Still Ireland

After the mass finished I went in search of Kilkenny Castle. Much to my disappointment the entire road in front of the castle was being ripped up for extensive construction. The castle was open, but there was no possible view of it that did not include construction equipment and chain-link fences. One could only get into the castle by doing the guided tour, and I decided not to fork over the euros. Mainly because my Lonely Planet guide (seriously the best investment ever; I felt like it was my own personal Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy [which you should read if you haven't, because it's bloody hilarious]) informed me that although the castle itself is 12-14th century, it has been modified and is now furnished with Victorian style things. I could tell just by walking into the reception area that it didn't quite have that legit castle atmosphere I sought. Instead I went into the basement of the castle, which housed a free contemporary Irish art gallery. My opinion of the gallery was more or less the same as it is of all the modern/contemporary art galleries I've seen: some of it I really enjoyed, some of it I found ugly but appreciated the artist's skill, and some of it just irritated me (like the men's bathroom sign with graffiti on it that was entitled "Found Graffiti").

After walking around the castle's park a bit, I got lunch. Then I finished up the afternoon by visiting the National Craft Gallery. One part of it was a large shop full of handmade Irish-y things. It was great fun to shop there, but as I was not ridiculously wealthy I did not buy anything. The current exhibit in the gallery was of jewelry made by students who were studying metallurgy/whatever it is aspiring jewelers study. It was quite cool. I followed it up by wandering about the gardens of the old manor house that now houses the administration of the National Craft Gallery.

I had a nice evening in Kilkenny. I got dinner at a pub, then took a nap during the in-between hours. The "in-between hours" is the name I have given to the time in between when you get dinner and when music starts in the pubs; it is usually about two hours. I also spent some time in the common room in my hostel. It was considerably warmer than the rest of the hostel because it had a fireplace. While there I made friends with a Japanese boy called Shin who was studying library information sciences and enjoyed drawing. Around 9:30 I went to a small pub across from the hostel that had advertised live music.

It was a really great night out. It was definitely a local pub, unlike many of Dublin's pubs. It was a Monday night, so there were probably only about 25 people there--5 of whom were playing music. And they didn't have microphones or speakers or anything; it was just a group of older guys sitting around a table in the corner, playing and singing. Occasionally one of their friends would come and stand next to the table and sing a song while they played. It was abundantly clear that they would have been doing the same thing even if the pub had been empty. The music was great, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I tried a different stout, Murphy's, that was not as good as Guinness. I also tried Bulmer's, an Irish hard cider, and it was tasty.

The next morning I got up ridiculously early (6:30) to catch a bus out of Kilkenny. My plan was to go to the small towns of Cahir and Cashel in County Tipperary for the day and catch a bus for Galway in the evening. Getting to Cahir involved changing buses at the town of Clonmel, and my 45 min at Clonmel were the most miserable of my whole trip. The bus station was combined with the rail station, and there was a waiting room, but it was completely exposed to the elements. Since the weather was cold and drizzly (noticed a pattern yet?) it made for a thoroughly unpleasant wait, and there was nowhere within walking distance to get a hot drink.

Cahir was quite a cool stop, though. It had a large ruined castle that oozed atmosphere, and the overcast weather seemed to suit it perfectly. It was only a euro to get in, and I was literally the only visitor there. I had the castle to myself. Once inside the grounds, I had more or less complete freedom to amble around. I was even free to climb up the castle walls and walk around on the ramparts. There were a couple of exhibits inside the castle proper, and some rooms had bare furnishings, but mostly it had been left alone. It was fun exploring. I must admit I even got a bit spooked at times, wandering up and down the tightly spiraling, dimly lit stone staircases alone. The castle itself is situated in the middle of the river that runs through town, and I bet it's beautiful in the springtime. It was well worth the stop and the euro.

