IRELAND

---

******* IRELAND ********

CORK .



We arrived in Cork at 10.20pm and stayed at the airport hotel. The next morning we took a 10 minute taxi to central Cork, the driver supplying us with a wealth of information about the city. You couldn't really call it a city, it was more like a large village. Lynette likened it to a large Bendigo. Cork was not as picturesque as other places we had seen, it was unique in that the main part of the town was situated between a forked river so the many bridges around the outer edges had their own charm. Several hills surrounded Cork and it was nestled in a bowl as the taxi driver described it. We had a great view from the top level of the Ambassador Hotel's 3 story building which we were lucky to check in to so early. The rest of the day was spent walking the streets and dropping into the odd pub for a drink.
We spent the majority of the evening at the Bierhhaus, which had the esteemed recognition of being voted the 3rd best pub in the world in 2007. It had over 100 varieties of beers and I quickly developed a taste for Erdinger, a german beer similar to Hoegarden. Sitting out the front, it didn't take long for us to meet some of the locals. Dennis was a balding 30 something local with a box of shampoo that we soon discovered held a live quail that he had bought and was going to keep as a pet. He decided to call it Sheila after showing us. He loved our accents, as we did his, and even offered to drive us around the nearby countryside the next day which we politely declined. He was a sculptor that used a combination of wood, steel and stone. We also met a Scottish/Italian fella, Paul and his mate Luca, an Italian. They both worked locally for Apple and gave us some info on the Italian leg of our journey.
We ended up at a late night club/bar that a friendly local, Jerry, led us to. It was here that Lynette's hair caught fire after I dipped her head towards a candle during a pash. Luckily I noticed straight away and quickly patted it out. No real noticeable damage occurred much to our relief. Gee it was funny though, a nearby couple that witnessed it were in stitches. We finished the night with a couple of night caps back at the hotel bar where we were served by Don, a delightful Irishman with a huge head.
It was Lynette's turn to have a big hangover the next morning so we decided to stay another night. I left her in bed the next morning and walked down the hill to a pub to watch the Pies smash the Cats live on TV. It was strange watching it start at 10.30 in the morning. The pub was called the Reardon. It was massive inside and decked out in red and white (as was the town) in readiness for Sunday's all-lreland gaelic football grand final. Cork were playing Down (which amusingly, and typically Irish, was up from Cork) and the players were turning up at the pub on the Monday win or lose. Marty Clarke played for Down. He played for Collingwood the past few years and was one of the best players in the gaelic league. I wondered whether the pies victory over Geelong and the fact that Cork won its last title back in 1990 was an omen.

THE WEST COAST

We caught a taxi back to the airport the next morning to arrange for a hire car so we could explore the rest of Ireland at our whim. We went to the Budget desk and to our disbelief they only had 1 car left in the small/medium range. It cost us a fortune too. About double the price for the car we had in England/Scotland for half the time. So off we went in our Nissan Aleno (or something like that) with the Mole being replaced by the Wench! (She was a lot more talkative). Less than hour up the road we arrived at the Blarney Castle with the famous Blarney Stone. The castle itself was not that big compared to others we had seen but it was still a sight to behold. We climbed up winding, narrow stairs with a bunch of elderly American tourists, passing and entering the odd room. The central part of the castle was open to the air as the 4 floors had long since vanished over time. We understood why it was so slow getting to the top as the queue moved only as fast as it took for each person to get into position to kiss the stone. The stone was positioned just below floor level on the top of the castle. There was a guy there who helped you lie on your back and assisted with guiding your hands to the railings they had recently put there. From there you almost had to do a limbo, tilting your head backwards and down to reach the stone. It was quite unsettling and i know I felt dizzy when I got back up. I was grateful for the assistance of the guy. The stone itself was only about the size of 4 standard house bricks and was slimy on the lips (hopefully not from too many people using a bit of tongue). An American lady after us farted when she was getting into position which cracked up everyone in the area.
After descending we went through the Poison Garden. This had every poisonous plant known to man with the real harmful ones enclosed in cages i.e. poison ivy ( and marijuana?). Each plant had a description and it was not surprising to see the tobacco plant as by far the biggest killer worldwide. On our way back out through the gardens we stopped and entered some caves which were pretty cool. And that was the end of our visit to Blarney.
Back in the car, it took us a couple of hours to travel to County Clare. Our first stop was at the Cliffs of Moher and they were truly spectacular. So high above the raging ocean. The wind nearly blew Netty away so I held her hand tightly as we walked along the precipice. There were golf courses in the area and I will never complain about the wind at my course again after seeing the poor guys struggle in those conditions as we drove past.
We continued through nice little towns like Doolin and Inver???? where we wanted to stay the night but the town was packed due to a match-making festival. We drove on to Galway, one of the largest cities along the west coast. Being a Saturday night we struggled to find accommodation in the city so we settled for the Carlton Hotel, a few kays out of the CBD. A nice place but there was doof doof music in an adjacent room up until 3.30 in the morning.

