Sunday, September 3, 2017
UK TRAVELS CHAPTER 14
Another typical day on the bus. Death defying as we inch past a truck coming from the opposite direction and holding our breath. I really think that giant inhale helped. Though by now the "sportier" of our crowd would place bets on how close we would actually come to the opposing force. Inches is an accurate description of the distance between. The design of the bus places the rear view mirrors tucked into the front of the "coach" or collisions would be an ongoing event. Though nothing protects from the wild and free hedgerows and tree branches that kiss the windows as we traverse the narrow roads.
Today we will be visiting Blarney Castle. Again I quote the tour guide "home of the famous stone of eloquence, once kissed, never forgotten!" Bleeahhh. Where's the Simple Green between, ahem, kisses. Anyway, Blarney Castle, Blarney Stone not what you think and scarier than what I thought. A long walk through the city of Blarney, past the souvenir shops, up some hills, across acres of gardens and then....your amorous date with the cold, cold stone. But first one warms up with a 1,000 (well maybe 100) step twisting turning, claustrophobic producing climb up the fateful tower. Again, this is not Disneyland, no elevators, escalators or timid, out-of-shape visitors accommodated. As we slowwwllllyyy climbed it struck me that the original owners were not only shorter than we are, but obviously had much smaller feet. Though I definitely see the defensive advantage. Try climbing these nasty twisting and ever skinnier steps in a full suit of armor brandishing a sword. In very short order, your brandishing becomes a crutch that is constantly getting caught and defenders are taking pokes at you as you reach each unexpected wide spot.
It was the occasional wider spots on the climb that kept my claustrophobia at bay. I felt I could take a big breath or even step out if I needed a break. However once you start up these stairs, there is no turning back as the mass of humanity behind you effectively covers any hope of escape. One very narrow staircase that becomes narrower the higher you climb. Yay, daylight in sight. A short walk along the parapet and there it is, cue music. A line of people whose upper body briefly disappears as they hang over the 100 foot drop to buss a rock! Very much an assembly line operation. One guy holds you, another guy stands by I guess to count the bodies that drop or clean the rock, not sure which; and a third snaps a picture. Very efficient. However I brought my own photographer as no way in Hades was he going to drop and hang for a silly rock. He got some nice pictures of the countryside as well as there was much more time after the "event" to snap some shots. Your time on your back is short and sweet, well relatively speaking.
Anyway, the stone is flat and laid right into the wall with the rest of its fellow rocks. Somehow I thought the sucker would be rounded and easy to embrace. Wrong. I gripped the metal bars conveniently available until my knuckles were white, bent as far back as I could go and gave it a shot. Did I actually contact that nasty rock with my lips? Well you'll never know. Here's the thing though. How do I know that's the "real" rock brought back from the Crusades in Jerusalem? On the word of the guy who was my last hope of survival gripping my midsection and saying that's the one. Oh well. Also being of the shorter perspective, My body was pretty much halfway out over that drop. (see picture) Taller people definitely have the advantage.
Somehow the trip back down the tower was quicker than the climb up; always quicker coming back once you know the way. First stop - restroom, for obvious reasons. Side note: the restrooms over there were very clean and they use the air dryers so no nasty used paper all over the place and no graffiti. We could learn a little from our friends across the pond about neatness. Karen, the Australian lady who accompanied us up the tower and subsequent embrace, and I congratulated each other and felt that giddiness one experiences after doing something that was incredibly scary, yet incredibly silly. I was actually light-headed going back down the stairs!
After lunch and the proverbial stop at the Blarney Castle gift shop we headed to Waterford. The home of the most beautiful crystal. However, they no longer make it there but keep a small production area for the tourists and a shop filled with their classic glass. As we perused the display area after the tour I realized that no one from our tour group was there. We hurried out to the bus to experience that "everyone staring at us in silence routine "as we were the last to return-Drat! But why the heck do we visit such a beautiful crystal outlet and not get to shop? Our hotel was literally a couple of miles away and we had a two hour break before dinner. Bad planning. However Burt had come down with a head cold, so we scurried out after check-in to find a "Chemist". It is still mind-boggling to us when they give directions like, "take a right by the Norman tower by the river". Well it is literally hard to miss. Don't know what they gave him for a decongestant but it was cheap and literally worked in "hours". No more head cold. Hmmm. Also their aspirin has to be dissolved in water but it has a delightful lemony taste.
As we leave Ireland tomorrow, one last giggle.
An Irishman was heading to Spain for vacation. His friends suggested he speak very slowly when trying to communicate to be understood. After a hot dusty trip into town, he visited a pub for some much-needed Sangria. He very slowly asked, "Could...I...have....some...Sangria?" and hoped for the best. The bartender said "Do....you....want....a....large.....glass?" The Irishman slapped his head and said "you're Irish too?" "Aye" was the reply. "Then why are we speaking Spanish?" (Think about it)
Final days on the trip in the next and last chapter. To Be Continued
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