I'm sorry for the lack of posts, especially in the middle of a trip. It has been a busy summer! Also, please overlook formatting as I'm having issues with my account.
Thanks, & Safe Travels!
Karen
Karen
My Recommendations:
Must Do's ...
- Killarney - town, The Fairview Guesthouse, Gaby's Seafood Restaurant, Sheehan's Pub
- Killarney National Park
- Buy Irish lace
What You Can Skip ...
- Not a thing!
continuing from Waterford …
I completed my morning jaunt around Waterford with a delicious cappuccino while sitting outside at the corner cafe. Then, back on the road again ...
County Cork, Ireland ...
Driving the coastal road from Waterford to County Cork, and just before arriving at the charming town of Dungarvan, I found myself on a road so narrow that only one car could pass through … again. It was lovely. However, for this first-time left-side driver, it was a bit nerve racking as I never knew if I would come across an on-coming car when I came out of the many twists and turns. Along each side of the road were thick hedges that were so perfectly manicured they transformed the dense greenery into flat walls. The walls must have been 7 - 8' high and they caused me to feel as though I was driving through a maze. As my side mirrors slid their way down the hedges on both sides of the car, I knew I would receive an unhappy gaze when I returned it. And just as I rounded out of a curve, I saw a lovely golf resort, Gold Coast Golf Club. Against the blue sky, the lime green of the grounds brought with it an exhale and a smile from me.
I drove on to Dungarvan, a very charming town that is separated from the ocean by a shallow bay. Quite an interesting site to see, a navigation channel marked by red/green buoys leads into Dungarvan from the ocean. For most vessels, except the very small, the channel is not navigable at low tide. And even at high tide yachts and larger vessels must remain in the buoyed channel. I stopped for ice cream and sat on the edge of the bay watching the boats master their way through the course, and absorbed the Irish everyday life as it buzzed around me.
Not long after, as I drove into the city of Cork, Ireland, I seriously think I had already heard Train's 'Hey Soul Sister' about twenty times. It was really starting to get on my nerves. Thank God for my iPod.
I've heard only extremes about the city of Cork ... ‘just another city’ and ‘utterly wonderful.’ Nothing in between. So curiosity had the best of me. Being the second largest & the third most populous city in Ireland, Cork is a major Irish seaport. Its harbour is one of the world's largest natural harbours. Interestingly, Cork is built on the River Lee which separates into two channels on one end of the city. The city centre, my first destination whenever I approach a new city, is located on the island created by those channels. A very interesting sight. The main road had extremely wide sidewalks ... almost a plaza of sorts ... with interesting posts for electrical wires and street lights. They were more like spikes than posts, actually. Off of this 'plaza' were small alleyways lined with quaint bars and cafes. It reminded me of Italy. Despite that, the city itself didn't capture me. What did capture me, though, is the distinct impression I had that were I to live in Cork I would have an incredible community of friends. In that regard, it reminded me of my hometown, Cincinnati. And as such, I deemed it a city of friendly people.
County Kerry, Ireland ...
The drive from Cork to the town of Killarney in County Kerry was the first of my two favorite drives of the trip (the other being in Connemara). Part of me doesn’t want to admit this is the most beautiful region in Ireland simply because it is the top tourist destination given the scenery. I don’t believe I’ve ever agreed with the tourist pov before, but, incredible beauty is incredible beauty!
If you take the main road between the towns you will drive through the outer parts of Killarney National Forest (also known as Killarney National Park). The density of the forest has caused the tree branches to hang over the road forming a lush tunnel as a welcome entry into the region. I was in complete awe as I drove and desperate to capture my feeling on film so I could relive these moments over and over again. There wasn’t space to pull off to the side of the road, so I took to snapping photos through the windshield as I drove. Only one photo is worth sharing and it's the photo I took as I came out of the tunnel ~ so it misses the wonder. But, it does bring the previous visuals to my mind.
