Holly's Post

I did it, Holly! I made it out to the Dingle Peninsula! Now you can let me come back from Ireland, thank goodness. For everyone else: I made Holly a pinky promise back in December that I would absolutely not leave Ireland without visiting the Dingle Peninsula. Actually... I think that means I broke my promise because technically I went to Scotland first... but I hope I more than made up for it with my documentation. I'll let you be the judge, Holly. I still have three weeks to cancel my flight if you deem me unworthy of returning home (or three weeks to go back out and satisfy the Dingle terms). So allow me to give you a little rundown of our afternoon adventure so that you feel personally acquainted with the area before you retire there.

After a fair bit of driving through the countryside from Killarney,the road went straight into this beach (literally - you can see the cars quite a ways out because folks were free to drive out to where they pleased):

We then followed the road to the right and drove along the southern coast before veering inland for a bit, which gave us views like this:

It also gave me my first encounter with sheep holding up traffic. I know, I know, quite disappointing that it hadn't happened prior, but that must just be due to the use of buses and slightly more driven roads. But this poor fellow had the World's Worst border collie. He was bringing up a herd of lambs at the back of the flock and one of them suddenly darted off and started making a wide loop around to return to its home paddock. The man pointed at the lamb, signaled to the dog... and it just stood there and watched the lamb run by. Then others started to follow suit and the order collie actually shrank back behind its owner. When was the last time you saw a dog that was afraid of little lambs?! Eventually they all went scampering off back down the hill and the man had to go back and start all over again. But in good Irish fashion a handful of people had pulled over and gotten out to help the guy with his herding.

But we continued on our way and soon after arrived in the charming fishing village of Dingle.

I took plenty of pictures because I didn't want you to miss a single thing, Holly, don't worry. Though I hope you're not disappointed; after a very solemn debate we decided against going on the boat ride to visit Friendly Fungi the Dingle Dolphin. But there was a statue of him and some timber playmates so we still felt his joyful presence.

After lunch we drove further west to the tip of the peninsula, passing some fascinating and stunning sights along the way:

beehive huts - standing for over 4000 years (supposedly there are 414 in just a three mile stretch)

(okay, maybe not really 'fascinating' or 'stunning')

And, well, the rest of the drive was not terribly thrilling or noteworthy, but here's some proof that we circled around the tip of the peninsula:

The westernmost tip of the mainland... I couldn't resist going down there.

So what's the verdict? Do you still want to move here so you can introduce yourself as "Holly of Dingle"?

"To kiss it, you must be held by the legs, head downwards, over the battlements"

This is, of course, in reference to the Blarney Stone, the legendary Stone of Eloquence. Yes my friends, the Wharton family (sans one much missed brother) visited Blarney Castle and I can now proudly say, "Veni, vidi... osculari!" In fact, we all kissed the stone. I wasn't about to let my parents get away with flying all the way to Ireland and climbing to the top of a crumbling, seven-storied, narrow-staircased castle without doing their rightful duty.

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I'd also like to take this moment to insert my humble opinion and assert that the next time you find yourself in Cork, Ireland, go spend half a day (at least) strolling the grounds of Blarney Castle and, if you're feeling adventurous (and appropriately dressed to get a little muddy), explore Badger's Cave, a really extensive network of underground tunnels that supposedly led from the castle all the way to a nearby village. And by all means kiss the Blarney Stone! A woman behind us made this exact trek, but when she saw that she had to lie upside down and hang over the edge above a terrifying plummet to certain death should the old fellow assisting let her slip, she changed her mind. Don't let that be you!

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This fireplace was big enough to roast a side of beef...

little farmers market outside the entrance to Blarney Castle and Grounds

We also went down to the charming fishing village of Kinsale for lunch, which is just over a bridge from the closest point of land to where the Lusitania was torpedoed (though how exactly you would know you're standing at this location is beyond me as apparently there's not a plaque or, well, anything at all to signify the event or the place).

Anyway, our time in Cork was much enjoyed, though much too short (seemingly a theme of the whole trip until my parents got stranded here). OH! And on a very serious note: if you're ever anywhere in the general area of Cork you absolutely must go out of your way (and down an absurdly narrow alley) to eat at Jacques.

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Blackrock Castle and Observatory

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St. Finn Barre's Cathedral

(to the left of the main doors stood the 'Wise Virgins', to the right stood the 'Foolish Virgins')

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* - photo courtesy of Mom

** - photo courtesy of Dad

*** - photo courtesy of a random passerby who didn't really speak English

(From Scotland Part II)

To read my other post about Scotland from Friday, April 23, 2010 check here: Good News and Scotland

I Never Thought I Would Say This...

But I'm stranded in Ireland. So are my parents. We were all supposed to leave this morning, them returning home, me flying to Spain, but my flight was cancelled yesterday, not flying again until Monday... their flight took off from the states to come here, got two hours out, and turned around and flew back.

The hotel we're staying at is even mocking me! This was posted at the elevators when I first arrived yesterday:

A news article reported that, "...in 1821, the same volcano managed to erupt for more than a year." If I have to go native, it's been good knowing everyone!

P.S. for those of you who've been wondering, the Eyjafjallajokull volcano is pronounced "ay-yah-FYAH'-plah-yer-kuh-duhl."

(From Scotland)

Go to my blog from Scotland to see the post from Sunday, April 4, 2010: Oops