Ballydehob, and Mizen. We are staying in a B&B run by a woman called Cornelia O'Keefe. Maybe she knows about John and Ellen.