If you take the main road between the towns you will drive through the outer parts of Killarney National Forest (also known as Killarney National Park). The density of the forest has caused the tree branches to hang over the road forming a lush tunnel as a welcome entry into the region. I was in complete awe as I drove and desperate to capture my feeling on film so I could relive these moments over and over again. There wasn’t space to pull off to the side of the road, so I took to snapping photos through the windshield as I drove. Only one photo is worth sharing and it's the photo I took as I came out of the tunnel ~ so it misses the wonder. But, it does bring the previous visuals to my mind.
Coming out of the tunnel I was immediately in the Derrynasaggart Mountain region. These mountains are breath-taking and my camera simply couldn’t do them justice! (Of course, it had nothing to do with my photographic skills.) Further into the forest heading onto the Iveragh Penisula, County Kerry has the highest mountain in all of Ireland, Carrauntoohill.
I pulled into the quaint town of Killarney and drove through the city centre. The streets were lined with shops, pubs, and B&B’s each painted a different color. I found the public parking, left my car and walked back to the centre to check out a few shops and get a recommendation on a good B&B.
There was a large lace shop with beautiful Irish lace serving every functionality you can imagine. As I had planned to buy Irish lace for my mother and nieces, this was the perfect stop. I bought my mother a runner, and also inquired of a B&B. The shopkeeper recommended The Fairview Guesthouse. While telling me how to drive there, she became very flustered and nervous that I would get lost so she drew a map for me. It looked easy as I had just driven the area where she was directing me. Still, she was so concerned that I would get lost that she insisted on looking up the phone number for me.
When I pulled up to The Fairview Guesthouse, on, literally, the street behind the lace shop & just a few buildings down, I knew this was a gem because it was absolutely lovely. James O'Neill, the owner, offered me an upgrade for only an additional 10 euros so my room had a skylight, plasma screen tv, and...a jacuzzi. I made a cup of tea, my afternoon ritual, and enjoyed it in the jacuzzi. After a long, relaxing soak, I dressed for dinner and asked James for a few recommendations on restaurants and where I could go to hear Irish music. As I walked out of the inn, a very tall, handsome, and unusually polished backpacker was entering. We greeted each other and continued on our way.
I was so relaxed that I strolled the streets slowly, enjoying the sunlight that shines during the evenings in Ireland and tried to determine what I wanted for dinner. Amongst couples, I passed an attractive guy also strolling alone and my senses quickly told me that he was the local 'hottie' out to pick up a tourist. Needless to say, I gave him none of my attention. As I neared the end of the strip, I decided on the award-winning Gaby's Seafood Restaurant.
Taking a seat at the small, rustic bar, I immediately fell into conversation with the bartender. I ordered a glass of wine from their fabulous wine list when I quickly realized that I was in perfect position to be hounded by large groups of American men who were clearly golf buddies making their way across the Irish circuit of courses. I'd managed to avoid these packs since my arrival in Ireland. Not that I'm not a fan of golfers, mind you, nor do I want to stereotype ... however ... every one of these groups that I'd come across appeared to be 'adult men gone wild' as they were always drunk, or well on their way, and looking for women to drink with.
Not long after, two gentlemen came in and sat next to me. They were Americans sporting their golf polo shirts. So, at first, I was a bit put off they sat next to me. But they were delightful. (Sadly, my file on my blackberry where I documented names of those I met, small discoveries and my thoughts when I came across them, vanished when I sync'ed my blackberry upon my return to New York.) The older gentleman, let's call him Rick, lives in Sarasota, Florida and evidently is a fabulous golfer. The younger, we'll name him George because I do believe that was his name, splits his time between being a golf pro in Sarasota and an Opera singer in Manhattan. Both men were quite handsome and vying for my attention. If I sparked to something George said and we conversed on the subject, Rick would clearly get miffed and change the subject causing George and I to smile and exchange knowing looks. If Rick and I sparked on a conversation, George, however, would simply listen and smile. Oh how sensitive is the male ego! :) These two seemed to be really good men and I was disappointed when, an hour later, their dining table was ready for them to be seated. Once again, life brought two amazing people to me during my journey and I was thankful.
