So I got to Wexford and went to a cafe. I desperately needed something to eat. As I was sitting there, a woman asked me what brought me from Nova Scotia to Wexford (I have a NS luggage tag on my pack as opposed to a Canada flag). As it turns out, she is from Ontario and her and her husband is from Wexford. They have a store in town and we spoke a little about Canadianisms. As I was heading out, another woman stopped to ask me if I was from Canada as well and she also had lived for a time in Ontario. Neat. I would later come to the realization that most people have some sort of connection to Canada here. It's so odd. So after having a bit of something to eat, I took off to go find my hostel. I got a little lost (it is impossible to get really lost there) but made my way up the hill to the hostel. It was pretty empty and a little sketchy. I wasn't crazy about it and the woman who was kind of running the hostel was really quiet which also made me a little nervous. But I left my stuff and went for a walk around. And it started to rain. So I sought refuge in a pub that I passed earlier and looked quaint. It wasn't. There were four people in the whole bar and none were under the age of 50. It smelled bad, but they were listening to the match on the radio. It had character, I suppose. And when I went up for a second pint and didn't have the cash, the old man sitting at the bar sent one over anyway. I told him that he didn't have to do that. His response was simply “welcome to Wexford”.
The following day I got up to leave for Waterford. There was no hot water in the shower, so I just decided to leave. Outside was raining slightly, but not so much that it bothered me. When I got to the stop I was in a downpour that was pretty intense. My pack is not waterproof. I know it is resistant, but maybe to normal rain, not Irish rain. It was an interesting experience anyway. So when I got to Waterford, I checked in even though the room wasn't fixed yet. The woman was intensely apologetic, which was completely not necessary as I was there pretty early. I left my stuff behind and went out to wander around the city. A co-worker of mine told me not to bother going to Waterford. I am so glad I didn't listen to him. It is such a cute little place! I could totally live there if I could find a job. I wandered around in the rain and came upon the Waterford Crystal Factory. I decided to take the tour, which was the first tour I have taken since being here. It was totally fascinating, even though it sounds boring. See, when I worked at Rob McIntosh I used to sell the stuff, so I was very curious about the process. The factory actually closed recently and this new facility opened as little as a couple of months ago, so everything was pretty new. They showed us first how they still make moulds out of wood for the glass but because the life span of a wooden mould is only about seven items, they do not use them frequently. More often a cast iron mould is used. We went to see them blow the glass and how hot the glass really is. Again, it was extremely neat. Then they showed us how they inspect for imperfections and finish the crystal, getting it ready for cutting. The patterns on the pieces of crystal are all done by hand and they are not etched on the glass as a pattern to follow. They actually spend seven years memorizing the patterns and the only guide they get is a grid. It was so impressive. So, the tour was well worth it. I am not the biggest fan of the pieces of crystal myself, but I certainly have a new appreciation for all the work that goes into it.
After that, I went back to the hostel to get a much needed shower. And when I got out I saw that the sun was actually shining!!! So I definitely headed out to take advantage of that. I walked around a bit before going for a walking tour at 7:30pm. I found some neat abandoned churches and murals. Then I went to meet the tour at 7:30 and I ended up being the only person there. It was a little awkward but the bonus ended up being that I would not have to pay for it, as I originally thought. The tour guide was about my age, which is kind of why it was a little awkward to be kind of lectured about things one on one but I think we got a good rapport going by the end of it. He was impressed by my knowledge of things we went to see. I suppose most people don't bother reading about the places they go, but when I get to a place, the first thing I do is go to a tourist information spot and get a map and read some free information. So a lot of the things he was telling me I already knew. It was a good tour regardless. And it killed some time before heading down to the pub.
