“You’re going to Cork over Easter weekend? Everything will be shut. Yes I mean everything. You might not be able to eat. Take food.”
When you get encouragement like that when you tell someone you’re going on holiday, you either laugh, or stare in shock, speechless. I did one, Cam did the other. Luckily, our hilariously sarcastic friends were wrong, but they weren’t all wrong.
Cam and I arrived very (very…) early on Good Friday morning in Cork, Ireland. After being greeted by the enormous hill that preceded the entrance to Sheila’s Hostel, and taking a much needed nap (I really did mean very early) we got up to discover that…nothing was open. Okay, not nothing. But when you’re on a girls holiday in Ireland of all places and the sale of alcohol is banned. Well, it may as well have been nothing as far as we were concerned that day.
Don’t worry, we did pull ourselves together and actually decide to explore Cork beyond the pint glasses. We found a Gourmet Burger place (not GBK…proper local like) and gorged on the biggest beef patties and buns I’ve seen in awhile, then over the river and into the high street we went. Heading down St Patrick Street, we explored Cork’s city centre. We found O’Connaill’s on French Church Street, where the hot chocolate had come highly recommended. It didn’t disappoint. Walked through the English Market and bought ourselves one tiny little chocolate each at the amazing chocolate truffle stand, and Cam discovered her new favourite necklace at one of the alleyway’s vintage shops.
Then, the perfect way to round off the evening – the one place, possibly in all of Cork that had a bottle of wine or two to share with us? Sheila’s Hostel. I knew I picked this place for a reason. We also spent the evening getting to know half of the Muycullen under-17′s boys basketball team who were staying in our hostel for a tournament. I hope they did well, I have no idea, but apparently they’re pretty good…
Saturday was reserved for the Franciscan Wells beer festival. From a completely dry day in Cork to a, well, not dry one. With some new friends from Sheila’s and fellow festival folk, we tried out as many different Irish beers as we could handle. We felt it was our obligation after all… only fair really.
We did manage to make appearances at both Crane Lane and Mutton Lane – two bars/pubs that had also come highly recommended. Crane Lane had a great outdoor area down the um, lane. Mutton Lane was the absolute definition of a pokey old man’s pub but was brimming with charm. We didn’t stay (they didn’t serve food, we were hungry) but I think I really liked that place.
Sunday was kicked off with a proper roast, a film, and yes, the beer festival. It ended, in my opinion, the best way possible. We had met a comedy group, also staying in our hostel (Sheila’s is clearly quite the hive of activity…) called Foil, Arms & Hog. We were meant to be seeing their act, but the lack of a crowd on Easter Sunday meant the night was canceled, and they went back off to their home city of Dublin. Leaving me and Cam and the City Limits Comedy Club owner, Brian, to ourselves. So what else was there to do except lock up the doors, help ourselves to the bar and have a pool/Connect Four/table football tournament between the three of us while is DJ-ed on my iPod. I have never had a proper lock in at a bar like this, but it was a pretty fantastic if not completely random night.
Monday we went crazy and did the tourist thing by taking a train to Cobh, a seaside town and also the last port of call for the Titanic. We chose not to go into the Heritage Museum which apparently was a huge mistake but Cobh – little tip for you – don’t make your museum looking so small and unappealing from the outside if you’re going to charge for it. Apparently, once inside, it’s fascinating but the entrance was very deceiving. So we spent a few hours wandering the coast line, eating fish ‘n chips by the sea, and seeing the aftermath of a local fire disaster. Back on the train to Cork then…
Tuesday was a much more successful tourist day. It was also our last day in Ireland. We got up and headed on the bus to Blarney to kiss the damn stone I’ve been told so much about. It actually turns out that Blarney is a stunning little piece of land that isn’t all about the stone. The castle itself is pretty amazing, especially the tiny cavernous dungeons, and the poison garden is great, even if the police have confiscated the marijuana plants (seriously).
We explored Blarney’s Rock Cove with its Wishing Steps (apparently the witch here has agreed to grant everyone’s wishes if you go down the stairs backwards with your eyes closed in exchange for living in the grounds…) and Witch’s Garden and even searched for fairies in the grove.
Also – kissing that stone? Not as easy as you may think at first.