Thursday, November 1 – Kinsale, Ireland

Little more than 12 hours has elapsed since I last wrote, but so much has happened, rather so many indescribable things have happened, that I fear I won’t be able to capture the true essence of my day. Still, I’ll give it a go.

Not long after wrapping up last time, my Ryanair experience began. Aside from having no seat assignments, the experience was much like flying in Mexico. About 15 minutes before departure they call everyone up, everyone rushes to get in line, everyone boards via stairs on the tarmac, 5 minutes before departure we push back, and we take off 2 minutes early. Get the theme? No bullshit. So, it can be done, and it can be done for insanely, ridiculously, stupidly cheap. Ryanair has some other interesting qualities. Namely, its employees look like they are straight out of Brave New World. I don’t think I saw a single female flight attendant less than 5’11” and less than striking. They all had their hair pulled back in a tight, neat bun. All the male employees, though generally not as striking, had their hair slicked back in a fashion matching that of the females. Also, they all had this very self-satisfied look about them, like they just came from an insane, all-night orgy, and the only reason you were scheduled to take off so early is because they knew they would be done in the early morning. Anyway, the flight was awesome. I got some rest, and we arrived in Cork almost 20 minutes early. Pretty good for a 70 minute flight. Immigration was uneventful except for when a little girl in the EU line wanted her passport stamped rather than being waved through. The gesture of the immigrations officer embodies the typical Irish way, as I’ve witnessed so far. He quickly got up, ran over to the non-EU counter, stamped her passport and brought it back; all this while 70 people are waiting in line behind the little girl. Now that’s hospitality.

Picking up the rental car was, thankfully, not a problem. The gentleman was very nice, except for when he gave me a Fiat Panda “graduate” edition. This car is hilarious in every sense of the word. It looks like one of those stupid mini European deliver vans, only even tinier. Whatever, when will I get a chance to drive a Fiat again? Probably never. It has some pretty cool features actually. The angle of the headlights is adjustable…still haven’t quite mastered that one. The steering has a city mode in which the feel becomes significantly lighter than its already too-feathery feel. The radio is worse than one of those aftermarket ones, which doesn’t have an off button. This one turns itself on everytime you start the car. So, I was serenaded by a butchered Irish version of “Tears in Heaven” with the original vocals by Eric Clapton, but a new background track that, I think, included the bagpipes. Anyway, it is the perfect tourist car, especially because it is practically neon blue. I stand out like a sore thumb. It is straight out of National Lampoon’s or something.

Driving itself has been noneventful. I was in such a haze for the drive from the airport to Kinsale that it wasn’t even that weird to drive on the left side. Every so often I have to remind myself, but no close calls yet. The worst part is probably shifting with my left hand, especially with the crappy fiat shifter feel and with the shifter mounted on the console. No double clutch downshifts on the Panda. I am really glad I have a car because I’ve seen and done more today than would have been otherwise possible. Also, I wouldn’t be able to stay at the Walunga Inn without it.

Since I was so tired, I opted to bypass Cork and head straight to Kinsale. I’m sure I’m missing out, but I certainly don’t feel like it. I was going to arrive a bit too early at the B&B, so I did some driving around and went into Kinsale and parked. Now would probably be a good time to interrupt for the obligatory:

Ireland is insanely beautiful…no…magical. I mean, it is up there with Baja and the Rockies and the most beautiful places on earth. It is like Williamstown on steroids, then throw in the ocean. That’s absurd. There are lush, green, rolling hills. It is ALL lush, green, rolling hills. There are no fences, but there are these mounds of earth that have grown over into natural fences. There are goats and sheep and cows and birds. There are goats on tiny islands. How did they get there? I don’t care. I just know it makes me want to explode. I wish I could capture the beauty in words, but I simply cannot. I’m certainly not a good enough photographer to do it. Just imagine if it looked like a national geographic shot wherever you looked. Country vistas, the ocean, even the city streets. Point is…it is stunning.

Back to the action: While walking around in Kinsale in the early morning, I stopped and bought an apricot-almond croissant, which was absurdly good. I walked around and watched the town wake up before proceeding onto the Walyunga bed and breakfast. Also, I saw some interesting signs, and there is apparently some disagreement about christmas here. Interestingly, there are road signs that point to all of the bed and breakfasts around here, so I had no trouble finding it. I was welcomed by Myrtle, shown my nice little room (no attached bathroom), and introduced to the other guests at breakfast as well as John, the other host. The folks at breakfast were from Ohio. One saw the road rash on my arm and asked, “So, you must be a cyclist?” I couldn’t believe it…I had no idea how he knew. We chatted a bit. The Walyunga house is you standard grandmother’s house. I retreated to my room to take a brief nap. I slept for only about half an hour before I woke up. And so…after a week of rest (except for a women’s basketball practice), I decided it was time for a run. I ran for about 45 minutes and felt like I was going to explode without my camera the whole time. Every five steps was something else equally beautiful and out of a fairy tale. Thankfully my back injury did not act up, and I suffered no other major injuries. I stretched in the beautiful yard and garden of the Walyunga. I took a much-needed shower, though it appears that the Irish have also diverted all water pressure from showers to their supremely inefficient toilets. I washed some clothing and hung it out to dry on the, oh-so-quaint, clothesline.

Finally, I was ready to head back into town. I stopped at the ATM where my card worked like a charm and went off in search of lunch. After wandering around for a bit and meeting a 40 minute wait at Rick Steves’ highest recommendation, I went into the Cucina Café. The Cucina is run by several very beautiful, blonde women of varying ages and statures. One thing is certain, though: they take their food and service extremely seriously. I sat at the bar, had a wonderful broccoli soup to start, a special with sausage, red onion compote, spinach salad, and a potato salad, and indulged in the best apple pie I’ve ever had. While eating my apple pie, I inadvertently breathed hard through my nose and dusted the poor girl next to me with the powdered sugar on my plate. After that, we spoke for a while. She was journaling about her day working in the bakery in Kinsale. She lives in Cork, is an artist, and is working her way into the culinary world. It was nice to have a bit of conversation.

After lunch, I bought some batteries at the grocery…yes, my headlamp finally had the warning LED come on after years and years. Next, I drove over to Charles Fort, stopping along the way at the scenic vistas (though the Fort itself proved to be the most scenic). The Fort was one of the first “star-shaped” forts constructed. It was built by the British to defend the bay from intruders. Standing up there at dusk was incredible. The pictures might begin to speak to its magic, but won’t actually touch it. I was so glad I was here by myself to truly meditate on its beauty. Watching the boats sailing in the bay below made me reminiscent about NOLS, though I felt that way the instant I saw the ocean here.

After the fort, I went back into town and paid to use the internet for an hour. That is how I got the previous two entries up. It was too early for dinner, given my late lunch, and I felt like I needed to get all of this information down. So, I walked down to the harbor, sat down, and discovered that I could have gotten free wireless internet in this far superior location all along. Who knows what tonight’s dinner will bring? I’m a bit sad that I’m headed to Kenmare tomorrow, but I am sure that the sights will be equally sweet there too. I apologize for the EXTREMELY long entry. Much love to all who read this.