As I finished my dinner there at the bar, I decided it was time to hear some traditional Irish music. It was 10:30 p.m. and the sun was shining as bright as if it was only 4 p.m. As I strolled back towards Sheehan's Pub, I saw a group of men gathered in front of the door and I could hear the very non-Irish music. It was dark when I entered and full of men. My first thought was, "Oh, please God, don't let these guys be drunk as I really don't want to spend the evening in my hotel room!" The bar was full, although not yet packed, and as I made my way down the long, narrow bar I finally found an open spot where I could easily get a drink and plant myself. The band had finished playing just as I'd entered but another band would begin their sets soon. "Excuse me," I said to the back of the extremely tall gentleman standing next to my spot as I shimmied my way into it and ordered a Guinness. He turned around and smiled. It was my handsome backpacker. Sadly, it was so loud that I couldn't hear his name and I didn't want to ask him to repeat it a fourth time. For ease of sharing, we'll call him Bern as he is from Bern, Switzerland.
Bern & I hung out together most of the night and he became my protector, of sorts, as I ended up being one of only ten women in the bar that night. All of the packs of golfing buddies I'd seen earlier, as well as the local 'hottie', ended up in this pub and were looming at this blonde woman traveling on her own. So I was thankful Bern was there to ward them off. Not that I couldn't have handled them, it was just nice not to be bothered. We spent the evening chatting & people-watching as we patiently waited for the next band to take the stage.
Not long after the band began to play, two men entered the bar through the door which led to the restrooms and what I assumed was a back entrance. (Much later I learned there was a rocking nightclub back there. I could have been on top of a box and dancing to the latest techno music at The Grand!) The guy who was near my age was chatting with a gal from a hen party (aka bachelorette party). As they passed behind me, I felt the guy's hand on the mid of my back and his deep, sexy, Irish voice whispered something in my ear like "I hope you're having a good time" or something like that. I rolled my eyes and thought, "what a player", as I turned my attention back to Bern and the band. Not too long after, Mr. Player and his friend came over and we all began chatting. As it turns out, Leon (aka Mr. Player) and Ted were really nice men. Ted, who tried to pass himself off as Leon's father, is a neighbor of Leon's. They teased me a bit about Bern, as he stayed close and kept the drunk men away, which I thought was sweet, but judging by his looks he was clearly too young for me. Needless to say, I teased Leon about hitting on me at the same time he was hitting on the other gal. He vehemently denied hitting on the other gal and said he was just chatting. Right.
Both men are farmers and were on their way to the Dingle Peninsula to look at cattle. I was actually on my way to explore the Dingle Peninsula the next day myself. And, small world, we were all staying at the same inn. My father's family is from the country and I have a few uncles and cousins who are cattle farmers. But these two gentlemen were unique. Ted encouraged me to visit an Irish pub in New York City that isn't too far from where I live: Pig & Whistle. (I still have yet to make my way there.)
After a couple of hours of hanging out, dancing, and chatting with everyone around us, Leon and I sat in the corner and talked for another couple of hours. Until this evening, I had never met a cattle farmer who carries an iPhone, enjoys international travel, knows who Andrea Bocelli is, can actually sing Andrea Bocelli's songs (quite perfectly, I might add), and ... salsa dances. A man after my own heart!
The band, Bog the Donkey, was actually quite good. Although I have yet to figure out what 'Bog the Donkey' means, they were an absolute blast! Now, had I not been enchanted by the conversations I was having, you would not have been able to pry me off of the dance floor. Here's a video of them singing The Galway Girl. A favorite of mine given Galway Ireland is one of the areas in Ireland from whence the Burke family hails.
The next morning, I met Leon and Ted in the dining room for breakfast before we all went our own merry ways. They to look at cattle, and I to explore the region. It wasn't until they had been gone for about 5 minute when I realized I didn't have their contact information. I raced outside but, alas, they were nowhere in sight.
