Cork - the Blarney Stone
The next day, we were again in Ireland, in Cork, where we would take a bus to the Blarney Castle, presumably to see the Blarney Stone. First, the bus took us to a little shopping center about a 2 mile hike from the Blarney Castle. This was where the bus would be parked.
Each of us was given a coupon to take to the pub and get a free Irish coffee. So I got into line, and somehow lost Hubby. Probably, he went to find a bathroom, or to take some pictures. So I got an Irish coffee for each of us and sat down at a table in the courtyard for him to find me. I didn't like the Irish coffee. All I tasted was very hot coffee. Whenever I drink coffee (hardly ever), I like it with lots of cream and sugar, to tone that coffee taste down. Eventually, Hubby found me, and tried his own cup. I don't know if he liked it or not; he usually drinks his coffee black and strong, so maybe he did.
We were supposed to meet the tour guide in the middle of the shopping mall in about half an hour, so she could get us all through the castle gate as a group. I was worried about missing her, but found some other members of our group, so my nerves settled down. But where was my hubby? He finally reappeared out of a store, having bought a bottle of coffee beans and 1 bottle of mead to thank the neighbor for watching our house while we were gone. Somehow, I wound up with that sack to carry during the hike to and from the castle, so that he could take pictures.
So we were
forced marched guided to the castle gateway, where the staff counted us
in order to let us in. Once we were inside the grounds, the tour guide said we
had 1 hour to walk the rest of the way to the castle and get back to the bus.
We were turned loose. Hubby—and most everybody else in the group—soon left me
in the dust as they hurried towards the castle. I traveled at my own speed and
enjoyed the walk.
When I finally got up the hill to the castle, there was a line snaking out the castle door and around the courtyard. The people were there to climb a steep set of stairs up to the top of the castle, where the Blarney Stone was located. We could see it from the outside, but of course, you had to be on the top of the castle to have any hope of touching it. And the markers indicated that the line was an hour long. We only had about 45 minutes left to get back to bus.
We had our picture taken in front of the castle, but didn't get in line. Instead, we wandered off to view the 'Poison Garden'. John was snapping pictures like crazy. It wasn't long before I told him, "Well, I have to start back, because I move slower than you do." So I left, and hoped he kept an eye on his watch.
When I got back to the parking lot, all the several tour buses had rearranged themselves. I checked in with the tour guide, and then started down the line of buses, looking for #17, for that was my group. It was the next-to-the-last bus, of course. I found our seats, and then started worrying about John getting back in time. He wasn't the last member of the group to get back, and then we had an uneventful bus trip back to the ship.
I wouldn't mind going back again, perhaps not on a shore excursion, to spend a night or two at the local tavern and do a long walk around the castle, perhaps even check out the stores in that little shopping center.
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