Author: Claire

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Cork City Durham Ireland Traveling

The long road home

If our time in Ireland taught me one thing, it is that after the rain comes the rainbow. It’s difficult to envision a rainbow right now, as the entire world shelters in place from this storm.

Friday morning was rainy, but we had a lot of packing and cleaning to do anyway. Once our packing was complete, the sun came out, and we went out for a last walk around Cork. We walked the length of Main Street and across the river to St. Fin Barre’s Cathedral, where we walked the labyrinth.

The labyrinth at St. Fin Barre’s Cathedral

We walked back east along the River Lee, then back west along Oliver Plunkett Street. Then just up and down the Grand Parade a couple of times. Being sure to keep appropriate distance from other people, of course.

We circled back towards the apartment but weren’t ready to go back yet. So we crossed the river to the north and walked out along the greenway, crossed back on the Mardyke Bridge and circled home.

The Mardyke Bridge over the River Lee. The building in the distance is the Music Department of University College Cork.

There were no direct flights from Cork to the U.S., and we didn’t think it was wise or desirable to spend hours in a UK or European airport on our way home. Our original flights were between Dublin and Philadelphia, so we changed our original, late April flight date to March 15. We rented a car and drove to Dublin and stayed at the Clayton Hotel near the airport. It appears to have several lovely restaurants, but we elected to eat peanut butter and marmite sandwiches in our room. They had hand sanitizer at the front desk, and allowed us to top off the rapidly diminishing pocket-size bottle I’d bought in January.

Soon after we booked our flight, Trump announced that anyone returning from the UK or Ireland would be subject to health screening and could only return through one of 11 airports — and Philadelphia was not one of them. The new restrictions would go into effect the day after our scheduled departure. We really needed to be on this flight.

On Sunday we got up before the crack of dawn and took the shuttle to the airport. We didn’t even stop for coffee, which turned out to be a good thing since I don’t think our bladders would have survived the wait. The airport was a madhouse. Thousands of Americans all trying to get the hell out of Dodge before the deadline. Most were young people — study abroad students ending their semester early, or returning from a limited study trip, or simply having headed to Ireland in the hopes of enjoying a festive Saint Patrick’s Day.

Besides the normal back-up of a crowded airport (the lines at San Diego airport after Comic-con were to date the longest I’d seen), Dublin Airport has U.S. pre-clearance, so you go through Customs there, not upon arrival. And you go through security twice, once for the airport, once for the U.S. area. In the confusion of arranging my toiletries for what I needed in Cork Saturday morning and in Dublin Saturday night and Sunday morning and what needed to be in checked luggage and what I needed to carry with me, I inadvertently left a small bag of liquids in my carry-on. So of course I got pulled over and had to empty the bag (once they saw what it was they wagged a finger but didn’t make me ditch any of it). I also discovered that my fitness tracker triggers the alarm, so I took that off for the second screening.

There were inexplicable delays. At one point, security screenings just stopped, for maybe 30 minutes. In Customs, they sorted us into two groups: people who had been in other European countries in the last 10 days and those who had not. Ours was the smaller group, I believe, so we moved a bit more quickly to the head of the queue to meet with a Customs officer. They have you stand on a numbered yellow square and await the officer at the desk with that number. We were on yellow square #12, next to be screened, when someone came through and said (loud enough for us to hear, but not the crowd behind us) “Stop processing people. Get representatives from the airlines out here.”

At that point Barry turned to me and said “We could be sleeping in this airport tonight.”

We were stuck on that square for about an hour. Most people behind us gave up and sat on the floor. They escorted small groups to the toilets (hooray, no coffee!). They passed out bottles of water.

I have no idea why they halted the Customs processing, or why it resumed, but what the airline representatives had to say was good news: they were delaying flights until everyone was on board. Since we’d had our boarding passes scanned at least twice already, they clearly knew who was at the airport but not yet at the gate.

Once Customs finally re-opened, we were of course next in line, and breezed through quickly. We even had time for Barry to buy a bottle of Teeling whiskey at the Duty Free shop!

Thankfully, we were not held too long on the ground once we boarded the plane. It was crowded but not completely full — we were the only people in a center row of five seats. The flight was uneventful, with little turbulence. We finally got a cup of coffee! We had lunch for breakfast, and I swear to you that airplane food never tasted so good. Even the salad was crisp and delicious. And when they served ice cream about six hours into the eight-hour flight I was as giddy as a 5-year-old.

