Cork: My Favorite City in Ireland

As it was the priority spot for both Richard and I—given we both have ancestors who at one time lived in Cork—Saturday morning we awoke quite early and caught the 8:35 bus to the city.

Overall, I’d say Cork was my favorite town—it had many of the advantages of Dublin and Limerick, without either city’s disadvantages. Situated in a valley, the view from the inside of the town lets you see many houses perched up and around the sides, and the main city center is laid out cleanly and compactly. To our pleasure, it was a good walking city.

Soon after arriving, we stopped at St. Finnbar’s Cathedral, which, of all the churches I’d been to in Ireland, takes the preverbal cake. An Anglican cathedral, it featured the most ornate carvings and paintings and most beautiful stained glass. Despite not being very old, it more than made up for it in beauty. Also interesting was the mostly below-ground organ.

After that we grabbed lunch and caught a bus to Blarney, which was just about 20 minutes outside Cork, as part of an effort to endow ourselves with the gift of gab. Blarney Castle, home of the famous Blarney Stone, sits in a large park area with windings streams and flowers and gardens surrounding it. The castle itself was one of the more interesting I’ve come upon: a large tower, mostly, with a few surrounding turrets. The line to kiss the stone and thus endow upon yourself, traditionally, with the gift of gab, extended out the base of the castle. As you progressed, you would your way up narrow stairs and past small windowed rooms. It made for a more interesting wait.

Both Richard and I kissed the stone. It didn’t taste particularly bad, and I didn’t feel like I knew it well enough to give it some tongue. The taste lingered in my mouth as we walked around the village of Blarney and took the bus back to Cork.

We then walked to the University College Cork campus, a series of Trinity-like Gothic buildings mixed in with the Limerick-like newer ones. There were also flowers and a gardens and plenty of Italians and Spaniards walking about. Coincidentally enough, a friend of ours studied at UCC and gave us some recommendations about places to visit. On his recommendation, we next attempted to find the Hi-B Bar, a local watering hole. It took us some time—we even stopped for ice cream at another place recommended to us by a neighbor on the Blarney bus—but eventually we found it. It was a small, out of the way awning; you had to go up a back flight of stairs that ended in a old wood door that concealed a small, bad smelling room with one bar.

Imagine our surprise upon, when ordering drinks, we heard someone say "Nebraska"—at least we thought. That inclination was ratified by "Mississippi" and "Omaha." We sat down with drinks in hand next to the table and asked if what we heard was true. Sure enough, one of the two couples—all in their early 30s, probably—said his sister was moving to Omaha. Amazing. We ended up talking to them for 2 hours, and didn't pay for drinks again. They were extremely nice and pleasant to talk to. Our friend's recommendation was spot on.

We got a quick bite to eat before catching the late train back to Limerick.

As a side note, my parents noticed an old bridge in Cork that they had realized would have been around when our ancestors lived in the city. I, too, found the bridge and walked across it. Hence the picture.