Jim Fotter

We had a very decent night's sleep in our apartment, but we did wake up to what I was assuming was trash collection day given the loud sounds of grinding metal and broken glass.

We later discovered that this was the delivery of many kegs of beer to the neighborhood. We really are staying in "Pub Central". When I was researching the top 10 pubs in Kinsale, most on the list are meters away from our flat.

Jim C graciously ran to the store and picked up some groceries and cappuccinos for breakfast in our space. I'm reminded that the thing I will cherish most upon our return are meals at home. As nice as it has been to have some incredible meals out, the thought of preparing are own meals again feels like a different sort of luxury.

We decided to go to the Blarney Castle today which is located just outside of the city of Cork in the town of Blarney. The visit was to see the famous Blarney stone where purported if you kiss the stone, you are given the gift of eloquence and flattery.

Growing up with all the Irish relatives on my mother's side of the family, I would always think of the term blarney as being a "bullshitter" or someone who jabbers unending nonsense. In a more positive light, I see the gift of blarney in someone who can strike up a conversation with anyone.

Dating back to my elementary school days, my report cards were often riddled with derogatory teachers' comments like "socializes too often with others" or "spends too much time talking with others". Upon reflection, it's interesting to see that behaviors that were seen as deficits in my youth, served me well as an adult. Perhaps the refinement over time was learning to listen more than just talk, but the ability to strike up a conversation with strangers has been poweful for my career, and it helped me meet my husband. 💚 Ironically, I attribute my "gift of gab" to my French-Canadian father.

Ok, enough of my blarney birdwalk...

We arrived at the grounds of the castle. The grounds are absolutely spectacular. I should note that I knew that in order to kiss the Blarney Stone, that one has to maneuver in a prone position with your head upside down to kiss the specific stone. I was missing one very important detail: The stone is positioned 85 feet above the ground with a gap near the parapet where you can see below to the ground. I watched with horror from the ground as we approached the castle walls, and we could see people being "assisted" to kiss the stone. The line marker that announced that we had a 60-minute wait to arrive at the stone, and I felt the same nervous anticipation that I've experienced in lengthy amusement park rides with dizzying heights as a component of the experience.

The procession to the castle was lined with many informational placards. I learned that the castle was owned by the MacCarthy family who loved to entertain. I recognized, with a sense of pride, the coat of arms from my own family; my maternal grandmother was a McCarthy and they have roots in Cork County.

As we made our way through the castle ruins, we could see various placards naming the rooms and activities in the castle. We then began the very narrow, claustrophobic climb up the "Tower of Terror". I was determined to go up despite a marked fear of heights and a pretty strong dislike of cramped spaces. We navigated the hundred steps to the top.

I have always loved the view and despised the process to achieve it. This was no exception. As we approached the stone, I confirmed that there was no way that I was dangling my head upside down with the ground visible below despite iron bars making it impossible to fall through. The last few informational panels described numerous legends surrounding the stone including business dealings, grateful witches and Faerie magic. I couldn't locate the Satan legend, but I'm sure it was there somewhere.

You might think this is irrational, but I'm the guy who pauses stepping over the minute gap between the floor and an elevator convinced that my ample frame will somehow manage to fall through the crack. (Note: Before the safeguards were installed, the kiss was performed with real risk to life and limb, as participants were grasped by the ankles and dangled bodily from the height.)

I was afforded the opportunity to witness the vicarious thrill (terror) of my husband being pulled to the vicinity of the stone for a photo op. His first words to me were "Yeah, you would have hated that."

We made it back down the set of stairs to the ground and we walked to the next seemingly safer exhibit of the "Poisonous Plants Garden". Cannabis was one of the plants displayed. As the saying goes, "you pick your poison". I could have used a visit to the garden prior to the heart palpitation adventure.

I loved our walk through the garden. The flowers and forest grounds were really beautiful and peaceful. Much of the time, we felt like we had the park to ourselves.

We left the park, and stopped Cork for a beer. While I'm not a big beer fan, I have enjoyed the Irish Red ales.

We returned to the apartment for a nap and we enjoyed a leisurely dinner at "The Black Pig" a local wine bar. Our server was delightful, and we hit it off after we complimented her on her skillful dispatch of obnoxiously entitled neighboring guests who were furious that they couldnt seat nine guests at a table barely designed for six. They left in a huff, and it made our dinner that much more enjoyable. I really do feel for staff in the hospitality business. I know most establishments are very understaffed, and we appreciate their hard work. Despite the absence of tipping culture in Europe, we've tried to show our appreciation.

Signing off with gratitude for another wonderful day. ☘️ 💞Read more