Medieval Castles, King Puck, Kittens, Otherwise Known as My Weekend in Kilkenny and on the Ring of Kerry

Kilkenny

So like I said in my last post, I went to Kilkenny on Sunday. I had to get up early to catch the one bus that went into town before 9:30, in order to catch my 9:10 train. After I woke up and got ready, I said goodbye to Kari and Megan, and I nearly cried while walking to the bus stop. I took the 13 bus and got into town. After grabbing some McDonalds (literally the only thing open on O'Connell Street), I went to Heuston Station to catch my train. The train ride was about an hour and a half; I had no idea that Kilkenny was that far from Dublin. It always seemed close on a map and in my head.

Anyways, I got off the train at 10:30 and just started wandering. Kilkenny is a very small place, so almost instinctively, you go towards the centre of town. I hit the main bridge over the River Nore and found a walking path. Having no idea what else to do, I followed it. I led me along the river quite a ways, and probably after 2 miles or so, there was an old checkpoint house, and the paved road turned to gravel. This gravel path eventually turned to quite a bit of mud. My Chucks got very dirty. I walked past large, beautiful fields and through a small forest. This seemed, to me, to be the real Ireland. I eventually hit private farms and decided to turn back.

Once I got back, I made my way up to Kilkenny Castle. Since I had to pay money, I decided against going in the castle and instead opted for sitting on the grounds and reading The Glass Room, the book that I just started by Simon Mawer. It's quite good, about a couple Viktor, a Jew, and Liesel, a gentile, who got married in the 1920s, built an über modern house in the Czech Republic. It then follows there relationship through World War II and stuff, but I am only up to the Anschluss. Anyways, while I was sitting in Kilkenny Castle Park, a blonde girl approached me. I had noticed her when I got off the train. She was alone with a backpack and wearing a GPS around her neck. I saw her again when I was walking back from my trail-walking adventure. "This is the third time I saw you, so I decided I had to talk with you," she said. Her English was heavily accented but clear and practiced. I found out that her name is Daniela, she is German and living in Dublin. She works at an insurance firm down in Blackrock and had been geo-caching in Kilkenny. We talked for a little while and decided to wander to a pub for lunch. We eventually found a small pub off the beaten path and went inside. They had a very extensive menu, even offering beef curry. I had a perfectly mediocre hamburger and a pint of Smithwicks, and I was quite a happy camper. 

After the pub, we worked our way slowly back to the train station, but it started downpouring, so we went to a different pub for a pint and to wait until the rain blew over. It was still raining when we left, but we needed to make the 3:50 train back to Dublin, so we scurried over to the station. We made it with plenty of time, and we got back to Dublin around 5:30. After returning, I went to Tesco to finally restock my very empty fridge. Now it's full of salmon, lettuce, fruit, and all sorts of other goodness. That night I made myself dinner and retired early for my Ring of Kerry day tour the next morning.

The Ring of Kerry

I had to wake up at 5:15, because the taxi was coming at 5:45. Since it was a bank holiday, the buses didn't start running until 9 or 9:30. So I had to call a cab, something I hate doing. I made it to O'Connell Street by 6, 25 minutes before I had to grab the Paddy Wagon bus outside the O'Connell St Tourism Office. I grabbed McDonalds for breakfast and then went to the wrong tourism office and really only made it to the bus by shear luck. 

Then the 3 and a half hour drive to Killarney began. Luckily the bus had WiFi. However,I had limited iPhone battery, and nothing was going on on Facebook at 2AM EST on a Monday morning anyway. So I passed out for 15-20 minute intervals before the bus bouncing jarred me awake. After 2 and a half hours, we met up with other Paddywagon buses in Adare, a very tiny town. Most of the houses had thatched roofs, whether or not that is for the tourists' benefit, I am not sure. After a little while, we split up, and a different bus took me to Killarney. 

In Killarney, we were given 30 minutes to wander before we had to be back on the bus to start the tour. I walked through central Killarney to see an adorable town. It is completely surrounded by mountains, all the buildings are painted in bright colours, and the streets are very tidy. I found a Gloria Jean's coffee shop and grabbed a small sandwich and some tea before the bus set off. 