I had read that some of the pubs had traditional music on specific nights, so I headed out to one of them I had passed earlier in the day and went in. It was pretty empty. I set up at the corner of the pub and started listening and writing. I have found that when you write in pubs, a lot of people will come up to you and ask you questions about what you're writing and where you are from. Anyway, people kept coming up to order drinks and often I would speak to them. I met an Australian couple who was on vacation and an aerospace engineer from Texas who was not able to get a job, so he decided to sail around the world instead. Always people with stories. Awesome. A couple from Ireland sat down next to me and chatted with me for a while. Well, she did. He was more just letting his wife be a social butterfly. I mocked her a little for ordering a Budweiser. Then we got to chatting about my travelling around and how her son was doing the same thing. Then somehow it came up that I had never had a Guinness before. Well, she was just not going to accept that. She insisted rather strongly on purchasing one for me. So Anita from Longford bought me my first Guinness. And I liked it. I also got to chatting with a man next to me who is originally from Manitoba. He has been living in Belfast for the last 17 years and as a kid was all over Canada because his father was in the military. As it turns out he owns a bar in Belfast that is a Canadian pub. It is called Rockies. He asked me what university I attended and when I told him, he told me that he had a Tommies jersey hanging in his pub. That he has jerseys from all (or most) of the university teams across Canada and tons of other memorabilia. He kept buying me half pints of Guinness as well and we discovered that we were staying at the same place. I was in the hostel in the basement and he was in one of the guest houses upstairs. It was nice to have someone to walk me there because you never know what kind of neighbourhood you are in. He gave me his business card and I promised him that I would go to the bar when I get to Belfast. And I will.
The next day I was feeling a little shit and planning to go to Cork. There was a sign in the hostel saying that they offered a breakfast for 7eu, so I went upstairs in my pjs and went to eat. Well, it seems as though you need to book that the night before and you are not supposed to go into the dining room in your pjs. I felt so bad, but it isn't like that was specified anywhere at all. Oh well. I ate. Jim, the man from the night before, came into the dining room with his girlfriend (or wife, I am still not sure). We chatted a bit more and they told me that they were going to Cork as well. I decided to go downstairs and get ready for the day and then Jim came down to ask me if they could offer me a ride, since they were heading that way anyway. Okay! So I got ready quick and went with Jim, Arlene and their dog, Patch. It saved me some money, so why not? I sat in the front because they didn't want to put me with the dog and it was so weird to be on the driver's side without driving. Indescribably weird. But it was a great little jaunt down to Cork and they insisted on even driving me to the hostel. The name of the hostel I stayed at was Sheila's and that is Jim's mom's name. So we took a photo in front of it.
Cork was okay. The man who was at reception at the hostel was amazing and gave a lot of honest advice about the places you should and should not bother going. He actually told me about this monastery where you can stay for a few days in Cahermore and there are great hiking trails around there. He recommended it because tourists don't really go there and it would be relatively untouched. I gave some thought to going there for two days or so, but in the end I didn't because I would have had to hitchhike for a few miles and also, just because I chose not to... Though when I was at the station making my mind up, the bus for there was delayed. I tried not to take it as a sign that I should have gone. Oh well. So I went walking around Cork and got myself a little lost. There wasn't a whole lot to see, just a lot of shopping and kind of a neat little market where they sold food and goods. Just basic, really. That night at the hostel I met a couple from BC and they were backpacking all around for a while. They were in my room and actually shared a bed, which I found to be a little odd but they were respectful and that was much appreciated. I haven't come across too many sketchy or awkward situations in hostels. For example, people hooking up in the room. The most that happens is just drunk people stumbling in late and making some noise, but that is what ear plugs are for, anyway.
