Do you believe in magic?

My weekend in Cork with Aunt Randy couldn’t have been better.  On Friday I met AR in my apartment around lunchtime and didn’t let her rest more than two hours; we went straight from Shanowen to meet my co-workers at the office and go out for drinks and tapas.  I dragged poor jet-lagged AR with me to Kavanagh’s, also known as The Gravedigger Pub, which was about 20 minutes away from my office.  The pub is located next to Glasnevin Cemetery, an eerie looking space with numerous old graves.  Cathy told me that the Cemetery used to have “grave snatchers” that would steal the bodies and use them for scientific research.  Picturing that scene really frightened me, but my mood shifted when I started thinking about the irony in visiting a cemetery with Cathy, as “Hocus Pocus” and Sarah Jessica Parker came to mind.  I felt like I was a character in the movie and that Cathy would whip out a broom at any moment and fly away! Here's a picture of us at the pub, can you spot SJP?

After the pub we got some sleep so that we’d be well rested in the morning to begin our travels in Cork.  We took the Dublin Bus to the Luas Train to the Heuston Station and arrived in Cork about 4 hours later.  We didn’t let the long day of traveling stop us from exploring the city; we quickly arrived at the Imperial Hotel (where Michael Collins, a leader in the 1916 Irish rebellion, stayed the night before he was assassinated), dropped our bags off, and booked it to the English Market.  It was definitely a perk traveling with an adult because we were able to stay in a nice hotel in a great location (a luxurious break from the hostels).  The English Market is an impressive indoor market in operation for more than 400 years.  We browsed the aisles of fresh meats, cheeses, fish, and breads and indulged ourselves with a fresh sausage sandwich, which was absolutely delicious.  I really enjoyed the experience because I could tell that the market wasn’t only appealing to tourists; plenty of locals were in our presence purchasing the fresh foods and it looked as if they shopped here regularly.  We found out that Queen Elizabeth II had visited the English Market in May!  Apparently she never eats in public, and I don’t know how she could have survived her experience in the Market without giving in to her taste buds… especially with the aroma of fresh food taking over her senses.

After The English Market, we decided to climb the hill north of city center into the district of Shandon, where we heard about the bells at the Church of St. Anne’s.  Unfortunately, by the time we arrived at the church the bells were closed to the public.  However, we kept walking and came across the Butter Museum.  We spoke with an older lad who seemed really passionate about butter (hysterical), and he led us inside.  We learned about the economic prosperity Cork faced when they were able to create a marketed butter brand and butter roads to sell the product outside of the area.  One of the most interesting parts of the museum was the section on folklore.  Back in the day, butter makers used to believe that witches stole their product.  They used to perform rituals to prevent the butter from being stolen, such as pouring salt over it.  Serious believers in folklore used to even put hands from dead bodies on top of the butter so the witches wouldn’t steal it!

The Butter Museum was quite an experience, but our night didn’t end there.  We headed to the Franciscan Well Brewery, a microbrewery (actually a rarity in Ireland) built on the site of a Franciscan monastery where legend has it that the well water was a miraculous curative.  Some lads outside suggested a drink to us, and when I arrived inside and looked at their suggestion I immediately laughed; the alcohol content of that specific beer was the highest on the menu.  I wonder if they were trying to pull a prank on us or if they actually thought we would enjoy their selection.  We ended up ordering two glasses of Rebel Reds (“a robust amber ale with a distinct caramel flavour”) and really enjoyed them.  After our drinks we went to a delicious Italian restaurant, Rossini’s (which our lovely cab driver recommended to us), with a live piano player and singer.

The next morning we woke up early to make sure we arrived at our breakfast buffet in time.  We headed out soon after to St. Anne’s Church to ring the bells.  The top of the church houses four clocks on each face, and all four faces show slightly different times which has earned it the nick-name “the four faced liar.”  Originally I thought that the experience of ringing the bells might be corny but I was pleasantly surprised at how much I ended up enjoying it.  We put on ear-muffs to protect ourselves from the loud noise of the bells and winded our way up the tower’s stone stairs.  There were several floors before we finally reached the top (which supposedly has the best view of the city.)  The first floor contained the actual bells, so we stayed there for a while and played a few classics using the music sheets to alert the city of our arrival.  On our climb we learned about the historical significance of the eight bells, which were first installed in the summer of 1752 as a gift from Daniel Thresher.  The bells first rang out on the 7^th of December in 1752 to alert the city of the marriage of Henry Harding and Catherine Dorman.  After taking some pictures we headed back down the narrow passageway and signed our name in the guest-book. 