We had another, even longer drive ahead of us, so we stayed the night at another airport hotel. The Microtel near the Philadelphia airport may well be the second saddest lodging I’ve ever seen (the first is a nightmare stay in a place in Las Vegas that I dubbed The Hotel That Time Forgot, but that’s a tale for a different blog). Whereas we were content to eat in our room at the Clayton, there was no way we wanted to spend any extra time awake in this depressing space. We decided to risk the outside world for dinner at Ruby Tuesday, the only restaurant within walking distance. It was fine, but believe it or not it was the most expensive meal of our trip! And that was with just entrees, one beer and two glasses of wine. No appetizers, desserts, or side dishes.

You would think that with all of this, we would have been in a hurry to get home the shortest way possible. But the shortest way possible is I-95 through Baltimore, DC, and Richmond. We took it to the outskirts of Baltimore, shot over to Frederick, MD, and headed south on U.S. 15. Significantly longer, but a must less stressful road. And central Virginia is almost as pretty as Ireland (but with dilapidated barns instead of crumbling castles).

We returned the rental car this morning, so our trip is now officially, completely over. Now starts the next adventure. A friend is doing a grocery run for us so that we can avoid bringing any airport germs to the Harris Teeter. The cherry trees are in bloom, and even some of the azaleas. It was warm enough to sit on the front porch yesterday evening. We’re home.

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day.

Categories
Durham Ireland

What we didn’t get to finish

We’ve had a fantastic time here in Ireland, especially in Cork City, which we’ve both come to love. And we’ve done a lot of what we came here to do, and more: we’ve been all over the city centre and immediate outskirts, been to Blackrock Castle and Blarney Castle and Gardens and the Ring of Kerry, been to Midleton and Cobh and Kinsale and Youghal. We took advantage of living above a movie theater to see Parasite on a rainy day, and saw one film at the Cork French Film Festival. Barry found “a local” where everybody knew his name when he stopped in to watch a football match. We drank Murphy’s and Guinness and Beamish, tasted some Irish whiskies, ate fish and chips (and chips and chips…lots of chips), had a full Irish breakfast, beef and Guinness stew and seafood chowder.

We’ve also gone places and met people and done things that hadn’t been on our radar. We found a games cafe (not unlike Atomic Fern in Durham) where we enjoyed chatting with the proprietor, Chris, and playing games to while away rainy afternoons or days when we were tired from walking. We had wonderful conversations with the owner of a used bookstore. We discussed Nikola Tesla with some fellows from Serbia and Bosnia. We attended a Science Fiction meetup group, and joined their very lively and amusing discussions on WhatsApp. I discovered the details of my grandfather’s voyage from Ireland to the U.S. We watched the sunset over Cork from the Montenotte Hotel, went to two local theatre productions, visited the town of Crosshaven. We have seen more rainbows than we have ever seen before in such a short time — sometimes two or three a day!

But there’s a lot of things we set out to do that won’t be done, at least not on this trip, as we literally flee the country so that we can isolate ourselves in the comfort of our own home. Barry’s birthday trip to Paris will now be spent at home. All my hard work learning Spanish and Portuguese will go untested as we will not be traveling to those countries at all. If things had gone according to plan, we would at this moment be boarding a train to Dublin so that I could attend a meeting of the Pernicious Anaemia Society, and would have had the chance to meet our Chairman, Martyn Hooper MBE, a tireless leader for all of us who suffer from this condition. We won’t be having a cocktail at Ireland’s only tiki bar tonight, nor will we be having bagels in the Jewish Quarter tomorrow.

We won’t be doing that bus trip to West Cork. We won’t be taking short bus rides to the greenways through Blackrock/Mahon, Ballincollig, Bishopstown. We won’t be exploring the town of Macroom, which looked intriguing when we passed it on the bus to Kerry.

Maybe next time.

Tomorrow we drive in automotive isolation to Dublin, spend the night in a hotel, fly to Philadelphia and spend the night at a hotel there. We cancelled the PHL to RDU flight, figuring eight hours on an airplane is risk enough. On Monday we will drive home.

If I’m lucky, the trout lilies will still be in bloom, and the azaleas will be getting started. I’ll miss looking out at the River Lee multiple times a day, but will walk down and say hello to the Eno, being wary of the ticks that are undoubtedly starting to wake up for their spring feeding. I’ll watch some movies on Criterion and HBO, shoot some pool, sit outside if the weather is above 50 degrees. We’ll sleep in our own bed, cook in our own kitchen, drink in our own bar, and wave to the neighbors from the front porch.