DUBLIN

The next day we drove from Galway on the west coast to Dublin on the east coast. The entire trip took 1 hr 45 mins!!!! The new motorway they had built allowed you to do 120 km/h. We had booked an apartment before we left so the first thing we tried to do was find it. Tried being the operative word. After driving around inner Dublin for ¾ hour, stopping in at a pub and asking directions, stopping at an internet cafe to find the phone number of the apartment owner and finally finding the damn place, Lynette walked in to find the room unmade! We rang the owner again and he directed us to a 2 bedroom apartment around the corner. I was becoming impatient because I wanted to settle in and get to a bar to watch the gaelic final which started at 3.45pm. We made it eventually, just after it had started but didn't get to watch a whole lot of the game due to conversing with a couple of the locals who weren't as interested as the rest of the city folk in the big game. Previously, as we were driving around the city, we observed thousands of people in both the red and white of Cork and the red and black of Down all walking in one direction. We later learnt that they were walking to Croke Park where the final was held, similar to the MCG in both capacity (87,000) and its central location in the city.
The game was a thriller with Cork winning by 1 point. The Irish went mad after that, cheering, singing and jumping for joy. Their passion rivals anyones when it comes to their national sport. We were advised at the pub where we watched the game that we would enjoy the pubs more in the south side of the city over the river. The north was a bit rougher and didn't have much in the way of tourist attractions. Just as we set off for the southern side we were caught in a down pour. We sought cover in the nearest pub (some 100 mtrs from the 1st one). Here we stayed for the next 4 hrs as we met a great group of rowdy Irish, headed by Steve, a Barry Hall lookalike. We've got heaps of videos of our time with them, singing their Irish songs. We were asked to sing a traditional Aussie song and when I belted out the first line of Waltzing Matilda we were pleasantly surprised to hear the rest of the table join in. The whole pub stopped and turned around to watch us. They also were calling Net “Kylie Minogue” for most of the night. She wore a Cork cowboy hat that someone had given her.
We stuck with the lads and walked over the bridge into the south side of the city, people passing us were beating drums and singing. We looked for a pub with traditional Irish music but alas, that night we found none. After bidding farewell to our newfound friends we went to a couple of other quieter bars before heading back to our apartment.
Compared to the other places we had seen so far we were not that impressed with Ireland and Dublin in particular. The people were great but there was not as much to see in regards to countryside and landmarks. The apartment in Dublin had the worst mattress we had ever slept on. We both woke up sore from bits of springs that had dug in to us during the night. My back was giving me arseholes too.
Driving to the airport to drop off the car was a nightmare. Budget rentals had given us a map of where they were located but as the airport was undergoing renovations, the map was out of date. Around and around we went, stopping to ask different people who also pointed us in the wrong direction. Lucky we allowed plenty of time to catch our plane.
It was a relief to finally hand back the car knowing that the rest of the journey would be on public transport that always knew where it was going. The car was handy in that we could visit whatever place we wanted but between Lynette's lack of navigation skills and my stressed inner city driving we would never have coped driving in non-english countries, especially driving on the other side of the road.
We took off on a RyanAir plane bound for Norway hopeful that the people were just as friendly but with better mattresses on their beds.

---

Photos

Irish signs
It was confusing when we got to this T intersection

Netty and the Dublin lads
Major celebrations after Cork won the Gaelic football grand final