Weekend in Cork City

These next four days were much of the same, so they get ONE post.

Thursday, we left the little hamlet of Kells and drove to Cork City via Shanacloon (a section of Kilgobnet) where the Sullivans came from (on my mother’s side) and then Kilgarvan (for more of Fred’s roots —Shea). These were just quick drive-throughs since we hadn’t any more to go on than the names of the towns. They were SMALL, sometimes just the intersection of two roads. The driving, by the way, is getting much smoother. I no longer need two hands to put the car in reverse, and changing gears is less lurchy as I now know the difference between the locations of first and third gears. 

Fred's caption: You can take the girl out of Kilgobnet, but you can't take the Kilgobnet out of the girl.

Kilgarvan.

Once in Cork, we easily found our AirBNB which was good enough, but for a few huge mosquito/leggy spider things in corner cobwebs. It’s an uneasy feeling to be in someone else’s home to begin with, but for there to be bugs and webs is a tough start. And super old worn-out carpeting. Ugh :(  And no top sheet on the bed…. hoping to God they wash the duvet cover in between guests. The patio of which they boast was completely overgrown with weeds and branches. But in true Irish fashion, I will not write a negative review. Instead I will “say nothing.” 

Good book (per Fred) called "Say Nothing."

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/02/22/books/review/say-nothing-patrick-radden-keefe.html

Trad music at The Corner House per Chris and Natalie’s suggestion, and dinner at the bar at Gallaghers — both of which were in our ‘hood, the “Victorian Quarter.”  

Here them here:  https://youtu.be/Y0jPKCzD310

Dapper fellow!

Cork was a whiplash experience after our very rural windblown coastal visit. It was a bit jarring for us. So many people, so much grit. Fred found the areas of his roots to be quite grim in a different way than the rocky ruins of Kells. Not so romantic, I would say. Plus no Brian, Ann-Marie, Pat or Mary Lynch… And no Chris and Natalie. 

Friday in Cork poured — as did Thursday, I believe. Fred got soaked and trudged around a lot. Have I mentioned we brought no rain coats to Ireland? I went on a walking tour with a NJ couple and Noel, the guide, a retired entertainment journalist. Very sadly, I got word halfway through the tour that my uncle had died. I walked through the rest of the tour in a daze, texting my sons the news, and stole away at the end to head back to a church to light a candle. I'm not religious but figured it can't hurt and somehow it does feel good to do. 

Fred and I had drinks in our living by the open door that led to the patio, and then dinner up the street outside at a pizza /tapas place. Horrendous pizza but we both ate every bite.

Saturday.. lovely morning... Fred off to draw and I blogged at a perfect coffee shop with the best vibe in a cute neighborhood called St. Lukes, right where that pizza place was the night before. Sarah Vaughn, Chet Baker, Frank Sinatra wafted through the air… after a TON of Elton John probably because he was in town for a concert, which was apparently amazing. "Two and half hours, at 75 years old. He really plays the piano well." was what I overheard later. I was inside and outside at times because of the rain, which of course, came. And went.

St. Luke's Square in the Victorian Quarter of Cork.

Later, walking down a narrow street with a church at the end, I heard bells chiming what seemed to be Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star. I thought, is this some kind of joke? I asked an old man coming my way if what I was hearing was what we know as Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star... or the Alphabet Song, but his response to my question, which I posed every which way, was always: "Those are the chimes! Yes! Is it three o'clock? Well, yes, then those are the chimes!"  There was a big tower attached to this church which I climbed only to learn that the bells were coming from THIS tower and they can be rung by anyone who climbs it! They have instructions on how to play FOUR songs. Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star, the theme from Top Gun (hello????), Amazing Grace and Ode to Joy. Naturally, I chose the Grace song for the whole town to hear. Super fun!

The Church Tower

The climb.

The ropes to pull the bells.

 
The View.

Pouring rain again, I found refuge in a "bun" shop called Dolce, had tea and a little tiny cake they gave me for free — like a cream puff and then met Fred for a pint at Mutton Lane Inn Pub — a pub a very distant relation once owned. VERY cool spot… Then walked back and left again for dinner at Son of a Bun where I had a great salad and Fred had an epic burger. We chatted a bit with a guy named Ed Crosbie whose family is famous in Cork for owning the newspaper for generations. He was very knowledgeable about world politics.. and liberal, thank God.

Mutton Lane Inn Pub (all three of these)