From Cahir I went to Cashel to see the Rock of Cashel, a sort of sprawling medieval complex on a large hill. My backpack had been an irritating burden at Cahir Castle so I asked the reception at the Rock if I could leave it anywhere. "Well, you can put it under that staircase there, if you like," said the guy, indicating a wooden staircase in the corner. I was a bit dubious but reasoned that everything important was in my messenger bag anyway; if anyone stole the backpack they would be disappointed and I could easily replace everything. I ditched it. Unfortunately, almost as soon as I stepped outside of the reception area to the ruins proper, rain began coming down in sheets and the wind picked up. My umbrella was nearly worthless; my bag was getting soaked, my shoes and jeans were soaked, and it was cold. It really was a gorgeous place, and I had intended to spend a couple of hours there. I imagine I could have happily done so, but the Irish weather defeated me. I walked around the site quickly, taking what pictures I could. There was a ruined cathedral, a mostly intact chapel, and a nice round tower. There's also a sprawling graveyard on the site, dominated by Celtic crosses. The surrounding countryside was beautiful. The weather was just not even remotely conducive to ambling about medieval ruins. So I retrieved my backpack and walked back into town as quickly as I could, getting soaked on the way. To get to Galway, I had to go back to Cahir then transfer. As I said, I'd planned on spending the whole afternoon in Cashel (there were other heritage sites I thought I'd see apart from the Rock, and it looked like a cute town), but now my whole bus schedule planning was off--I just wanted to be in a room. Luckily a bus for Cahir came by as soon as I got to the bus stop--but once in Cahir I had to wait quite a bit for the next bus to Galway.

I got lunch while I waited and then wandered back to the bus shelter. The shelter did nothing about the wind and not much about the rain either. There was still a half hour to go before the bus came, so I hurried across the street into a pub to warm up. It was only the afternoon, so apart from me and the publican there was only one other person there, an ancient little Irishman with a newspaper splayed out in front of him. I took a seat at the counter and ordered a Bailey's coffee. "Where'd you come from and where are you going?" the publican asked me cheerfully as he set about getting my drink. And we chatted for the next twenty minutes or so, about Ireland and London and the US. He once spent a month in Columbus, OH (he fondly recalled the drinking scene there) and he had been to New York (he confessed he hadn't done much there because he spent most of it drunk). He told me he thought President Obama was a good lad, but that he supposed it would be nice to have a pint with George Bush. I told him how much I enjoyed Ireland and London. When it was time for me to go to my bus, he told me that my drink was on him. I suppose he took pity on my bedraggled state; he wished me luck as I left.

The ride to Galway was a long one and involved changing buses at Limerick. On the bus I watched the weather out of the window and the rain changed to sunshine, which promptly gave way to sleet, which became thick snow, which became hail, which became sunshine, which became driving rain...the awfulness of the weather was absurd. I spend most of my life in places with absolutely terrible weather (Michigan and Pittsburgh, and London's weather is pretty awful too) and I was sort of morbidly fascinated by just how horrible this weather was. But when I got off the bus in Galway it was back to the familiar cold drizzle. My hostel was within a few minutes' walk of the station, right off of Eyre Sq, the city's central park area. After checking into my 8 person room (I was the only one in it), I went out for groceries. That night I stayed in and enjoyed a dinner of soup, bread, cheese, and bread with blackcurrant jam for dessert. It was a satisfying escape from the weather and when I went to bed, I finally felt warm and dry.

Nora, a friend of mine from Pitt (we took a Tolkien & Lewis class together), is studying in Galway this semester. She had invited me to call her when I got to town, so I sent her a text the night I got in telling her I was there and asking whether she'd be free the next night for a pint. She responded by inviting me to come along on a day tour of Connemara National Park with her and her cousin the following morning, which I agreed to. So I got up the next morning, feeling well-rested, and noted happily that the sun was out and the sky appeared clear. I got into the shower, and when I got out I had a text from Nora saying that they weren't going to go because of the weather. Confused, I pulled back my shades again. It was snowing wildly. I agreed to meet up with Nora later in the day, and then went to take advantage of the hostel's free breakfast while coming up with a game plan for the day.