06 - There Once Was Some Blarney in Cork

I survived the live Irish music from the previous night, returning to the hotel about 9:30 pm (or so I'm told!)

Next morning, it finally stopped raining! As this was to be another short-drive day, Mom, Dad, and I had time to stretch our legs in the city of Limerick. Of course, if you're expecting sunshine and blue sky, you've not been to Ireland. Ireland is as allergic to blue sky as I am to short, winter days. Fortunately, it's still autumn.

After strolling around Quimper Square and seeing a sign for the well-known Milk Market, (which is only on Saturday, which this was not,) our first goal to was to find the Limerick City Library.

For those who somehow don't already know, the last few dozen years of Mom's working years were spent either managing or working on behalf of libraries. Despite that, she's always been a bookworm, and still enjoys seeing how other localities set up their libraries. Personally, if I worked at an ice cream stand, the last thing I'd want to have at day's end is ice cream! (Then again, my career involves computers, yet I'm typing this on a computer during my spare time - OR AM I??? Boss, if you're reading this, yes, I am!)

We let Dad, using his navigation/maps app on his phone, guide us at this point, following him toward the Fashion District.

Above: Along Little Catherine Street

Above: Do you want to see O'Connor for "general meats" or O'Connell for pork?

Above: More on Little Catherine Street

Above: Shannon Street in the Fashion District

The trek to the Library's draining! In case you happen to be familiar with Limerick, leaving Quimper Square toward the Fashion District suggests that Dad was perhaps walking us to the library in Cork. No worries, as that was our destination today! Of course, it would be best not to leave the rental car - or B. - in Limerick, so onward we trekked toward (well, eventually) the library. Here's our walking path in Limerick.

Since the library was somewhere "near the water" and the River Shannon was nearby, we headed for its swans, stillness, and a faint rainbow. Even if it wasn't raining here - yet - it's always raining somewhere in Ireland, or at least that's what an Irish person told me, though I'm sure he or she used 27 sentences to do so.

For those who *can* read a map, you'll note above that our hotel, "The Old Quarter," was quite far from the Limerick City Library! However, on the way from the Fashion District to the River Shannon, we crossed Henry Street where The Old Man pointed north and triumphantly proclaimed "THERE [is the Library]!" while pointing at the (not pictured and unvisited) Limerick Museum.

Also along the River Shannon is the memorial statue of Limerick-born Terry Wogan.

Looking at Terry's picture on Wikipedia, I wonder if the sculptor liked Mr. Wogan.

As we walked past the painted serpent surrounding the bollard - not knowing what was to come - and headed under the Sarsfield Swivel Bridge...

...toward the University of Limerick, many colorful characters were there to meet us!

Above: Why is the friar nervous?

Above: Is it this guy with the hatchet?

Above: Or the Viking? Or the shark?

Above: Or these sharks across the roadway?

Above: Movable trees!

Walking along Honan Quay bordering Arthur's Quay Park - they're apparently adjacent - and in the interest of finding the library before [insert witty comment here], I took over navigation duties.

Above: Rusty flowers along Arthur's Quay Park

Above: What's the math here?

I sent Mom & Dad ahead while snapping some pics of King John's Castle upriver and the hills of Ballymanty beyond it.

As we passed Opera Square, (and its ongoing construction to which we'll attribute The Old Man's inhibited sense of direction,) we finally reached the Library!

Above: Mom at home

Above: "Never exaggerate"? This is the most amazing bike repair station EVER!

After retrieving our luggage and wife from the hotel, we were back on the road again. As mentioned, this was to be another easy, short driving day, the entire trip taking about 90 minutes not including only one planned stop in Blarney, perhaps to see (but not kiss because "EWWWW!") the Blarney Stone and Blarney Castle.

After this brief drive... Here's our path:

The first 10 minutes or so featured a fairly featureless M-class road. The good news is that the sun came out at about the moment we left it to turn south on the N-class road and intermittently brightened our journey and our spirits for the rest of the way.

About halfway there, a bit past the village of Buttevant - which I know the name of because trying to find the location of ancient, unmarked, roadside abbey ruins based on the pictures before and after it lead to me finding this article which then lead to finding where in the green, green giant an Irish pub named "Moloney's" might be - was the ancient, unmarked, roadside abbey ruins of Ballybeg Priory.

While it's figuratively true that one can't spit in Ireland without hitting some ancient ruin of a Norman castle rebuilt by the Brits and then rebuilt again after a fire or two, often intentionally set on the way into or out of town, Ballybeg Priory is one of only two substantial 13-century Augustinian monasteries in County Cork. (The other one is slightly better shape but is still a ruin.) While we couldn't get into it without risking our lives, you might take a moment to read the Wikipedia article about it as the inside is a bit nicer than the outside.

That said, allow me to pontificate momentarily on the relative joy of finding 800 year-old ruins in a damp, sun-drenched filled when compared to the money-making, sealed off, tourist-trip castles such as Blarney. We were excited when we saw the sign for the turn-off toward Blarney Castle and, less so, the sign for Blarney Business Park. In reality, they seemed to be about the same thing.

I'll save you the pics of the tall fence surrounding even the briefest of views of Blarney Castle.

Rather than pay more than 100 euro (for all of us) to endure the crowds of a slightly older, more recently (and often) rebuilt, and more restored version of the stone ruins we'd just left, we chose to press on toward Cork. We knew we'd made the right decision when we were almost immediately rewarded with a full rainbow (and, within a few minutes, its shower.)

...In Cork, we'll arrive! An hour later, we were in Cork where we divided a conquered. I had previously made a day trip to Cork and visited the Cork County Gaol (Jail) and its radio museum. Therefore, I had no interest in seeing them again, but Dad *is* a radio whose high-frequency emissions are sometimes dangerous. (For you ham radio friends of his who might be reading this and thinking, "Wow, he got the upgraded chip!?!?!" please stand down on your complaint letters; it's just a fart joke.)

Anyway, I dropped The Old Man off at the prison here are some of the salvageable pictures he took of the County Gaol

And the radio museum.

WARNING: I *might* have gotten the above order correct. Ask Dad! :)

Meanwhile, after a futile attempt to find parking at the Butter Museum - Did I stutter? You read that correctly! - I dropped Momma B. and B. at the BnB and bee-lined it back into the city to take some pictures and pick Dad up.

Cork is known as a lovely city, but driving on the hills above the river is an exercise in navigating narrow two-way streets with cars parked on one or both sides, effectively making them one-way streets where there's a perpetual game of "Chicken" where a car is always coming right at you and then, at the last moment before impact, the "loser" tucks into an empty hole between parked cars or onto a hopefully-empty sidewalk to let the "winner" pass. After only 10 or 15 rounds of this while dropping Dad off and getting to the BnB, Mom & B. had their share of this panic, so I'm glad I dropped them before heading back.

Meanwhile, after picking up Dad, I drove while he took pictures. I'm omitting the ones that could be used for our prosecution of traffic offences. (Yes, with a 'c'; this is Ireland!)