Europe Day 37 of 59, Killarney to Cork

You might as well call day 37, "The Day of Castles and Food." We thought we'd covered all of the Killarney bases, but last night I looked at Wikipedia and spotted, "Ross Castle." Apparently, this castle sits not far away from our hotel on the shore of the lake. Our agenda today was just to drive to Cork an hour and a half away, so there was no reason to not pay Ross Castle a visit before hitting the road.

To think that we nearly missed this sucker. Sitting on the edge of the lake, Ross Castle is a small, picturesque castle built sometime in the 1400's by one of the O'Donaghue Ross chieftain. We were glad that we took the time.

The thing about castles is that you can really take pictures of them all day. It's not like there's an angle that you look at it and think, "Hmm. Stone and mortar fifty feet tall. Not impressed." I have a feeling that a large portion of a castle's defensive usefulness was psychological. Intimidation. As in, "Why on Earth even try to storm that thing when people up there will be aiming at me down here?"

Candid shot of Barbie in front of Ross Castle.

They only allow guided tours here. We really do not care for that, as I have Wikipedia and Barbie has ADD. We decided to forgo the tour, and therefore we did not make it up THERE.

That is me, against the wall with an imaginary sword, wondering how the heck I am going to fight my way in.

I had to include a shot the showed the lakeside.

On the way to the parking lot, one last pic. I tell you, it is impossible to not take picture after picture of a castle. They're better than supermodels. Even supermodels take a bad picture now and then. Castles? Never.

Time to hit that road. Look at that. Los Angeles to Santa Barbara, that's all it is.

Just outside Killarney, the road to Cork. There are many beautiful hillsides, sometimes looking like Northern California with pine trees everywhere, sometimes looking like Colorado with rock outcroppings and trees. Always beautiful.

This joke took days, maybe even a week to set up. Ready? Okay. (Pause.) "HAY!" (Look at the pic again if you didn't get it.) I took several more photos of Macroom, the town halfway between Killarney and Cork. But none of them made the blog. Why? Just buildings, roads and cars.

Except for this pic outside Macroom. Our dear friend and Picasso's substitute for trip theme, Brüno, alone on the hillside.

On the way into Cork, we diverted to Blarney Castle. And on the way to Blarney Castle, we stopped at the Muskerry Arms Pub & Restaurant.

Consistency should be admired.

Barbie's fish & chips, my shepherd's pie. Consistency.

Blarney Castle. Home of the Blarney Stone. And inspiration for one informative and entertaining Wikipedia entry.

From the side, where you can see the guard tower as well as the castle. Twice as tall as Ross Castle, and twice as intimidating.

Whenever I see them gathered like this, a French accented voice in my head says, "Dahm Tooreests."

Barbie ready to fire arrows at the peasants outside the castle.

In a past life, I must have s;pent time in a medieval prison. I cannot see bars without having this reaction.

What you are supposed to notice in this pic is that I cannot get through this doorway. Not sure it worked. But look, my shoulders are pinned to the stone. If I had an IQ in the teens, I would stand like that for hours, pushing and pushing against the doorway unsure why I wasn't moving forward.

The circular steps up to the top of the castle.

A very happy lady.

The view from the top.

Over there are people participating in the Blarney.

A very inventive defensive design I have not seen in other castles. The top of Blarney Castle was built with these gaps facing directly down so that attackers could not seek safety up against the wall below. In fact, they would be sitting ducks. The Blarney Stone itself rests in the wall above one of these openings. There are countless tales why it is special, and not one is proven or even likely to be true.

Babrie kissing the Blarney Stone.

Here is my own unverified theory on the Blarney Stone. This castle was an attraction for its size and beauty. There were these defensive slits at the top, where you looked down 100 feet, and some guy said to his buddy, "I dare you to kiss that stone there." It was no different from any other stone in the castle, it just happened to be one of the many stones that was wicked difficult to reach, let alone get your lips to. The guy did it. This courageous activity became sort of a tradition, and over time people started making up stories for why they were doing this. The one that stuck is that after kissing it you are rewarded, "The gift of gab." And now thousands of people put their lips to this thing every year.

Amusingly, the word "blarney" came to mean "bulls--t" because of Queen Elizabeth I. The McCarthy chieftain of Blarney would get involved in long discussions with the Queen's emissary in which he would speak like a politician, going on and on without actually saying anything. Exasperated, Queen Elizabeth said, "This is all blarney. What he says he never means!" Thus, the word "blarney" was born. So, you see, the Blarney Stone is the Bulls--t Stone. Hilarious, no?

Amazing view from up here.

That is the Blarney Stone, right THERE.

Entering Cork, we spotted these very cool buildings. No idea what they are.

The entrance to the Hayfield Manor Hotel. Our home for a day.

It looks like an estate from Victorian times, but it was actually built in 1996. In my opinion, this means our hotel has the class of the old with the comforts of the new.

The Hayfield Manor Hotel lobby. Who's ready for a suite tour?

You walk in the door and see, "The sitting room."

The sitting room, with doors to the small patio.

Outside the sitting room, the hallway to the bedroom.

On your way to the bedroom, you see the area with the wardrobe and bathroom.

The bedroom from the desk, facing the bed.

The bedroom from the bed, facing the desk.

I noticed an open parking spot just outside our sitting room, and I asked the valet who carried our bags (and who was going to park our car for us) if he would park it there, so that we could just stick our bags in it tomorrow instead of bothering to get any help. Like any five star hotel employee, he said, "Sounds good to me." We love the idea that we're at this five star hotel with our car outside the window like a motel.

Why do we order room service so often? No need to get dressed ina presentable way at the end of a long day. No need to walk some place and sit there and wait for our food. Instead, you order what you want, keep unpacking or answering email or watching TV, and in a short while food arrives at your door.

Mine, the soup of the day and the pasta of the day. Cream of broccoli soup and tagliatelle pasta with salmon and asparagus. Barbie's, house salad with artichoke hearts and seafood chowder.

I was going to show you a pic of all the empty plates, but they came and took it away before I got around to it.

Tomorrow we fly back to the continent, and tomorrow night we already have plans for a dinner with Andre. Seriuosly, Barbie's friend and client Andre is in Amsterdam and we have dinner reservations with him. Should be fun.