I pulled my car up to the entrance of the Guesthouse and as I was placing my suitcase in the trunk, who came walking up from the inn next door but Bern! He was on his way into the Guesthouse for breakfast as it is the sister inn of where he stayed. I noticed the salt and pepper coloring of his sideburns and realized that he was much older than I had thought. He had appeared to be in his mid-twenties and now, in the light, I realized he was definitely in his thirties. We chatted for a few minutes and he caught me by surprise when he planted a firm kiss on my lips.
He went inside and I climbed into my car ... quite stunned.
Smiling, of course.
Next up: Counties Kerry (cont'd) and Limerick ...
There was a large lace shop with beautiful Irish lace serving every functionality you can imagine. As I had planned to buy Irish lace for my mother and nieces, this was the perfect stop. I bought my mother a runner, and also inquired of a B&B. The shopkeeper recommended The Fairview Guesthouse. While telling me how to drive there, she became very flustered and nervous that I would get lost so she drew a map for me. It looked easy as I had just driven the area where she was directing me. Still, she was so concerned that I would get lost that she insisted on looking up the phone number for me.
When I pulled up to The Fairview Guesthouse, on, literally, the street behind the lace shop & just a few buildings down, I knew this was a gem because it was absolutely lovely. James O'Neill, the owner, offered me an upgrade for only an additional 10 euros so my room had a skylight, plasma screen tv, and...a jacuzzi. I made a cup of tea, my afternoon ritual, and enjoyed it in the jacuzzi. After a long, relaxing soak, I dressed for dinner and asked James for a few recommendations on restaurants and where I could go to hear Irish music. As I walked out of the inn, a very tall, handsome, and unusually polished backpacker was entering. We greeted each other and continued on our way.
I was so relaxed that I strolled the streets slowly, enjoying the sunlight that shines during the evenings in Ireland and tried to determine what I wanted for dinner. Amongst couples, I passed an attractive guy also strolling alone and my senses quickly told me that he was the local 'hottie' out to pick up a tourist. Needless to say, I gave him none of my attention. As I neared the end of the strip, I decided on the award-winning Gaby's Seafood Restaurant.
Taking a seat at the small, rustic bar, I immediately fell into conversation with the bartender. I ordered a glass of wine from their fabulous wine list when I quickly realized that I was in perfect position to be hounded by large groups of American men who were clearly golf buddies making their way across the Irish circuit of courses. I'd managed to avoid these packs since my arrival in Ireland. Not that I'm not a fan of golfers, mind you, nor do I want to stereotype ... however ... every one of these groups that I'd come across appeared to be 'adult men gone wild' as they were always drunk, or well on their way, and looking for women to drink with.
Not long after, two gentlemen came in and sat next to me. They were Americans sporting their golf polo shirts. So, at first, I was a bit put off they sat next to me. But they were delightful. (Sadly, my file on my blackberry where I documented names of those I met, small discoveries and my thoughts when I came across them, vanished when I sync'ed my blackberry upon my return to New York.) The older gentleman, let's call him Rick, lives in Sarasota, Florida and evidently is a fabulous golfer. The younger, we'll name him George because I do believe that was his name, splits his time between being a golf pro in Sarasota and an Opera singer in Manhattan. Both men were quite handsome and vying for my attention. If I sparked to something George said and we conversed on the subject, Rick would clearly get miffed and change the subject causing George and I to smile and exchange knowing looks. If Rick and I sparked on a conversation, George, however, would simply listen and smile. Oh how sensitive is the male ego! :) These two seemed to be really good men and I was disappointed when, an hour later, their dining table was ready for them to be seated. Once again, life brought two amazing people to me during my journey and I was thankful.
