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. 

First night's stay

We stayed at Twin Oaks B&B (http://www.twinoakslimerick.com/) on our first night in Ireland. The breakfast was delicious albeit cholesterol-laden (eggs, toast, bacon (which is like American ham), white pudding, black pudding (don't ask), and coffee/tea). The shower, like many over here, was like having someone pour water from a watering can. It was not unexpected. Here are two things to look out for in a place: a skylight in the bedroom (especially when sunset is after 9:30 pm and sunrise is at 5:30 am) and neighbors who are out drinking and yelling (Irish cussing uses the same words as American, BTW) until sometime after 2:30 am. 

We are off to Cashel and Cork today via the back roads.  Cody is doing his Sean Connery impressions about going to see "a cashel in Cashel." It's gonna be a long day. 

Vicki

The first 30 or so hours

Sallis delivered us to Memphis International Airport. There were more people there than I had seen in the last several years, but "International" is still a stretch, especially in comparison to Philly - we saw that airport humming. We had barely enough time to grab a bite in the lounge in Philly. Cody had to have a Philly Cheesesteak sandwich. 

Our previous flights to Europe have been on wide-bodied planes with at least 12 seats across the rear cabin. Not a ton of room, but two aisles, some space to stretch on occasion, and, if we were lucky, our own screen and a list of movies to watch.

This was not that plane. 3 seats to a side, and those sitting on the narrow aisle were guaranteed to get hit by each cart that went by. A baby sneezes on row 3 and a mother on row 26 says bless you. Actually less room than we had on the flight to Philly and not the way we planned to spend a long overseas flight. And I must say it was made even worse by the movie shown to everyone on a 14" screen: Into the Woods, a movie the three of us had seen but not enjoyed together previously. Add some turbulence, a lack of sleep, and no hot coffee or tea (due to the turbulence), and you have Zombieland. 

We nevertheless managed to get our luggage quickly and get our rental car and instructions. Vicki takes the wheel - the one on the right side of the car - and proceeds out into traffic. Within minutes, she has already made it through 3 roundabouts and passed multiple vehicles. She will own the road in a day or two. We get to Limerick without incidence, marveling at how green the country is, and, amazingly, our room in the B&B is already ready. Nap time!

We walk into town centre for lunch in a pub and take a hop on hop off tour. Limerick is lovely, and I have no doubt that there are sites to see, but we are done. It's mid afternoon and we are napping once again. 

A few shots from the tour:

I don't think we're in Memphis! One might think that the Irish speak English, but I sat in a moderately crowded pub this evening and didn't hear a single word I understood. The bartender was the only one - and he was only because he wanted to be paid. 

This is a remnant of the old wall that protected Limerick. Most of them were knocked down in the 1700s after sieges in the late 1600s. 

Lots of street art in Limerick:

Limerick is on the river Shannon, a river we will cross again in our travels.

I love European rooftops. They have character, and they are often growing things.

Finally, this is a copy of a painting in our room in the B&B. I labeled it "Gentleman on tired horse asking for the third time how to get to Hop On Hop Off Bus station." The three ladies are obviously locals and they earnestly believe they just explained quite clearly how to reach that destination. The streets in Limerick can change names in the middle of the block. In the course of less than 2 miles, Dublin St. becomes Clare St. becomes Locks Quay becomes Charlotte Quay becomes Bank Place. 

We have almost made it to 9:00pm. I'm done. Time to crash. 

Dan

And now, we drink...

For me, a lovely Irish cider...

...and for the boys:

Welcome to Ireland!!!

And now, we wait...

Driving in circles

Boys and girls, this is called a map:

For hundreds of years, these have been how humans have conveyed geographic information about the world. Maps are almost universally understood. In modern times, even in times before you were born, people traveling used printed on paper versions of these to get around in cities and countries they were not intimately familiar with. They served several purposes.

1. Knowing how to read a map would provide you with the route to your destination. 
2. After your trip, the map provided you and others an indication of where you had been, even if it was not your original destination. 
3. It was a source of frustration for one who could not refold it, a source of a feeling of mastery for one who could, and a source of entertainment for the children watching in the back seat. 
4. Old maps make great gift wrapping paper.

Many of you have never seen, much less used, a map. You rely completely on a GPS or your cell phone for directions. This generally works out well, but one day you will find yourself on a road looking for a spot that doesn't exist on your machinery, while a voice inside your GPS tells you that it is recalibrating or that you are an idiot for not doing a U-turn across 6 lanes of traffic. Paper maps don't verbally assault you. They are patient and will wait until they are needed. No batteries are required. In Ireland, we will use a map. For the uneducated or at least uninformed, the blue part is water. We will not be driving there.

So the map above is the southwest quadrant of Ireland, which is where we will be traveling. We land at the Shannon airport and head south. Vicki will be the one at the wheel. Not only is that wheel on the wrong side of the car, but she has to drive on the wrong side of the road. We will inevitably come upon a sheep who has decided it is his turn to screw around with the tourists. He will be in the middle of a narrow, winding road at the top of a cliff, daring us to try to drive by without him head butting our little car over the railing.  If I were driving, my natural reactions would likely not be suppressed in the critical moment, and I would immediately veer to the right into the path of an oncoming lorry or mow down the rest of the sheep and their shepherd.

So Vicki drives. I navigate. Stay tuned for the resulting stories.

So... we are headed out on another adventure.

This summer, the adventure won't be in a hospital (at least, not that we know of). This summer, it will be across the pond - in the U.K. In the spirit of "don't put off until tomorrow spending the money that you can spend today," and with the excuse of giving Cody a graduation (from Mississippi State University) present, we are all three headed to Ireland. We will spend our two weeks in the southwest part of the country, and then Dan and I will return to Memphis while young Cody continues his adventures in England, Scotland, and Wales. AND FUN WILL BE HAD BY ALL, DAMMIT. We hope that you will join us (via this blog, because we will be in one of those small, petrol-saving European cars, so your literally joining us would not be a good idea) (and I will be driving, so you probably wouldn't want to be there anyway)(and Dan will be navigating, so we may never be seen again).

We will be wheels up on Friday afternoon, headed for Philly and then to Shannon.

Sláinte!