We decided to travel to Blarney Castle for our next stop, which was also probably my favorite.  We walked around the castle and found “the dungeon” and the Watchkeeper’s Lookout Tower.  Then we went inside and began to climb to the top, where we passed by what used to be the kitchen and some bedrooms in the castle.  When we reached the top I was surprised to find that kissing the Blarney Stone would be a lot scarier than I had anticipated.  I visualized a little rock on the top of the castle that was easily accessible and not dangerous to reach.  However, I hadn’t pictured the location of the rock to be on the edge of the castle, where I had to be held by an older lad so I wouldn’t fall down!  I had to lie down on my back, grip the handle bars, and lean way back to make sure that I hit the right location.  My favorite sign read: “The prize for kissing the stone has always been a great one but in the past, it was a dangerous challenge.  Today, the introduction of solid iron bars for protection ensures that you need only flirty with eternity.”

Legend has it that kissing the Blarney Stone gives one the gift of gab- or the gift of eloquence.  Winston Churchill, among other noteworthy names, has been at this very location and kissed the stone. The Discovery Travel channel lists kissing the Blarney Stone amongst its 99 things to do before you die. I can check that one off my bucket list now.  On the way down from the castle we passed by the murder hole, which was used to deter outsiders and assailants from the premises entering the lobby through the use of boiling liquids, stones, or other missiles dispatched from the hole.  I thought it was fascinating learning about the castle and I had such a great time exploring the area and picturing what life would have been like in those times.  I picked up some souvenirs from the gift shop since this was one of my favorite places I’ve been so far.  Whoever I decide to give them to must follow the directions on the package; I don’t want to give too much away but let’s just say that I know the souvenirs will bring the recipients some Irish luck (you'll see why soon.) 

After walking around the castle, stopping for a tea break, and exploring “The Poison Garden” we decided to go on a quick hike.  The best part of the hike was the “wishing steps,” which relates back to the folklore that the Irish used to follow.  Apparently, the Blarney Witch has taken firewood from the Estate for her kitchen, and in return she must grant visitors to the castle wishes.  In order to receive a wish, you must walk down and back up the steps with your eyes closed, and without for one moment thinking of anything other than a wish.  We both decided to make the scary climb up and down the slippery steps and ended our journey alive.  Hopefully our wishes will come true.  During that same folkloric themed hike we passed by the Witch’s Kitchen, the Witch and Druid Stones, the Sacrificial Altar, and the Fairy Glade.  The day was seriously “magical,” and even though I don’t think I believe in a lot of the folklore, it was interesting to learn about some of the myths as it gave me a sense of what Irish culture looked like in the past.

On our way back from the castle we started talking to our cab driver.  Luckily, Aunt Randy loves talking to strangers just as much as I do, so we had a ball interacting with numerous locals whenever we were in a cab or at a destination.  This cab driver told us about a pub that was located right near our apartment called “Canty’s,” which he claimed played the best live music in the city.  We stopped by the area due to his suggestion before dinner and I could tell he was glad we listened to him.  I think Aunt Randy liked the music more than I did though.  After Canty’s we went to a delicious Indian restaurant and relaxed from our long day.  I had originally intended to explore a pub with AR after dinner, but I was so tired from the day that I decided it would be better if I passed out and rested up so I could enjoy our last morning in Cork.

The next morning we got off to a late start and couldn’t decide how to occupy the limited time we had left in the city.  After speaking with the concierge we decided to call a taxi to take us to the Cork Gaol, which used to house prisoners, many of which had roles in the rebellion.  We went on a tour and put on headphones with background information telling us about several prisoners that used to live in the facilities and their stories.  I definitely wouldn’t have wanted to be a prisoner in those times; inmates weren’t allowed to talk to each other and the conditions were miserable.  I had a good time exploring the premises but this was probably one of my least favorite destinations because I felt like I didn’t get as much out of it as the other sites.  The tour was rather short and we ended it feeling like we wanted more information.

This post is getting really long so I’ll try to wrap it up in this paragraph.  After the Gaol we headed back to the train to embark back to Dublin.  Once we got off the train AR realized that I had left my bag of souvenirs under my seat!  I was so disappointed because I had just picked them out the day before and couldn’t wait to give them to my friends.  I also purchased gifts that couldn’t be retrieved in any other location other than Blarney.  AR decided we should try to go back to the station and see if there was a lost and found section.  I thought the chances were slim that we’d find them but I went along with her plan.  We took a taxi and explained what had happened, and the cab driver was absolutely amazing.  He called the station for us and informed them that we were on our way and looking for a missing item.  Then he approached the man at the gate and told them what happened.  At first, the man told us that the lost and found section had closed five minutes ago and that nothing had been turned in.  I was so bummed… but then he asked me what I had left, and I told him it was a Blarney gift bag.  So he told me he’d check the area just in case, and one minute later he returns with the bag!  I would have never found it without the help of our cab driver, who knew just the right person to ask.  I truly think that kissing the Blarney stone brought me luck in finding the right person to seek out my lost items (even though I was the person responsible for losing the items in the first place… but still!)  The experience of finding the lost gifts in a crowded train station (a task I thought would be impossible) is the reason I just know that everyone who receives the small gift will also benefit from a lot of luck.  Maybe I should take the Irish folklore more seriously after all… the saying "the luck of the Irish" might actually hold true.