The End is Near; Kilkenny and the End of this Adventure

After viewing the Rock of Cashel and heading towards Kilkenny, we stopped at the Swiss Cottage for a change in pace from the castles we’d been primarily seeing. The Swiss Cottage is a “cottage orne” that was built in the early 1800s by Richard Butler, based on a design by the famous architect John Nash. During this time period it was fashionable for the privileged to pretend to live like their servants. They would build these “simple” four-room cottages, adhering to a very particular set of guidelines, and go there during the day and poorly emulate the life of a lay person. The cottage had to be one with nature and therefore most of it is made from wood and crafted to appear like tree limbs, or the angles and curves are made to portray the inconsistencies within nature and so forth. The end result is quite beautiful and was much more elegant and lavish than an actual peasant’s home would have been during that time. The Butlers actually had the homes of 22 of their servant families destroyed, and the families moved elsewhere when their hovel-like cottages obstructed the Butler’s view. So much for being one with nature and bringing yourself to the level of your subjects.

While walking from the car to the Swiss Cottage and enjoying a tasty gummy snake, I started chewing on something hard and definitely not gummy. Turns out that the evil gummy snake (or decay) caused one of my molar fillings to crumble and leave a nice hole in my tooth. This caused Em to laugh and me to slightly freak out. After visiting the Swiss Cottage (and lamenting on my misfortune) Em and I went driving from town to town trying to locate a dentist that could provide same day care. We eventually found one and for the nice and low price of 110 euros, my tooth was once again encased in a composite resin.

Due to my unplanned dental emergency, there was only time for one more site. Ormond Castle was the winning of the illustrious privilege. Ormond Castle was another of the many dwellings owned by the Butler family. This castle is a 15^th century Elizabethan manor house built by Thomas Butler who returned from England after having lived there for much of his child- and young adulthood. There are two things of note at this home. Butler added the manor house on to the ruins of an older castle that was located on the site and incorporated the castle towers that were there, so one can walk between the castle and the home without even realizing that you’re changing buildings.  Many believe that the manor house is styled after English architecture due to Thomas missing what was familiar to him from having lived in England for so long. The second really interesting thing about this home is that there is an entire long hall dedicated to Queen Elizabeth I, Butler’s cousin. Elizabeth called Thomas her “Black Husband” and there is belief that she was the mother of one of his children. Thomas created the ceiling plaster work that lined the hall in her image in anticipation of a visit that was never to be.

Being that we got there at the end of the day, we ended up with our own private tour and were able to pester the guide with tons of questions. She handled this good-naturely and then passed us off on another of the guides. We and the other guide were so engrossed in discussing the errors that are purposely added to Flemish tapestries (because God is the only truly perfect being and therefore depictions of regular, abet Royal, people cannot be perfect) that the remaining guides had to nudge us all out the door when they went to lock up for the evening.

Finally we reached Kilkenny (after driving a hundred miles out of the way to visit Waterford and finding everything closed and then almost running over 100s of people walking in the middle of the road to a graveyard for an annual remembrance day outside of Kilkenny…yes we are terrible people for even thinking of hitting them all) and determined that it was indeed a good last city for our trip. Everywhere we went people asked if we were going to the Bruce Springsteen concert. The Boss was finishing out his UK tour with two shows in Kilkenny and therefore the town was packed more than usual. One of Bruce’s can we say stalker fans was staying in the hostel with us and regaled us with his life story. He was a Swede that was enamored with Springsteen and moved to New York so he could be close to all the places that Bruce held dear. In addition, he spent his year saving up so that he could spend his summer going to ever concert Bruce put on. To date, he’d been to 47. Nice guy, but total nutcase.

Kilkenny started as an ecclesiastical foundation in the 6^th century, turned into a Norman merchant town by the 13^th century and was granted city status in the 1600s. The town is known as a famous brewery. Currently Smithwicks (pronounced without the “w”) ale (and Budweiser in the same plant) are the flavors of the day, but centuries ago, the abbey that was located in the same place was known for its own brewing. In addition to the brewery, there are a plethora of other famous sites to visit in the city itself. Em and I visited the Kilkenny Castle, the Rothe House, and road the train car.

