We headed east through the Cork and Kerry mountains from Killarney. No wonder they call this the Emerald Isle. Everything is so lush and overgrown with so many bright shades of green. It is a feast for our eyes.
Everyone was in a great mood with lots of chatter and laughter. Robyn leaned over to me and said, "It's amazing what a clean bra and knickers will do for your mood."
The mountains turned barren and rock strewn, then back to lush and patchwork with pine forests and then it would do the same all over again. County Cork is Ireland's bread basket and the heart of farming with rich fertile soil. We saw many cows and sheep, but also farmers plowing fields and increasing herds of beautiful horses.
We stopped at Blarney Castle which has 200 acres of gardens, woods and lakes. The grounds were gorgeous with lovely paths to walk and we were there before the crowds. We walked up to the castle and I went up a little way to see it, but it was a little claustrophobic feeling for me. Here is Robin & Anthony climbing to kiss the stone.
Bob went on up and I walked the peaceful grounds past beautiful flowers, ferns, and huge old trees, all by myself. Heaven! I went back to the castle to meet Bob as he came back down. He bypassed kissing the stone as he heard it was slimy. Many did and got the pictures to prove it. Others said they were full of enough Blarney already.
Blarney is a suburb to the town of Cork which is a big hilly city with old stone walls. They claim Henry Ford as their own as his family had lived there before immigrating to the United States. It is one of the world's best natural harbors. There were beautiful water front parts to the city and quaint connected shops, but also some abandoned places and seedy areas. Henry said many immigrants left from this port and he explained what an Immigrant Wake was. It was an all night party as a person prepared to leave their family and beloved country that they would never see again. Sad thoughts. I can't imagine.
We stopped in Youghal which sounds like "you all." Some of Moby Dick was filmed here and they used the local weather beaten fishermen as extras. It had quaint narrow streets, shops, and narrow gardens on the sparkling waterfront. The wind was blowing, waves rolling and small boats bobbing. It made me homesick.
On we went into Tramore, which is a resort town on the coast with sandy beaches. There were Palm Trees and flowers all around our hotel and several of us had balconies and were all out laughing and enjoying the view. We could have been in Florida.
We had a short time to freshen up and took a side trip to Dunmore on the other side of the bay. We heard some history, saw some thatch roofed houses and stopped in a very old thatched roofed pub. Our local guide pulled out his guitar and sang with a rich tenor voice. Henry helped to serve Guiness and a milder Beamish and we listened to sweet ballads that made us misty and then there were hand clapping sing alongs. The guide must have noticed me enjoying the music as he asked my name and dedicated "Whiskey in the Jar" to me. I was quite flattered. After his teary version of Danny Boy (the ladies were all wiping their eyes), we loaded up to head back to the hotel for dinner. Bob ran in for a quick comfort break and as he was coming out, he took a wrong turn going straight into the Ladies room where Joan was washing her hands. They both wished they could have recorded the surprised look on their faces.They both came out laughing hard. He's getting quite a reputation!
We ate, sorted pictures and crashed. I wanted to walk the shore, but my body had had enough. Bob's comment as he was staring off into space, "Whew. This tour isn't for weenies!"
