Our one port in Ireland was Cobh, located on the southwest coast in County Cork. Cobh, pronounced cove, changed its name to Queenstown in 1849 in honor of a visit to the town by Queen Victoria. It retained that name until Ireland got its independence, at which point the townspeople felt it was inappropriate to keep the name in honor of an English monarch when they now had their independence and opted to change the name back to Cobh. Probably what most people will remember about the town is that it was the port of call for the Titanic before setting sail to America in April of 1912. It is also near the site of the sinking of the Lusitania. After it was sunk by the Germans, victims and bodies were brought to Queenstown. Queenstown is also the home of Annie Moore, who was the very first immigrant to be processed through Ellis Island; a statue near the port recognizes her.
Our shore excursion today took us to the village of Kinsale. We opted not to go to Blarney and kiss the stone. Somehow the idea of kissing a stone that millions of others had also kissed did not appeal to me, and I wasn’t fond of the idea of climbing the stairs in the castle only to manage to get down on the ground, turn myself upside down and kiss a stone. People who know me know that I already have the gift of gab, so I don’t need to be filled with Blarney! However, I got a kick out of our guide’s story about the Blarney Stone being associated with the McCarthy family! One of my students would really love to hear that story, I’m sure, considering the fact that she is a McCarthy!
The countryside we drove through was lush and green, and even though the skies were predominately gray, we enjoyed the scenery. Our guide explained that the area is known for its farming – both crops and dairy. This explained the huge number of cows we saw dotting landscape. Barley is a major crop, and apparently, so is grass. She told of a tour she had taken with French farmers who were absolutely fascinated by all the crops of grass they saw. And of course it lends itself to the name of Emerald Isle. The green carpets we saw were amazingly vivid!
We made a photo stop at Fort Charles, named for Charles II. This overlooked the town of Kinsale so we had a wonderful view of the town. Once we arrived in Kinsale, we were given nearly two hours of free time to roam around and do what we pleased. We opted to stick with the guide for the first 15 minutes or so, and she pointed things out that we may otherwise have missed. There were very interesting little shops and restaurants – one named the Milk Market Cafe, another named Mother Hubbard’s (complete with a painting of Mother Hubbard and her pooch, waiting expectantly for a bone), and a third named the White House. Our guide explained that the White House was named for the White Lady, which was a locally popular ghost story. (More on that later.) We also found a little purple cottage dubbed The Giant’s House. Apparently the man who lived there in the 18th Century was over 7 feet tall and ended up as a side show attraction in a circus.
Chuck and I split up and wandered around on our own. I was interested in seeing the colorful shop fronts, and I got a few pictures of dogs whose masters had left them standing or sitting at the doors to the shops – a common sight in the towns of Europe. Somehow I can’t imagine Molly waiting patiently at the door for me!
Another point of interest was a row of houses up the side of a hill. They were side-by-side up a narrow staircase, each a different color, and each just a few feet higher than the one next to it. It almost looked like if the top one went over, it would end up looking like the proverbial house of cards – all would tumble down the side of the hill.
I took the opportunity to stop at a local hotel and have a scone. It wasn’t Tu Hwnt I’r Bont in Llanrwst, Wales, but it was good. I joined a lady from the ship whom I’d met on the shore excursion to Mont St. Michel the other day, and we had a pleasant talk. She’s originally from the Midlands, England, but she now lives in Guelph, Ontario. She had gone to University in North Wales, so we enjoyed talking about places we knew in that area. Regarding the scone, I do have to say that it appears that the Irish give you a choice of cream or jam. The English and Welsh give you both cream and jam. I like that better – the scone I had today seemed to be missing something, but the service was fast so I can’t complain.
As we headed back toward Cobh, our guide continued sharing interesting information. She told us the story of the White Lady. This young woman, the daughter of a colonel who had been stationed at Fort Charles, married an officer stationed at the fort. On their wedding night, they took a walk and she noticed some beautiful flowers. She asked her new husband if he’d pick some for her, and of course he agreed. She went home to get ready for bed, and he found a sentry and asked him to pick the flowers. He sat down at the sentry’s watch and promptly fell asleep. The colonel (father of the bride) was making rounds to make sure the fort was secure and discovered the so-called sentry asleep and shot him for dereliction of duty. That was when he discovered that he’d shot his new son-in-law, as the sentry returned with the flowers and explained what had happened. The colonel went to his daughter and told her the story. Utterly distraught, the daughter flung herself off the cliff to her death, and she continues to haunt the slopes beneath Fort Charles and the village of Kinsale, either in search of the flowers or her new husband.
Our guide took a long time to discuss the difference between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland, which of course is part of the UK. The flag of the Republic of Ireland was modeled after the French flag. The green stands for the Catholic heritage (St. Patrick, shamrock). The orange stands for the Protestant heritage (William of Orange), and the white stands for peace and unity. Northern Ireland continues to have problems between the two religions, but her comment was that she never dreamed that they would have the peace they do today. She said it’s much better than it was when she was growing up. There’s still a lot of dissent, but people are at least civil now.
Another interesting thing she said was one we’d never heard before. She explained the theory of why they drive on the left here. It comes from the Middle Ages when knights would want to stay on the left of approaching horsemen in case there was trouble. They would be able to draw their swords and protect themselves much better if their right hands were in the middle of the road. We both thought that was a very interesting theory, and does make sense. But we’re confused: why wouldn’t the rest of Europe react the same way?
We were glad that our tour had started out early because it got us back early, allowing us time to get a few things done before enjoying an Irish dance performance by a local group who had been brought onto the ship to entertain us. It brought back a lot of memories – particularly of St. Patrick’s Day at school. My last few years of teaching, one of the young teachers who taught right across the hall from me was also an Irish dancer and gave lessons in Irish dance. Every St. Patrick’s Day, we would begin the day with a short assembly. She would dance for us, and some of her students would also. She put out a “call” to other students who had done Irish dancing, and quite a number of students very willingly performed for the school. It made the day special, and they did a beautiful job. I know this is a digression, but I marveled at what a great job Megan had done in teaching the students – they could have easily kept up with these local Irish girls! The show was a great way to end our short stay in Ireland.
Right after the local show, we listened to Travel Guide Barbara tell about things to do in Portree (on the Isle of Skye in Scotland that we will visit in a few days). We have been there three times now, but we’re always interested in someone else’s take on places. And we’ve gotten to know Barbara better because she’s dined with us a few times. We always enjoy her talks, and we look forward to having her join us on occasion for dinner.
Barb
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