We’ll wait this out in the comforts of home.

Categories
Traveling

Travels in the year of the plague

When we were in the intense planning phase of this journey — booking flights and hotels, deciding which credit cards had the best travel benefits, purchasing travel health insurance — the two events we reasonably thought might disrupt our trip were (1) one of us getting sick or injured, or (2) a loved one falling gravely ill and requiring a hasty return to the States.

Neither a pandemic or a global financial collapse were high on the list.

When we left the U.S. at the end of January, the epidemic in Wuhan was in the news, and enough of a concern that we purchased face masks and hand sanitizer, mostly because airplanes are essentially airborne petri dishes and we thought they might be prudent for all the flights we had planned. But the idea that the epidemic in China would, in 5-6 weeks, become a major source of concern to us in Ireland was remote.

Now, we wash our hands before we leave the apartment, more vigorously and attentively than usual. We take the stairs and don’t touch the banister, or if we take the elevator, use a key to press the button. But we still need to pull on a door handle to get out of the building. We arrive at our destination, and out comes the small and rapidly depleting bottle of hand sanitizer. But then, a bartender passes us a pint after having taken cash and an empty glass from another patron. We are mindful about not touching our faces until after we’ve washed our hands yet again.

I had a brief bout of exacerbated asthma during the windier days during storms Ciara and Dennis, so I purchased a peak flow meter (the thing on the left of the photo) so that I could determine if my discomfort was an annoyance or something I actually needed to worry about. I’ve encouraged Barry to use it (with cleaning before and after, of course) to determine his baseline levels. Today, we purchased a thermometer. Just in case. It could be useful to objectively measure what’s going on should we feel poorly.

We stopped in about a dozen drug stores today. No hand sanitizer to be found. I did not look to stock up for the DIY alcohol-and-aloe-vera-gel solution, but that may be next if Boots does not get a new order in this week, as they said they would. Lloyds said it could be 2-3 weeks.

We may end up sanitizing with vodka and marmalade.

Things are not actually too bad in Ireland, at least not yet. It is one of the less affected countries in Europe. To date there are 21 COVID-19 cases, almost all of them related to people traveling to Italy for ski vacations (including a couple of school groups). But the first community-acquired infection (i.e., not traced to China, Iran, Italy or other hotspots) was here in Cork. Oddly enough, the patient was already in the hospital for something unrelated, and when he did not improve, they ran a battery of tests, including for COVID-19, which came back positive.

The situation in Italy is the worst in Europe. The concern about a bunch of people flying into Ireland from Italy was enough that they cancelled the Ireland-Italy 6 Nations rugby match, which a European friend tells me is on par with cancelling the Super Bowl (today, France v. Ireland was also cancelled).

And today, the St. Patrick’s Day parades in Dublin and Cork — the two largest cities in Ireland — were cancelled. St. Patrick’s Day is not a big deal for either of us (even though I spent 8 years in a school named for the old snake killer) — but we were truly looking forward to being here for such an essentially Irish celebration.

And yet, I was a bit relieved when it was cancelled.

France is our biggest worry. After Italy, it is the hardest hit country in Europe, and Paris is one of the cities most affected. We have a package trip to Paris booked for the weekend of Barry’s birthday, the weekend after next. France is already encouraging people to take their temperature twice a day, and avoid restaurants. It’s pretty much assumed they will reach Stage 3 epidemic precautions this week, which would include cancelling most transit.

At this point, we are hoping that the trip is cancelled on us, so that we can actually get a refund. If not? We are two 60+ individuals, both with asthma, one with hypertension, the other with a lung scarred by radiation for cancer treatment. It would be ill-advised for us to risk going to a city where people like us who fall ill may not recover.

But it’s not only the concern for our health. What if we were to go, and other countries ban flights from France as they’ve banned flights from China? What if we could return here to Ireland, but would need to stay in isolation for 14 days after — and our AirBnB lease runs out before then? Our concerns are not just medical, and financial, but logistical.

After we check out of our apartment in Cork on the morning of April 1, we have a couple of days on the road in Ireland, then a trip (planned, at least) to Portugal and Spain. Portugal, like Ireland, is one of the least-affected countries in Europe. However, the cases that they have are all in places we’re going. And we have a few days in Seville, in the Andalusia province of Spain, which is also a hotspot for the virus. It’s easy enough to cancel the Seville part of the trip and stay in Portugal.

