More Blarney

The rents and I woke up long before the sun to take a Paddywagon tour of Cork, Cobh, and Blarney (yes, that is the name of the tour company!  They drive a giant green bus with leprechauns painted on the side...if people didn't know you were a tourist before, then they sure know now!) 

Cork is about 3 and a half hours south of Dublin so it was going to be a long day---we were on the road from 6:30am until 8pm.  It was definitely well worth the trip though because the day was packed with all sorts of new sights and scenes. 

First, we were hearded together, placed on a separate bus and told to get off at the Cork station.  The bus smelled like stale air and mold, and the driver kept making random stops---he would pick up someone on the side of the road and then drop him off 20 minutes later in a shopping center.  What was going on?  It was only later that we figured out that it was a public bus, unassociated with the tour company.  When we finally got to our station, a new tour guide appeared and told everyone for the Paddywagon to get off here, so we exited sheepishly with the rest of the local bus-takers looking at us funny. 

From there, our tour guide Mike picked up more people in Cork and then headed to Cobh (pronounced Cove).  It seemed just like a sleepy fishing village, but don't let the view fool you---just like everywhere else in Ireland, the town was rich with history.  Cobh was the final port of call for the Titanic, the site of the bombing of the Lusitania in World War I, and also the exit point for millions of Irish immigrants during the Potato Famine and onwards.  It is also the only city so far that forced you to pay for the bathroom!!! 

After a 3 and a half hour ride from Dublin and then another 45 minutes on the short bus, I was about to explode.  I spent only precious moments in the gorgeous Cathedral at the top of the hill because my bladder just couldn't take it anymore, and Dad and I raced each other down the winding streets to find the public bathrooms on the docks.  "LOCKED!  Must Pay 25 cents to Enter!" the sign read.   Seriously!?  I did my own Irish jig as I searched through my backpack for 50 cents.

Once that was taken care of, we were able to explore the city at a more leisurely pace.  The whole issue of emmigration really started with the Potato Famine, also known as the Great Famine, between 1845-52.  Potato growth had failed all over Europe so everyone was struggling, but because many of Ireland's peasants relied solely on one crop as food, the failure hit them extra hard.  Also, because of the way Ireland was being ruled at the time, there was an unequal distribution of food and millions died of starvation.  Millions also emmigrated---they left of their own free will to look for word abroad, but many were also forced to leave on prison ships to Australia. 

If you stole a loaf of bread, you were sent into overcrowded jails and then off to the newly British-ruled Australia as a penal colony.  Cobh would have been the last sight of Irish homeland that many people ever saw. 

Although emmigration is no longer forced, many people are still leaving Ireland by the thousands.  I'm always used to the problem of Immigration that we have at home, but here, Emmigration is a huge problem.  In fact, it is one of the debate platforms for the upcoming election.  How do they stop Ireland's youth from leaving the country?  Ireland, traditionally one of the poorest countries in Europe, had a huge boom a few years back and was named the Celtic Tiger.  Massive amounts of money were poured into the country and huge growth was made (including all of the major motorways that we took down to Cork today).  At one point, Ireland had 100% employment which, believe it or not, is actually unhealthy for an economy because it was unsustainable. 

With the recession, Ireland was hit almost just as hard as back home (I realize the irony that I left one country to go to one of the few other countries that is actually worse!).   If you ask the average college age student what their future plans include, most of them say that they plan on leaving the country to find jobs.  Just under 4.5 million people live in the Republic of Ireland and the numbers continue to shrink. This is part of the problem with their massive debt crisis---a population that small can't afford the taxes needed to pay off the debt.  The whole situation is mind-boggling to me since it is typically the reverse at home---people generally want to come to the US, not leave it. 

Anywho, later on, we went onward to Blarney Castle.  I was expecting a major tourist trap, but it was actually one of the most fun places that we visited.  The castle is massive, at least five stories reach upwards, and at the top, you have an amazing view of all the surrounding towns, fields, and rivers.  The stone is a bit treacherous with disrepair and thousands of tourists tromping around---the spiral staircase leading to the top has slanted steps that are wet with the day's rain.  If you have vertigo, I wouldn't recommend it, but it is amazing to climb around. 

Everything is as lush green as you would expect, even though it is only February.  A tiny river runs before the castle and just completes the whole setting, as though you had just stepped into a fairy tale.  The castle itself is an unguided tour and every nook is open for you to explore, including the massive maze of underground caves below.  They say that there are pathways in the caves which lead all the way back to Cork so that people could leave the castle undetected---but no one has ever found them. 

There was one girl on the trip who was by herself, so we adopted her for the day.  I'm usually the one on my own around here, so it was nice to be able to return the favor.  Kathi was from Berlin and we enjoyed spending the day together (in fact, a few days later, she visited the museum so I gave her a mini private tour and we grabbed coffee afterwards).  Together, we explored all of the offshoot rooms in the castle, including the murder hole room (a whole in the floor where soldiers would pour boiling oil on incoming invaders), the massive family room with the huge hearth for roasting pigs and sheep, the archers' window slits, and the tiny bedrooms (now just bare stone walls).  The place must have been freezing in the winter!

Today, there is no roof on the castle so the whole area has a wonderful open feel and the daylight is able to pour in (we were lucky that the rain held off for the 2 hours we were there).  At the very top, you can kiss the Blarney Stone: a small rock that is part of the outside wall.  A whole has been cut in the floor so you have to lie down on your back and push yourself down so your head hangs below the wall.  A man whose sole job is to hold people so they don't fall) grabs you around the waist and helps you lean back so that you hang halfway outside.  It is perfectly safe, but the ground still seems very far down! 

Once you are able to kiss the Blarney Stone, you are supposedly bestowed with the gift of the gab for seven years.  You used to get the gift for a lifetime, but it was changed to seven years---probably to get you to come back!  (Don't worry---mom had wet wipes to wash off our mouths afterward....I heard through the grapevine that the guys from Cork sometimes pee on the stone as a joke.  I'm still glad that we did it nonetheless because it is one of the top tourist attractions in Ireland.)  The gift of the gab means that you are able to talk to anyone and instantly speak with great eloquence and charm. 

"Blarney" was actually introduced into the English language because of the King of Munster who owned Blarney Stronghold.  Queen Elizabeth I had wanted all the Irish lords to pay her homage and acquiese their lands to her.  The Cormac McCarthy, the king, knew that he could not flat out refuse or risk losing his head in the process.  Instead, he would delay by sending her massively long notes which expounded her beauty and poise as a leader, but never actually said the words that she wanted to hear.  In exasperation, she finally cried that the reports were all "Blarney" and the word came into being. 

A sign at the Castle explained the difference between Blarney and Baloney:
"Baloney is when you tell a 50-year old woman that she looks 18. Blarney is when you ask a woman how old she is, because you want to know at what age women are most beautiful.”

It was such a lovely day that we were able to walk through the tree groves and explore the rock glen.  The glen was a the most brilliant hue of green and had trees growing wildly around and huge rocks covered with a vibrant moss were stacked on top of one another.  You could guess that fairy tales and leprechauns were not difficult to imagine in a place like this.  I felt like I was in a story book. 

We even climbed the wishing stairs.  It is a long series of steps cut out of a massive boulder.  If you can climb up and back with your eyes closed and only thinking of one wish, then that wish will come true.  I just wished that I wouldn't trip and fall the whole time, so I guess that the wish worked! 

All in all, it was a gorgeous day and I'm so glad that I got to spend it with my parents (and Kathi).  My only complain is that there wasn't enough time to see and do everything!   We all arrived back to the hotel that night exhausted but happy.