Can you guess who owned Kilkenny Castle (at least from the mid-1300s)? Same family that seemed to own everything else in this region of the country, the Butler’s. Although the castle’s fame starts earlier than its habitation by the Butler clan, when it was but a wooden fort built by Richard de Clare, 2^nd Earl of Pembroke, commonly known as Strongbow (an important Irish historical figure) during the 12^th century. James Butler bought the home in 1391 and built it into the castle that would be the main seat of power for the Butler family until the last heir sold it the Irish state in 1935 for a mere £50. The estate has been refurbished with many 19^th century pieces so that visitors could see what one of these stone fortresses might have actually looked like. And beautiful and regal it looked.

After waiting out the rainstorm via visiting an art center and adding our own bits to a compilation piece, we headed to the Rothe House in the middle of town. The Rothe House is 17^th century merchant townhouse complex built by John Rothe Ftiz-Piers that is comprised of three houses, three enclosed courtyards, and a large reconstructed garden with orchard (it is also home to a family of six ducks and three interloping cats). The house is owned by the Kilkenny Archaeological Society and doubles as a museum to showcase some of their collection.

On this trip, Em and I had driven in cars, flown on planes, sailed on boats, ridden on bikes, and walked all over. The one thing we hadn’t done was ride on a train. It seemed that every time we attempted this feat, something came up. So when I saw the nerdy-ist tourist trap ever, the Train Car, I just had to ride it. This is a two car (“train” and passenger car) vehicle designed to look like a toy train that takes you around the town on a 30 minute tour and tells you the history of many of the buildings and sites. With childlike glee and a step away from lolling my tongue like a pup as I hung my head out the window, I thoroughly enjoyed my half hour ride.

Our last site for the day was a little outside Kilkenny itself and was called the Dunmore Cave. The cave is a large underground system of caverns that were uncovered by a shake hole (like a sink hole but caused by seismic activity). There is evidence that the cave system was used by humans but not lived in, except for one notable exception. In 928 AD, there was a massacre carried out by the Vikings where they slaughtered hundreds of women, children, and elderly as they hid in the caverns. It is believed that the Vikings lit fires to smoke out their victims, which they then cut down. Those that remained in hiding most likely died of smoke inhalation. Besides its bloody history, the cave is noted for its large collection of stalagmites and stalactites.

Our last day in the country and for the trip started with a visit to Jerpoint Abbey. Here Em and I learned the dismal fate that awaited the second born son of a noble family. The first son got the land and wealth and the second son was shipped off to lead a long, hard, cloistered life in a monastery by the age of 14. The son was usually shipped off with a large amount of wealth or land as a sign of good faith and to ensure that the family stayed on the good side of God. For the son, it meant long hours of work and religious study, with little sleep and less food. I don’t think I would have lasted five days before running away.

Jerpoint Abbey was a Cistercian monastery built in 1180 by Donogh O'Donoghoe Mac Gilla Patraic, the King of the Kingdom of Ossory. The Cistercian order was an off-shoot of the Benedictine order who felt that the Benedictines were becoming too liberal in the interpretation of their vows and wanted to go back to a more rigid practice. The abbey itself contains some beautiful craved stonework (which was added in the later centuries when this order itself started moving towards allowing beauty and non-essential items into its hallow halls).

After an informative tour, we headed to Thomastown for a lunch, a chat with some friendly locals and then a long and scenic drive to the western coast and then up to Dublin. We stopped in the city of Enniscorthy briefly before heading north to Bray. Bray was a wonderful little beach side community. Sort of like the Malibu of Ireland. There were large villas situated on a hill overlooking the ocean. It was an adorable final place to visit. We also enjoyed a great last dinner (Em finally got a Duck entrée that tasted how she expected it too…even I thought it was okay and I’m not much for duck).

Our final morning dawned and we headed to the airport to fly to our respective locations. I said goodbye to the Raunchy Truck Driver and headed back to the desert.