TAP, the Portugal airline, cancelled a number of flights, but not ours. The cancelled flights were to Italy, France, and Spain.

So, we could pull our punches and cancel Portugal…there’s time to cancel the hotels but we would likely eat the cost of the airfare, or a large portion of it. Then we would need to change our flights to the U.S., which would also cost us. It’s not that we are not willing to eat the cost if it saves our lives or prevents a logistical nightmare. It’s that we don’t want to eat that cost if waiting a week means it will be cancelled for us and we’ll get a full refund.

But, seeing what the official response has been by the U.S. government, it has also occurred to us that NOT returning to the U.S. may be a better plan! On the other hand, we could “self-isolate” in our North Carolina house with the gourmet kitchen, bar, pool table, two TVs with Criterion subscriptions, an art studio, science fiction library, and pile of games… damn, as long as someone will deliver food to us, we’d pretty much be sitting pretty.

But damn, I’ll miss Cork.

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Blarney

Blarney Gardens…oh, and there’s a castle there, too

When we toured Ireland in 2017, our favorite city was Cork. One of the reasons we liked it so much is that it’s not really much of a tourist town. It’s scenic and there’s lots to do, and there are a few shops where you can buy souvenirs, but doesn’t have that Tourist Trap feel of summer in downtown Galway or parts of Dublin.

Outside of town, though, there’s Blarney Castle, site of the famed Blarney Stone, one of the biggest tourist destinations in Ireland. Fortunately for us, (1) it’s a short ride on public transit, so less than €2 each way, and (2) it’s way off-season, so it wasn’t crowded at all.

This sign was a fair distance from the castle, indicating how long the lines can be in the summer. We did not wait on any lines.

The real surprise of the trip was how large and lovely the gardens are. We didn’t even walk all the paths, as there are some that extend outward through the fields and forests and along the river, and around a lake that we didn’t even see. Even so, we spent more time walking through the gardens than we did in the castle itself.

Daffodils and crocuses at the base of the castle.
We followed this trail along the river to the Fern Garden, but we could have continued on a nearly 2-hour hike through the forest and around a lake.
The waterfall in the Fern Garden.
The path through the fern garden.
An unexpected find, and an unidentified flower.
A tiki troll under a bridge

There are also a number of impressive trees throughout the arboreteums. I thought they some looked familiar, and indeed, they were not native, but were cedars from Northern California.

In addition to the castle, there is a much newer (1874) building on the property, a mansion that was currently closed for renovations. That is one downside to touring in the off-season…sometimes things are simply closed.

There are a cluster of gardens on the other side of the castle with whimsical names — Wishing Steps, Witches Kitchen, Druids Circle. They all sort of blend together though, in fact, we got a bit lost trying to figure out what was where. Is that the Sacrificial Altar? Or just a tree stump? Is that big tree the Irish Tree of the Year, or some other big tree?

It was this big tree.

There was also a “Pinetum”, essentially an arboretum focusing on pine trees, that struck me more like a rock garden. Also, another waterfall, and a pond.

Then there was the Fairy Glade. I wish our grandkids had been with us, because I’m sure they would have had better luck spotting the fairies than we did!

So after several hours touring the gardens, we finally went up to the castle.

Unlike other castles we’ve seen, which have essentially been military fortresses, people actually lived here. But it was also a fortress. So, instead of having a coat rack in the front hall so you could hang up guests’ coats, there was a “murder hole” so you could pouring boiling oil on their heads.
Some parts are in better repair than others. There was also a tower similar to the one on the right that was surrounded by scaffolding as repairs were being made.

There were a few other people around, but really, we had the place almost to ourselves. The rooms are cold and mostly dark, and except for the main hall, small, with claustrophobia-inducing doorways and stairwells. You could really get a sense of how bleak life must have felt even for those who could afford the fancy real estate of the time. I don’t think you would really be able to get a good sense of the space crammed in hundreds of people, cranky from being on line for over an hour, just wanting to kiss the damn stone and get back to the bus to the cruise ship.

No, the ceiling isn’t that high…the floor is missing. There would have been another floor, so the fireplace would be in a normal position, not halfway up the wall. It did allow for a nice shot looking down at the entryway, though.
It’s a long walk up a very winding staircase to get to the top. In some places the ceiling is quite low. Once at the top, though, you’re rewarded by fresh air and a lovely view.
The castle grounds, and the village of Blarney.

