It’s been fun running around the city with Barry all week, but truth be told, I’ve also been looking forward to spending a day on my own, popping into whatever stores caught my eye and spending as much time as I wanted without worrying that Barry was bored hanging out in the schmuck chair*.
Today I got my chance; he needed a day of rest, so I got to explore the city on my own. I’m not much of a shopper, but I was curious to see the stores here, from Marks & Spencer (which I’ve wanted to see ever since reading the Bridget Jones books) to Brown Thomas (which, according to the Ask Audrey column in the Irish Examiner is where the posh people shop). I also popped into Debenham’s, Dunnes, and several smaller shops that caught my eye.
It’s easy to get turned around in Cork City Centre, but difficult to get lost. Streets curve around, there are several enclosed shopping centers with entrances on multiple streets, and the major roads are crisscrossed by alleys: some are mere service alleys, some are wide enough to have one narrow lane of traffic, and others are pedestrian only, often lined with sidewalk café seating.
I simply wandered from store to alley to street, occasionally popping into a shopping center and coming out another side, walking in one direction and discovering I was heading the opposite way I thought I’d been going. The reason it’s difficult to get lost, though, is that the city centre is on a small island, so you can’t go too many blocks before you run into the River Lee. The north branch of the river is wider, with a steep hill opposite (our apartment view); the other is narrower and the opposite bank is flat. So you really can’t walk too far without the river to reorient you.
I also ran into a demonstration, from what group specifically I could not say, but they were young and enthusiastic and happy to be banging drums and talking to people about world we are leaving to our children and grandchildren. I also chatted with someone raising funds for a homeless shelter; yesterday I chatted with someone from the Irish Cancer Society, and with a big election coming up tomorrow, we’ve also had conversations with some campaign volunteers. All conversations I would likely avoid in the states, but here, I’m motivated to talk to whoever will talk to me, about whatever!
On the way home I passed this lovely building, where, yesterday afternoon, I got a wonderful massage and had a bit of a conversation about politics with the masseuse (she’s voting Sinn Féin).
*The term “schmuck chair” was coined by my friend Glenn for the chair where a husband sits looking bored while his wife shops. It’s not really gender-specific, though, as I have appreciated many fine schmuck chairs in record stores. Sometimes, if you’re really lucky, there’s an entire schmuck living room with a coffee table and magazines.
Cork Spring 