Killarney to Cashel

We ended in Killarney for the evening with the intent of going to the Ring of Kerry the next day. We really didn’t know what the Ring of Kerry was, but assumed that it was similar to the Cliffs of Moher and in a way it is; the Ring of Kerry is a scenic drive around a peninsula that passes through a few small towns that are stated to be cute, friendly, and touristy. Sounded like a nice day out, but we never did find out as our hostel host for the evening convinced us that going on the drive around the Dingle Bay peninsula along the Slea Head trail was better. The Dingle peninsula is the northernmost of the two peninsulas in Kerry County (the other being the Kerry peninsula).

To do the Dingle Bay loop, with time to stop and “smell the roses” or walk around a bit takes 3-6 hours. From Killarney, Em and I headed to Dingle Town, about an hour north of Killarney. The town is another small fishing village nestled on the Atlantic coast, with an overly friendly tourist office, a smattering of coffee shops and pubs, and some window shopping options.

This is also the town where the whether decided that it was done with the aberrant summer and it was the time for a return of rain. As we left our car and started to walk into the center of town, the heavens opened and we felt true Irish summer. Of course, 10 minutes after we take shelter in a warm coffee shop, the clouds part and the sun appears. Then we received weird looks from everyone as they apparently were smart enough to wait out the 10 minute rainfall and therefore did not look like drowned rats for a good hour or two.

The route around this peninsula takes you along the coastal route and past a few old forts, villages, museums, and churches. We visited a few. We went to the Dunbeg Fort (a promontory fort built during the Iron Age and set on the cliff edge overlooking the ocean), Clochán (dry-stone huts with corbelled roofs as known as “bee hive huts” due to their shape), Inch beach, and a small Celtic Museum run out of a guy’s house (but he did have a very impressive collection of archaeological artifacts and was recognized as an official museum by Ireland).

The entire route was gorgeous and we enjoyed our drive immensely. Upon returning to Killarney it was only midafternoon so we attempted to visit Ross Castle. The castle is another stone Tower house and was home to the O’Donoghue clan and later the Brownes of Killarney.  We never got to go inside as they only had a spot for one more on their tour and no amount of begging would convince them to let both of us go and count it as one person.

Since Ross Castle was a bust, Em and I headed a few miles further into Killarney National Park to visit the Muckross House. They have a working farm there was you can visit, but there was only time left to see the house. The house is really a 65 room Tudor style mansion that was built in 1843 for a single couple. My favorite part of this house is that all of the major rooms are outfitted with an old fashion bell system wherein the masters of the house could pull an artfully concealed string and it would cause a bell in the basement (servants’ area) to ring. There were 22 bells all of different sizes and therefore different tones and so when one rang, a servant could tell what room of the house to respond to.

Outside the house was a very nice set of gardens and the national park. Down the street a bit was the Muckross Abbey, which appeared as if it were straight out of a Tim Burton movie. The abbey is now desolate and abandoned, but one is allowed to wander around. The light fog in the air as we wandered added to the mysterious allure of the place and the giant yew tree growing in the middle of the inner courtyard was just fantastic.

After a nice dinner we headed inland to Cork. Em had booked us a hostel online that was rated as # 1 for the last few years and looked cute and quaint from the photos. It was neither quaint nor #1 in our book. Coming from having worked some cases in the Santa Barbara County Jail, I felt as if I had gone back there to actually spend the night. When you walk in the front door, the hostel (Shelia’s Tourist Hostel) is cute, with a small café/reception area and a large utilitarian internet room, but behind this area the layout gets weird. We were directed to walk up the stairs, past the kitchen and down the hall. Leading off of the main stairwell are rows of doors that I can only assume lead to other rooms giving you the feel that there are hundreds of people behind the walls (and there probably where) instead of the few dozen that you were expecting. The kitchen (which I only glimpsed as I hurried by) scared me with a long row of rusted Bunsen burner type ranges along one counter and a huge table in the middle. It seemed like a high school science room more than a kitchen. The bathroom was a two-toilet-two-shower-co-ed-bathroom for entire floor (about 6 rooms of 6-10 people each). The best though was the actual dorm room. This was a white brick walled, windowless room with six bunk beds forming a U-shape around the perimeter and an open space of maybe 3 X2 feet in the center (hell in jail you have more space than that and you have open bars at one side so the Claustrophobia doesn’t set in). Em and I both agreed that we were only staying the one night (and not the two we’d originally planned).