We had the ramparts to ourselves except for two very bored looking workers who are there specifically to help lower people down to kiss the Blarney Stone. I was glad to see they had a bottle of disinfectant spray nearby. There are some odd traditions in this world, but this one strikes me as one of the dumbest. Even if there weren’t a pandemic going on, no way am I going to kiss some stupid rock.

After this we poked around in some shops, but most of the restaurants were closed, so we caught the bus back into town.

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Buses Cork City Crosshaven Ireland The Lough

Exploring the south side of Cork

Barry has been better than I about keeping up with our travels. I have some catching up to do! Be sure to check out his posts as well. He takes better photos with a better camera!

Here are a few of our travels on the south side of Cork, and beyond.

One of our first walks south of city centre we discovered the Elizabeth Fort, which Barry describes fully in his post. I used the opportunity to take a few shots of the surrounding neighborhood.

Looking west and north from Elizabeth Fort; River Lee

That large construction project with the crane is at the opposite end of Main Street from our apartment. It’s walled off from the street, so you can’t see much of what’s going on inside. On the wall, they list the architect, builders, etc., and I was interested to see that they also have an archaeologist on the project.

The site was in the news today, when a “treasure trove” of documents from the 1790‘s were found in an old safe. Apparently at the heart of the construction is an old Beamish brewery, that from the photos appears similar to the Tudor style building below. The documents are related to that and to properties all around the city.

Looking down from Elizabeth Fort at the immediate neighborhood; St. Fin Barre’s cathedral grounds is the greenery to the left.

We also walked around St. Fin Barre’s cathedral a bit. There was a service going on so we did not go inside. The architecture was quite stunning — especially the gargoyles.

St. Fin Barre’s Cathedral

My favorite part of this trip, though, was discovering the labyrinth, which was lovely to walk. I may return.

So peaceful!

We found ourselves back in this part of town recently, and decided to venture a little further out to The Lough, a small urban lake.

A nice place to sit and enjoy the view, except that it rained earlier and the bench was wet. I’m guessing that’s a frequent issue.
There were two walkways, one right next to the water, the other a little further out. Lots of waterfowl, although they seem to be mostly hiding in this picture.

We took another impromptu walk recently to Blackrock Pier. We’d run an errand on that side of town, decided to have brunch there, and then just kept walking. We’d been out that way before, to Blackrock Castle, but this time, we walked along the river.

Before we reached the river, we walked through one of the more industrial neighborhoods than we’d seen to date. We were surprised that the sidewalk was so much wider and better paved than in most of the city, where a lot of the sidewalks are quite old. There were tons of joggers for a neighborhood that didn’t seem to generate a lot of pedestrian traffic. But that road connected to the greenway along the river, than in turn intersects with a greenway that goes a considerable way south of the city (which we hope to visit this month!) So the sidewalk was truly as much a greenway as a sidewalk.

Barry, not jogging on the greenway.
One view across to the north side of the river. I love this row of houses.
The greenway also ran alongside a park surrounding this small lake. Daffodils have been in bloom everywhere we’ve been, all month long.
Some port activity on the river. If you look to the right of the ship, you can see Blackrock Castle. We had a beer in an inn at the pier, and watched them unload the shipping containers, which was oddly mesmerizing.
I’m not sure why they call this little village Blackrock Pier, since there is no docks or marina and very few boats. There was this little enclosed oval of water, surrounded by a walkway and benches, but judging by how it looks at low tide, I can’t imagine many boats docking here!

I wrote earlier about our walk out to the village/neighborhood of Douglas. It was one of our longer walks, but we managed it without hopping a bus either way. This week we decided to go even further south, though, to the harbor village of Crosshaven. Be sure to look at Barry’s photos from this trip, the one of the sailboats and the wind turbine is spectacular!

This was our first trip that was long enough that we had to take the bus both there and back. The bus ride was about 40-45 minutes long. We quickly discovered that the best seats for curious tourists are the front seats on the top of the double decker.

Some of the countryside south of Cork, between Douglas and Carragaline.
Carragaline had a lovely old town with a river running through it, but it was also our first look at U.S.-style suburban sprawl.
The village of Crosshaven.
The Owenabue River empties into Cork Harbour at Crosshaven. You really need to look at Barry’s post to see his photo of this scene!

