Off to the Big City

Moving from Kells to Cahersiveen is only a five- or ten-mile trip, but it means much less nature and many more people. That said, Cahersiveen is hardly a city, but a town small enough for Fred and I to see the handful of people we know every time we leave the apartment. A super small, warm, friendly town.

On our way out, we encountered two sheep who'd gotten out of their field. We felt terrible as they kept running down the road ahead of us looking for a way back to a field, thinking we were chasing them.  Finally they found a little area to "hide" in till we went by, after which I hope they went back to find the right opening. 

Between Kells and Cahersiveen is a church built on the same land where Fred's ancestors' church once stood. They'd walk to it — over the mountain —for services every Sunday. The Mass Pass. We were not hardy enough to do it on foot, but we did stop and see the more modern church that stands there now, with no trace nor mention of what had been.

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been 51 years since my last confession. 😳

Our new AirBNB host let us check in a bit early, which is always nice. I knew this place would be a downgrade after our plush Roads abode, but still wasn't prepared. The back courtyard, which I had been excited about having coffee or drinks in, was weedy, overgrown, and scattered with old dog or goose poop, feathers,  and various other twigs and things. I was skeeved, which is always a very very bad start. Crumbs in the utensils drawer and a crumb on the bedspread... ugh ugh ugh. First world problems, for sure, but not my first rodeo. Having spent 13 Julys in new apartments in the central Italian town of Viterbo, Fred and I know we'll adjust in a matter of a day or two. Their crumbs become our crumbs. Nevertheless, I did weed the courtyard, sweep the refuse, and brush away the cobwebs from the patio furniture, and the crumb on the bed. Fred is on my case to be honest in my review on AirBNB, but I have an extremely difficult time doing so.

Which reminds me of when I was a kid, having dinner at a restaurant with my folks. I think it was Ken's Steak House, which is sad, because I don't otherwise recall ever having a bad meal there. (My parents were engaged there, FYI.)  Anyway, all of our meals were horrendous, the three of us moaning and groaning about it, and after I had just finished whispering — "My fish is disgusting and was definitely FROZEN! Like packaged!"—the waitress came by. "How is everything for you tonight?"  "Fine, fine, thanks, great, fine!"  We all smiled and replied in unison. We then burst out giggling when she walked away. 

Click to watch the video.  No need to watch beyond 1:00.

After unpacking, Fred went wandering to get a feel for the town, while I headed to work from one of two cafes I would end up alternating between all week:  Espresso and The Lazy Cat Café. I don't stop working while we do these "vacations," since Fred likes to draw and I like to basically immerse myself in the culture, and I always have a much nicer time relaxing if I've done something productive first. So, I got a job for about two days of work the day before and decided to put in several half days. Both cafés have lovely waitstaff, outdoor seating for when it's nice out, and cozy indoor seating. Wifi and bathrooms of course, too. All I need. 

My "office" at Espresso.

After a productive few hours, we came home, freshened up, and headed downtown to watch the Kerry/Armagh Irish football game, something we'd been anticipating for months. Sadly, we lost, but we had fabulous seats at the same place we watched something else last week. Total blur what that was, but Eurocup has been going on, too, so probably that.

I'm not sure the eyeglasses work to show scale, but these are half pints of Guinness.
SO CUTE!

There was NO food at all for dinner this time, so we had a bite across the street at Quinlan & Cooke again — more casual this time, at the bar. 

This was my potato and leak soup. Very good. As was the wine. Gone are the days when you ask for a glass of chardonnay in Ireland and they respond with, "That would be the white kind, yeah?"