The next day I went and got a day train commuter pass for 10eu and went out to Midleton to go to the Jameson Distillery. I didn't have breakfast, so I knew this was going to be a bit of an adventure. I got on the train, and got off in the middle of a town where I had no idea where I was. The first thing I do when I go somewhere is look for a tourist information centre. Or at least somewhere where I can get a map and then figure out my own way. But there was nothing in Midleton. So I started to walk and I saw a man putting some children in a car. I decided to ask him directions and he gave me some, which I somewhat understood and I started on my merry way. Then it started to rain. Heavily. And of course, I did not bring my rain jacket with me. So I decided to stand under a tree for a bit and wait for the rain to let up a little. While I was waiting, the man stopped and offered me a lift, as he was heading in that direction anyway. It is a little strange how easily you accept rides from strangers here in Ireland. But I did and he took me there which was extremely kind of him. I went in and was surprised to learn that the cost of the tour was considerably more than what I expected. Good thing I had a coupon for 2eu off. I learned a lot about whiskey making and how it is actually illegal to sell whiskey in Ireland if it is not triple distilled and how if a batch was too strong it was typically given to the workers to consume. At the end of the tour they asked people if anyone wanted to be a taste tester for the whiskey. They had a few spots available and because it was early in the morning, I don't think too many people wanted to participate. They kept asking, so eventually I volunteered. They gave us three different shots of alcohol, diluted with water to make the taste come out more. Scotch, Jack Daniels and Jameson. I could tell the difference, yes, but I don't think I will ever be a big whiskey drinker. After the three shots, they gave us a complimentary drink mixed with whatever you would like. I got a whiskey and ginger ale. So three shots and a drink first thing in the morning left me in a pretty good mood. I got to talking to a woman and her husband who could not have been much older than me. They were on vacation from the United States. He was in the military at some point, so he had travelled a lot more than her, including coming to Ireland. They had rented a car as well, and I asked him how he found driving on the opposite side of the car and the road. He didn't mind it. They offered me a ride back to the train station and of course, I took it. And honestly, the ride was a little scary. This man had absolutely no fear, whereas I was in the back almost praying to make it out alive. But we found the station and said our goodbyes. Of course, I had arrived just as the train left, so I was outside waiting for a little while. Eventually it came and I went off to Carrigtwohill to see Barryscourt Castle. My first castle! I decided to check that one out because it was likely to be less busy than Blarney and cost less. And I was right. But I did arrive again just in time to miss the tour. So I had to wait for about an hour before the next tour left. My timings just were not matching up that day at all. Again, I was the only one taking the tour and this man was actually really awkward. He was very informed, but he spoke to me like he was reading from a script and like I was part of a big group. Maybe that killed it a little for me. But I don't think that was his intention. Not helping matters was the CREEPY man who worked in the tea shop. He like, would not speak to me. It was off-putting. So it was still cool being in a castle and I learned neat things like why most of them don't have their original roofs (there was a tax on castles that had roofs on them if they were on your property), and why the windows were so small (again, there was a tax based on how large your windows were – almost like an early power bill). When the tour was done, I set off back to the train only to miss it AGAIN. So I waited. And it rained. And it was getting late. My plan was to go to Cobh, which was the last port the Titanic visited before it sank, but I called them and by the time I would get there, the centre would be closed. I suppose I could have gone just for the village, but I was concerned about getting stuck out there. Definitely not something I needed. So I skipped it completely and went back to the hostel.
That night at the hostel I was staying in a room with two men from France and a girl from Spain. I got to speaking with them and they invited me down to the kitchen to have some red wine. I definitely accepted. So I went down and chatted with them for a while. They told me about where they were going and what they had seen. They said the only Canadian singer they could think of was Alanis Morisette and I got to practice my French. On the way back to my room, I ended up following another French man into a wrong room and we got to chatting a little as well. As it turns out, he had been to Quebec before and even visited Amos! It was pretty great to be reminded how small the world can be.
So the following day it was time to leave. I was intending to go down to that monastery and peninsula that the guy at the hostel mentioned before. I asked him a few more questions as I was checking out and he yelled “Go West, Denise!” as I was heading out the door. I ended up going to Kilarney instead. When I got there, I checked into my hostel and took a walk out to the national park. When I went to the travel information that is pretty much all they told me there was to do. I was tempted to rent a bike, but I decided against it and went to the park. It was really beautiful with mountains in the background and horse drawn carriages coming down the paths. I decided to take a walk out to Ross Castle, as it was only about 2.5kms out. But it cost money to get in, so I ended up just turning around. It was a good walk and I was properly tired by the time I got back to the hostel. I took a shower and turned in a little early, not before talking to a German girl in the room who had the same pack as me and a guy from Florida who was embarking on an 8 day hike out around the Dingle peninsula. As I was trying to sleep the people outside had a guitar and were singing. Rather poorly, even. And the ear plugs did not make a difference. Oh well.