This was the first place we saw actual pleasure boats. I’ve been surprised that in the Lee River and Cork Harbour in other places, all the boats have been industrial, with nary a marina to be seen. This was the first place we saw sailboats, and there were lots of them! There appeared to be three different sailing classes going on, as pods of white, red/blue/white, and translucent/red boats went around in circles, or proceeded downwind into the harbor.

There wasn’t a greenway here, but there was a “scenic walk”, a one-lane residential road that went up the hill along the harbor to Camden Fort Meagher.

I am sure this edifice at Camden Fort Meagher has profound historical significance, but I really didn’t pay attention. It was much more pleasurable to watch the sailboats in the harbor.

There were other roads and paths that went further, or that cut across the peninsula to the ocean, but this wasn’t a day we were up for a big walk, so we went back into the village for lunch at a lovely pub.

I am becoming spoiled by having Guinness, Murphy’s, and Beamish on tap absolutely everywhere we go. We’ve both discovered that Murphy’s is our favorite.
I love my traveling companion!

We’ll be heading south again today on the 10:05 bus to Kinsale.

Categories
Cork City Ireland

A walk in the park

Yesterday we took a short bus ride to Glen River Park, at the north end of the city. We walked through the park and back into town.

The trails through the park — some paved, some not — follow a small stream. We were never too far from civilization; in most places you could see nearby houses, and sometimes hear a nearby highway. But it was still a peaceful stroll by a babbling brook.

As usual, Barry took a lot of photos, and I’m sure he will be sharing them!

I’ve gotten a bit spoiled by the Eno River State Park, especially by the unofficial trails that I usually follow, or the bushwhacking I do when it’s not tick and poison ivy season. I’d forgotten how much litter gathers in urban parks. It was a big disheartening.

This bit of artwork was in the park, with no plaque or explanation. It sort of evokes a yin/yang symbol, and included all these little tiles that looks like they were likely made by kids.

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Blackrock Buses Cork City Ireland

The planetarium inside an inflatable igloo inside a castle

Yesterday we walked four miles east and a bit south of the city to the Blackrock Castle Observatory. There was a clear blue sky when we left, within 10 blocks there was a few minutes of sleet, then it was lovely enough to remove our coats, and by the time we arrived at the castle there were gale force gusts of wind. The walk took us through some of the more posh residential neighborhoods than we’ve seen thus far, as well as a couple of small villages/neighborhoods, and a stretch along the Lee River.

Blackrock pier

The base of the castle — the squarish part below the towers — was built in the late 16th century to intimidate pirates who were sailing upriver and wreaking havoc. Later, when England was at war with Spain and the fighting spilled over into Ireland, the towers were built, although the war ended without the fort ever being used in battle. It went through a number of uses in the ensuing centuries, primarily as a sort of country club for the wealthier citizens. There were a couple of fires that destroyed any of the furnishings and tapestries that we normally associate with castle life. By the end of the 20th century it was a restaurant and event center. In 2007, the Cork Institute of Technology had the winning proposal of what to do with the property, and along with the City of Cork turned it into the science center it is now.

View from below the castle. The circular display in the foreground is for spotting landmarks on the view of the river.
It gets bit windy up there.

This is not just a science museum for kids, but also a working observatory. While we were getting the tour, a young scientist worked his way through the crowd and into the lab that we were viewing through glass doors. They have a telescope, but the Irish climate does not allow for a lot of clear skies for viewing. So the scientists there focus on software development that they share with other observatories.

It isn’t as big as other kid-oriented science museums that I’ve seen, but the kids who were there were clearly enjoying themselves. In addition to the few exhibits, interactive and otherwise, there is the planetarium.

I’ve been to planetariums (planetaria?) in New York and San Francisco, and even the one in Chapel Hill is a sizable auditorium with the sort of show that evokes Ooohs and Ahhhs.

The planetarium at Blackrock Castle was nothing like those.

Inside a room in the castle stood a dome made out of fabric: the inflatable igloo. You enter through a rather, um, evocative slit between two inflated tubes, into a small chamber no bigger than a person, then through another slit. The room inside is maybe 15′-20′ in diameter; there were roughly 10 adults and 8 kids at our show. In the center is the planetarium apparatus; the audience sits on the floor in a single row around the edge of the circle. The presenter sits on the floor, too.