As I finished my dinner there at the bar, I decided it was time to hear some traditional Irish music. It was 10:30 p.m. and the sun was shining as bright as if it was only 4 p.m. As I strolled back towards Sheehan's Pub, I saw a group of men gathered in front of the door and I could hear the very non-Irish music. It was dark when I entered and full of men. My first thought was, "Oh, please God, don't let these guys be drunk as I really don't want to spend the evening in my hotel room!" The bar was full, although not yet packed, and as I made my way down the long, narrow bar I finally found an open spot where I could easily get a drink and plant myself. The band had finished playing just as I'd entered but another band would begin their sets soon. "Excuse me," I said to the back of the extremely tall gentleman standing next to my spot as I shimmied my way into it and ordered a Guinness. He turned around and smiled. It was my handsome backpacker. Sadly, it was so loud that I couldn't hear his name and I didn't want to ask him to repeat it a fourth time. For ease of sharing, we'll call him Bern as he is from Bern, Switzerland.
Bern & I hung out together most of the night and he became my protector, of sorts, as I ended up being one of only ten women in the bar that night. All of the packs of golfing buddies I'd seen earlier, as well as the local 'hottie', ended up in this pub and were looming at this blonde woman traveling on her own. So I was thankful Bern was there to ward them off. Not that I couldn't have handled them, it was just nice not to be bothered. We spent the evening chatting & people-watching as we patiently waited for the next band to take the stage.
Not long after the band began to play, two men entered the bar through the door which led to the restrooms and what I assumed was a back entrance. (Much later I learned there was a rocking nightclub back there. I could have been on top of a box and dancing to the latest techno music at The Grand!) The guy who was near my age was chatting with a gal from a hen party (aka bachelorette party). As they passed behind me, I felt the guy's hand on the mid of my back and his deep, sexy, Irish voice whispered something in my ear like "I hope you're having a good time" or something like that. I rolled my eyes and thought, "what a player", as I turned my attention back to Bern and the band. Not too long after, Mr. Player and his friend came over and we all began chatting. As it turns out, Leon (aka Mr. Player) and Ted were really nice men. Ted, who tried to pass himself off as Leon's father, is a neighbor of Leon's. They teased me a bit about Bern, as he stayed close and kept the drunk men away, which I thought was sweet, but judging by his looks he was clearly too young for me. Needless to say, I teased Leon about hitting on me at the same time he was hitting on the other gal. He vehemently denied hitting on the other gal and said he was just chatting. Right.
Both men are farmers and were on their way to the Dingle Peninsula to look at cattle. I was actually on my way to explore the Dingle Peninsula the next day myself. And, small world, we were all staying at the same inn. My father's family is from the country and I have a few uncles and cousins who are cattle farmers. But these two gentlemen were unique. Ted encouraged me to visit an Irish pub in New York City that isn't too far from where I live: Pig & Whistle. (I still have yet to make my way there.)
After a couple of hours of hanging out, dancing, and chatting with everyone around us, Leon and I sat in the corner and talked for another couple of hours. Until this evening, I had never met a cattle farmer who carries an iPhone, enjoys international travel, knows who Andrea Bocelli is, can actually sing Andrea Bocelli's songs (quite perfectly, I might add), and ... salsa dances. A man after my own heart!
The band, Bog the Donkey, was actually quite good. Although I have yet to figure out what 'Bog the Donkey' means, they were an absolute blast! Now, had I not been enchanted by the conversations I was having, you would not have been able to pry me off of the dance floor. Here's a video of them singing The Galway Girl. A favorite of mine given Galway Ireland is one of the areas in Ireland from whence the Burke family hails.
The next morning, I met Leon and Ted in the dining room for breakfast before we all went our own merry ways. They to look at cattle, and I to explore the region. It wasn't until they had been gone for about 5 minute when I realized I didn't have their contact information. I raced outside but, alas, they were nowhere in sight.
I pulled my car up to the entrance of the Guesthouse and as I was placing my suitcase in the trunk, who came walking up from the inn next door but Bern! He was on his way into the Guesthouse for breakfast as it is the sister inn of where he stayed. I noticed the salt and pepper coloring of his sideburns and realized that he was much older than I had thought. He had appeared to be in his mid-twenties and now, in the light, I realized he was definitely in his thirties. We chatted for a few minutes and he caught me by surprise when he planted a firm kiss on my lips.
He went inside and I climbed into my car ... quite stunned.
Smiling, of course.
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