Kinsale & Cork

Last weekend Jeremiah and I went to Kinsale and Cork, two of the most southern cities in Ireland.  On Friday we stayed in a hostel owned by a friendly older woman named Joy (?) or Julianne or J-something. Let’s call her J-dawg.  She liked us so much that she referred us to her friend’s hostel for Saturday night’s stay, and referred us as “the wonderful American couple,” which Jeremiah and I had a chuckle about.  We found an extremely small pub, Dalton’s, filled with about ten considerably older locals.  Everybody turned and stared at us when we walked in on Friday evening…are we that obnoxiously American? Jeremiah did say that my pea coat looks ridiculously American.

Me looking delighted to be awake at the hostel Saturday morning.

Kinsale has pretty views anywhere you stand around the harbor that leads into the Atlantic, so we spent most of the day Saturday climbing rocks and strolling along the path toward Charles Fort.  We loved Dino’s restaurant so much we went there twice that day, and I made sure to write in the guestbook on the counter “TWICE IN ONE DAY!!” We of course got fish and chips, as this was the town’s specialty.  I’m not a big fan of fish, but I forgot that pretty much anything fried tastes the same.

The pinnacle of small town cutesy. Dalton's, the pub we went to Friday night, is the red building.

One of the views from around the harbor in Kinsale.

My forehead snuck into the scenery. Look! I see the ocean!

Jerry-miah and I taking a break from the long walk.

On Saturday evening, we took an 8 pm siesta at the hostel, and almost ended up sleeping through the night as we were so tired from walking all day.  We jolted awake at 9:30 pm and finally got enough energy to go out to the hoppin’ pubs around town.  I’m glad we did because we found some great live music at a pub.  It was packed even though I thought the Irish would be wallowing in sadness after that day’s embarrassing loss to France in rugby.  The band was playing American classic rock, and I specifically remember a good rendition of “Ring of Fire” by J. Cash.

On Sunday, we ran into our friends from UL who were on the international society trip to Cork for the weekend.  I think we made the better choice though, as Kinsale was prettier than Cork and a better weekend destination.  Jeremiah and I tried to find the outdoor adventures building in Kinsale because we wanted to go sailing as it was very sunny and about 50 degrees, which felt fantastic.  Unfortunately, it was closed when we finally found it.  We found a fountain that splashed up foam on our walk…not sure if it usually has foam or if it was a sort of Valentine’s Day prank.

We got on the bus to Cork and walked for hours around to find somewhere that wasn’t McDonalds. (We each got double orders of chicken nugget 6-packs on Friday night for lack of a better dinner. And of course, an apple pie, which by the way tastes better in Ireland than in the States)  We finally settled on Captain America’s Bar and Grill by promising ourselves to ignore the cheesy name of the place.  I graciously let Jeremiah have the chair with the Valentine’s balloons on it because I know deep down he really wanted it.  They were playing VH1′s top Valentine’s Day hits, which I was pretty stoked about until someone changed the station to a rugby game.

Overall it was a relaxing weekend, and I’m glad we spontaneously decided to hop on a bus on Friday to Kinsale after our Dingle debacle. (Basically we accidentally chose the wrong date on the bus ticket to Dingle, and we couldn’t get it refunded. Travel mistake #2, after I lost my camera the other week.*) (*Don’t worry, someone recovered my camera for me a week later. Badda-bing badda-boom luck of the Irish)

On a completely unrelated note, I am trying to do some couch-surfing off a cool website where I get to stay at a local’s place and talk to them.  I booked a flight to London next weekend to see my friend from home Nate Louwagie and to see Hot Chip in Norwich, England where I’ll be couch surfing.

And, by the way, my Irish housemates think it is the funniest thing ever that I pronounce the word “fillet” like “fill-ay,” like I’m French or something.  Apparently it is pronounced like “fill-it” here. Surrrrreeee.

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