The show itself was very basic: what’s in the sky tonight, when is the best time of day or year to view various planets, a bit about some constellations. The presenter runs the show from a tablet, and she seemed to be fairly new to it as there were a few Ooopsies as she sped through months instead of hours, or couldn’t get the button to work to highlight Ursa Major.

But it was utterly charming. Unlike auditorium shows where everyone is suitably hushed, this was more of a conversation, with kids shouting out comments or questions, smaller ones squirming in their parents’ laps. It may not be Hayden planetarium, but it was a hit with the kids, and families were lined up for the next show.

We took the bus back into town, our first foray by (double decker!) bus. The castle is also the starting point for a greenway that extends several miles south along the river, so we will likely take the bus out there again at some point and enjoy the walk.

View of the greenway along the Lee River from the castle roof. We were on the roof of the fort portion of the castle. They were not taking visitors to the tower roof because there had been gale force gusts that day!
Categories
Ireland

Train Trip to Cobh

We’ve explored the city enough on foot that we decided to take a short train ride to Cobh (pronounced “cove”), a commuter town where the River Lee turns into a bona fide harbor.

The Cork Kent train station.
Awaiting the train in Cork.

The train ride itself was pleasant, and had some scenic moments. It follows the river, and then the harbor, so there were water views most of the way. That said, much of the water was low tide muck, and it is very much a working harbor, so while there were some charming streets and houses along the shore, there were also a lot of piles of shipping containers, parking lots, lumber yards, etc.

Cobh felt more touristy than Cork, mostly because we passed two or three tour groups. Cobh was the place where most Irish emigrants shipped off to other countries, so there is a small museum about the various migrations. It was also the last port of call for the Titanic, and the closest port of call when the Lusitania was sunk, so there are sites commemorating both of those disasters. There is also a beautiful cathedral, although beautiful churches and cathedrals seem fairly common here: we can see several from our apartment window.

Alas, my phone, and therefore my camera, ran out of juice halfway through the day, so you’ll have to look at Barry’s next post to see the second half of the day.

After lunch, headed back towards the train station, which is right next to the Cobh Heritage Center, the museum dedicated to the migrations. I’m somewhat indifferent to history museums in general, but since this one has more of a personal connection, I was curious to see it. The center also contains the Genealogy Center, and in speaking to the docent there, I was able to discover details about my grandfather’s emigration (he boarded the Saxonia in April 1906, bound for a friend’s home in Boston, but then moved to Brooklyn).

Cobh harbor
Along the quay
I thought these houses were adorable!
A Chinese restaurant, believe it or not.
John F. Kennedy park in the foreground, St. Colman’s Cathedral on the hill
Downtown Cobh
A park in memory of the Titanic, whose last port of call was Cobh.
Categories
Cork City Ireland

Winter weather in Ireland

Looking out our window at Storm Ciara.

It has not been a surprise to us that the weather in February in Ireland has been chilly and wet. That said, it has actually been quite variable. The old saying that I’ve heard about many places in the U.S., “If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes” holds true here.

Most days we’ve walked extensively, and even if caught in a bit of rain, the rain has been not much more than a drizzle, enough to splatter the eyeglasses but otherwise not much of a bother. But then there will be a brilliant blue sky, until the next cloud rolls through. The temperature is fairly predictable, ranging mostly from low 40s to high 40s. Without looking at the day’s forecast, a guess of 45 degrees with a 50% chance of rain has a good chance of being accurate. And 45 degrees is actually not a bad temp for some vigorous walking.

The last few days have been a bit more severe. Storm Ciara (rhymes with tiara, with a hard “c”) swept through over the weekend, with wind-lashed rains loud enough to wake us up in the middle of the night. There were reports of power outages throughout Ireland and the UK, as well as some snow at higher elevations. The storm left a cold patch in its wake, so in the past 24 hours we’ve seen a spattering of hail and sleet.

But poor weather just means different opportunities. Yesterday, as Barry noted in his post, we ducked into a café for a cup of tea as weather threatened, and when it later started to rain in earnest, ducked into the Crawford Gallery of Art, a free museum which was on my list to see anyway. A perfect rainy day activity!

Today was colder than usual…the high of the day barely scraped 40. So we took the opportunity to check out the Tabletop Café, around the corner, where we had some noshes and played a game called Unearth most of the afternoon. Had a nice time chatting with Chris, the owner, and Tom, a regular patron. I could see us returning on another cold or rainy day, especially so that I can have a rematch with Barry, who won both games.

Categories
Cork City Ireland

Out and about on my own

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.

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