A Day at Blarney Castle

Yesterday, I visited Blarney Castle in Blarney, Co. Cork, Ireland.  With several new friends in the study abroad program, I took a bus from Cork to Blarney, trekked through the rain, and reached the famous tourist destination.  It was delightful trip and a wonderful way to start our semester. 

Blarney Castle

A Little History

Blarney Castle was built in 1446 by the McCarthys, the dynasty of Munster. Two structures preceded the current castle-a wooden one in the 10th century and a smaller stone castle built around 1210 AD.  Throughout its history, the castle changed hands many times.  In 1874, a beautiful house was built on the grounds.  

Today, Blarney has become tourist destination.  Visitors can climb the battlements, brave the dungeons, and explore the surrounding gardens. The most famous aspect of the castle is the Blarney Stone.  Vistors lean over the edge of the battlements while holding onto an iron rail to kiss the stone and gain the gift of eloquence.  

According to the most popular legend, the stone was a gift to Cormac McCarthy in 1314 for his support to Robert the Bruce in the Battle of Bannockburn.  Another legend suggests that the Goddess Clíodhna told McCarthy to kiss the first stone he found when he was troubled by a lawsuit.  After doing so, he was gifted with eloquence, won his trial, and brought the stone back to Blarney.  A third legend speaks of the Lia Fáil which was the stone upon which Irish Kings were crowned.

My Time in Blarney 

The Wishing Steps

I visited Blarney with several other students and we had a grand time exploring the castle and venturing around the grounds.  We went into every room of the castle, some of which were indistinguishable and several of which retained partial ornate carvings in the stone.  At the top, each of us kissed the Blarney Stone.  The act was not nearly so terrifying as it is made out to be.  In recent years, safety rails have been installed and a guard sits next to it, holding your waist as you bend backwards. On our way back down, climbing a narrow spiral staircase, we came across the Murder Hole.  A large hold just above the doorway to the keep, it served as a final line of defense against unwanted visitors or threatening enemies.  Hot wax, boiling water, or worse was poured through the hole on such guests. 

After we explored the castle, we wandered through the battlements and walked through the poison garden, just left of the keep.  It contains dozens of poisonous plants for the purpose of educating visitors about plants to avoid in the wild.  We walked deeper into the grounds to the nineteenth century house which was already closed to visitors for the day and then over to the Rock Close.  Within Rock Close, legends still exist in the form of the Wishing Steps, a stairway carved through a tunnel of rock, and the Witch's Kitchen, a cave which boasts the dying embers of the witch's fire each morning.  It's a beautiful area, covered in shade from ancient trees and surrounded by moss-covered boulders.

Exploring the castle was a pure joy and the excitement for my upcoming course in Irish Archaeology has only grown.  Throughout the next few weeks, I will be learning about Archaeology while visiting ancient Irish tombs and castles.  

Slán agus beannacht leat. (An Irish Farewell.)

Welcome to Cork

Four years of dreaming, two years of planning, one summer of waiting, and a couple days of slight panicking have brought me safe and sound to Ireland.

I left home Tuesday afternoon from Dulles International Airport on a flight to London.  After more than six hours of sitting in a cramped airplane seat next to a nice English couple who delighted in my request for tea over coffee and in front of a rather unhappy toddler, I arrived in the Heathrow Airport.  I followed the signs for connections, crossed the UK border check, and somehow made it the departure lounge where I waited for my flight to Cork.  Two hours later, I was buckling in for the second part of the journey. 

Only an hour passed before I was happily climbing down a flight of stairs and onto the runway.  In all my other plane travels, I have gone directly from the airport to the plane and vice versa.  There was a delightfully old-fashinoned joy to walking outside of the plane in the fresh Irish air with a distant view of green hilltops.

My room

The Kitchen and Living Room

It wasn't long before I had made it through customs, picked up my baggage, and was climbing into a taxi driven by a friendly and helpful Irishman.  He told me about festivals coming up in the fall and pubs and restaurants I should go to as we drove through Cork.  Between the exhaustion of jet-lag and my excitement at having made it to the city, I felt like I was on sensory overload.  I found myself caught between silence and prattling on as one moment I stared out the taxi window at the pubs and shops and the next I was being asked my studies, my travels, and my opinions of the US presidential candidates.

Twenty minutes later I stood with my luggage in front of my apartment gate.  I rang for the landlady and met Breda at long last.  Friendly and personable, she showed me upstairs to my room, gave me a key and some instructions, and then went off with a reminder to call or email if I needed anything.

Now, it's Thursday evening.  Shannon and I have spent a day exploring the city and the UCC campus.  Still slightly jet-lagged, we've retired to our apartment for dinner and a rest.  No doubt we will head out later to find a bustling Irish pub.