We started the journey with Paul O'Hays crazy stories (apparently he was mugged by "the nicest muggers" in Philly) and by going through Killorglin. However, before we hit the small town outside Killarney, we stopped the bus at a large mountain goat tied up in a small pen on the side of the road. "This goat was the King of Kerry six years ago! Isn't he a fine goat?" Paul O'Hay, my chatty tour guide explained. I figured he would be like, "you actually believed that?!" after we all got out and took pictures, but I did it anyway. However, afterward, he explained the story. When Oliver Cromwell was going through Munster killing quite literally every Irish person he could find, the town of Killorglin got lucky. After Cromwell murdered the entirety of Kenmare, him and his army started to make its way through the mountains towards Killorglin. They got held up by some mountain goats. Now, a sidenote, mountain goats are quite special in Celtic paganism, I think Paul O'Hay said that they were the symbol of fertility or something. In addition, it quite rare to see one in the mountains, let alone a whole herd. And unheard of to see a whole herd running through a town. So when the people of Killorglin saw this herd of mountain goats running along the main street of town, they knew something was up, so they all ran to hide in the mountains, and the entire village was spared. Therefore, every year, they bring a mountain goat down from the mountains, treat it like a king, and then crown it the King of Kerry. The goat is always known as King Puck. Then they let it go up in the mountains. Meanwhile, all the residents of Killorglin are getting rip-roaring drunk for three days straight. Lucky for me, the festival is this weekend. I know what I am going to be doing. All hail King Puck!

Anyways, our adventure continued after that, we stopped at various points along the ring. All of them were stunningly beautiful. You can't say a bad word about the Ring of Kerry, you really can't. At around 2PM, Paul O'Hay declared it "beer o'clock," and we grabbed lunch at this small thatched-house restaurant. I got a really good Irish stew and Guinness, mostly because Paul O'Hay told me to. By the time lunch rolled around, I had made friends with a South African guy on the bus. His name is Arlen, and he is quite an interesting dude. He grew up in South Africa, graduated the equivalent of a two year college at 17 and then moved to the Netherlands to join the Netherlands Royal Navy. He is currently studying at the naval academy to become an engineer of sorts. Leave it to me to befriend all the engineers without intending to. 

All the cute.

After lunch, we worked our way to a really pretty part of the ring just outside the touristy Waterville called Baslickane. In the pull-off that we stopped at, there was a guy with two sheep, a red deer, a puppy, and three adorable kittens. Needless to say, I freaked out. Arlen made fun of me and told me that I am going become a crazy cat lady. Didn't take long for him to realize that one... After I held a kitten for a while (and awed at its little mews and paws), Arlen and I took in the sites and discussed politics. He didn't know too much about American politics, but he did remark that our gun laws are silly and I agreed. He was one of the long list of non-Americans that I have talked to who doesn't understand why we don't have very good gun control in America. My response usually is don't get me started, but then I end up ranting anyways. Good times. 

Sneem

After the stop with the kittens, we made our way along the ring further. Stopped in a small, cute town called Sneem briefly before making our way to Lady's View and the Torc Waterfall. Both of which were quite beautiful. Afterwards, we went back to Killarney. We had a half an hour, so Arlen and I grabbed a pint at a pub in the town centre. He asked me about America. Mostly whether or not we always have red cups and play beer bong at parties. He also asked whether or not college was like American Pie. After the pub, we made our way back to the International Hotel to take the Paddywagon back to Dublin. 

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So that's what's been going on. The apartment is pretty lonely without my housemates. I wonder whether or not this is what real life is like, just going to work, coming home, making dinner, vegging out, going to bed, and doing it all over again. I guess that can be your life if you make it that way. But anyways, work has been work. I have recently become an Olympics junkie. I was quite upset today when Eurovision messed up and didn't broadcast Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh playing China. They won, but it was quite tight. I wish I could have seen it live. Anyways, that's my life right now. Pretty excited to see the new King Puck be crowned King of Kerry this weekend. That should be quite the trip.