Cork sprung up from a small monastic settlement in the 6^th century into the third largest city in Ireland. It’s a neat, older city with a lot of history. We only walked around a bit and then headed 6 km outside of town for the real attraction, Blarney Castle and the Blarney Stone. Blarney Castle is a medieval castle that like most in the region was built, destroyed, built again, destroyed again, and so on for many generations. It gets its current name from the 1847 baronial mansion that was built on the site.

It is said that Queen of England Elizabeth I, coined the term “Blarney” in response to Cormac Teige McCarthy’s flowery way with words during negotiations of the takeover of Blarney Castle by the occupying English forces. Cormac himself was the King of Munster, living in the Blarney Castle around the14th century and would artfully talk the Queen out of what she wanted. She is stated to have eventually decried “Enough with your Blarney!”

The Blarney Stone which is high up in the castle wall was rumored to have been created by a witch during the Middle Ages and is said to give the “gift of eloquence” or “gift of gab” to those that kiss it. As such it has a long history of people trudging up the tower steps to lie on the ground, hang partially upside down, and kiss it. Em and I joined this list (although we’re not sure whether we kissed the right rock as the guide kind of tilted you backwards and said “there you go” but there were a few stones to choose from). One thing us and all the people we got to know as we waited in line with agreed on though, was that, the stone might not give us all the gift of a silver tongue for the next 7 years, but it might be a perfect conduit for transmitting herpes. And if Em starts talking even more incessantly and faster for the next 7 years, that’s not my fault.

The castle itself is pretty cool as it is all self-guided and there are areas there that are open to venture into that at other castles you can’t visit. There are dungeons and cave systems under the castle foundations, a poison garden with well written descriptions of what everything plant is capable of, and my favorite, a garden with waterfall and lush foliage surrounding and old series of druid ruins (including a witch’s home and wishing steps). I lost Em in the witch’s garden for an hour or so and almost gave her up as having been lost to the witch as payment for the entrance into her world.

We returned to Cork from our visit to Blarney and went to visit the Cork Goal (jail). We had tried to see this in the morning, but due to being three inches away from being the victims of a car crash (the car in front of us was hit by a person running a stop sign…this seems to be the norm unfortunately as the Irish make a “California Roll” seem like a complete stop with time for a coffee break) we decided to avoid the city for a bit.

The Gaol, known also as Sunday’s Well due to the location in the city that housed it, was open for 100 years (1823 to 1924). The tour through here was similar to the Kilmainham Gaol in Dublin that we saw before. The main differences were that this jail had multiple wings (instead of one main one), there was a period where it was a women’s only prison, the tour included not-very-real-like mannequins representing some of the main characters that were in the jail, and instead of being well known for executing revolutionists and thus inciting Irish passion for freedom, it was known for a famous jail break (42 men escaped, but most were recaptured within a week or two). 

Since Em and I had no urge to stay in jail again ourselves for the evening (aka Shelia’s Tourist Hostel), we headed to Cashel for the night.

Cashel is mainly known because upon the limestone hill at the town of the town is the Rock of Cashel. Old mythology (and the reason Em and I wanted to see the place) states that when Saint Patrick banished the devil, the devil flew over the Devil’s Bit (a mountain 20 miles away), and bit a chunk off. As the devil flew over Cashel, he dropped the bite he’d taken and that Rock became The Rock. There’s another version of the story that I like better in which the devil purposely dropped the rock in an effort to prevent a church from being built. Regardless of the origins of the rock, it became an ideal place for building first a ring fort, later a castle, and finally a church. The Rock of Cashel was also the seat of power for the Kings of Munster for many generations and it is reputed to be the site of the conversion of the King of Munster by Saint Patrick in the 5th century.

After viewing The Rock, we lazily made our way to Kilkenny, our last stop on this adventure.