The following day I had arranged to go on a tour out to Dingle and the peninsula as a day trip. The guy on the phone was a little dodgy and I had a feeling about it that I quickly dismissed. I got my stuff packed and checked out of the hostel. As I was waiting for the tour to come pick me up, I got to talking to a guy who I made the assumption was American, but was actually from Alberta. He was actually living and working in Iqaluit, which lead us to have pretty decent discussions about the north. I enjoyed it. So then I went out and waited for the tour to pick me up. And waited. And waited. I called them and the man who picked up understood me fine until I asked where they were and what was going on. Then it was a whole lot of “huh? I can't hear you”. I hung up. Then called back. And no one was answering. I was a little pissed off because I had booked a second night in a hostel, when otherwise I would have just left. So eventually a woman answered the phone and said that someone was going to be along in a moment. So I kept waiting. Eventually someone came and I definitely made my displeasure known as I got into the van. I definitely did not think that the right company had come to get me and I was a little sketched out by the whole thing, really. We had to go somewhere in town to pay and it seems as though the company I had booked with didn't want to go and just dumped me on someone else. Ugh. So I ended up paying for a tour that wasn't what I anticipated. Didn't get to stop all the places promised, and spent most of the day in the car. I guess the upside is that I was sitting in the front and the guide was relatively kind. But I wasn't too happy. We went for a drive and it was nice to see the peninsula, and eventually we all sort of warmed up to one another. I was in the car with a woman from the UK who liked to brag about her drinking and her travelling and how she had a rich husband to pay for it all. She was accompanied by a man whom she appeared to have known for years, but I didn't question the nature of the relationship. Then there were two Germans in the back who the driver just didn't think could understand him at all and he didn't seem too concerned with it. We had some chats and made semi-plans to go to a pub later where they were going to be playing some rebel songs. Sounded neat. They dropped me back into town and I checked into my hostel.
The hostel was full of annoying loud French teenagers who had no regards for anyone around them. I honestly hate it when hostels have young people staying there, clearly on vacation without adult supervision for the first time. So. Irritating. But I decided to ignore it. The people I was sharing a room with were a bunch of American students who were studying in Galway and travelling Ireland before they had to go back home. The only one I really remember was Brian who was from Sault Ste Marie, but not the one in Ontario – the one in Michigan.
So I decided to go out and have some drinks. See where the night took me. I walked into a few places, but they would not accept credit or debit cards as forms of payment. So I begrudgingly went and got some money out. As I was heading back to one of the places that had some promise, I ran into the German couple who were with me on the tour earlier. I invited them to come along with me and they accepted. We went to the pub and sat at the bar. There were bills from other countries all over it which appears to be a trend in some pubs. I actually managed to find and OLD Canadian 2$ bill, which was pretty exciting. I chatted with the man from Germany more than the woman because he was so eager to speak. She was an English teacher, so her English was excellent. He had a bit more trouble, so we chatted a while as they had a beer. After one they decided to go and I said my goodbyes, with the possibility for seeing them when I got to Galway. Then I got to chatting with another girl who was at the bar and from Finland. She was older, but we had a lot in common and we chatted the night away. At some points we met men, but they were generally boring or spoke really bad English. The pints were only 3.90eu and when I expressed shock, the bartender told me that I wasn't in Dublin anymore. Of course, this means I drank a lot of pints. I decided it was high time to head back, but then I ran into Brendan, the guy from the hostel and hung out for a while longer.
I did not feel good the next day. I knew I was leaving Killarney, but wasn't sure where I was going. On a whim I decided to go to Limerick. Bad choice. My first hint it was a poor choice was when I asked a local who sat next to me on the bus what there was to do. She told me I would be better off just going to Galway. But I wanted to go to Limerick. So I stopped and tried to find reasonably priced accommodation. All I could get was a hotel. So I did, which was a little annoying but really nice. I took a long bath (maybe even napped a little), washed some undergarments in the sink, spoke to the parents and had a long, quiet private sleep. It was amazing. And I didn't have to use my own towel and I could take a shower in the morning as well. Other than that, Limerick really had nothing to offer. I should listen to other people more.
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