Sandy and I dragged ourselves out of our cushy beds and packed up for our 6am taxi, taking us to Heuston Rail station. We were meeting our Railtours group to start our six-day tour of Ireland. I admit, it was hard to leave the nice confines of our castle hotel. It's been a dream of mine to stay in a castle so I was excited we were able to do so even if it didn't have a turret. Since a castle in my mind has a turret and I've always wanted to sleep in a turret room, I will keep this item on my life's scavenger hunt list for my next castle hotel opportunity.
It was a beautifully clear, crisp day to be up so early, with the sun just beginning to illuminate the sky, waking Dublin's inhabitants. We found our railtours guides dressed in bright, yellow jackets and proceeded to check in, receiving our trip's itinerary, hotel vouchers, and train tickets. We felt like little ducklings following their mom as we followed the yellow-jacketed tour guides two by two to our reserved car on the train as if we were participating in the buddy-system.
The interesting thing about the buddy system is it's supposed to help you not get lost, but it does nothing if your tour guides forget you. This was our observation as the landscape zipping by changed from buildings to rolling, green hills, with more dots of sheep. The yellow-jacketed tour guides were walking up and down the train car aisles talking with the other tour group members when one of them approached us, clipboard in hand.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"We're on the six-day Ireland adventure tour," Sandy replied.
"Yes, but where are you going today?", the tour guide persisted.
Perplexed, Sandy and I looked at each other. Shouldn't they know where we're going?
I reached into my coat of many pockets and grabbed our yellow tour packet. "Well, let me check the itinerary you gave me this morning. We're going to Cork."
We were told we would be with the other tour guide. He wrote something on his clipboard and asked the same question to another tour participant. Apparently there were multiple railtour groups travelling together.
A few minutes later, the other tour guide approached us, making us think she was going to welcome us to her tour group. Instead we were asked, "Where are you going?"
Sandy and I looked at each other, our thoughts in unison. Are you serious? The other tour guide just asked us that question. Instead of dividing the group in two and just asking one side the question and conferring with each other afterwards, you're both asking everyone the same question twice which is setting an ominous tone for our six day adventure.
Confidently I said as I gave her our itinerary, "We're going to Cork." Satisfied, she told us we were in her group, giving us further instructions. She wrote something on her clip board and proceeded to ask the same question to another tour participant.
Sandy and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows and open mouths that began to laugh. Both of us being organizational queens, we concocted many more efficient ways they could have handled this situation to make life easier for them and to not instill fear in their tour participants, all ideas involving the use of color coding and funny hats.
Our attention was diverted when the trolley came through our aisle with goodies and the most important item we were interested in - coffee. An older gentleman approached the trolley, asking for two coffees, noticeably American by his Midwestern accent and red Ohio Buckeyes sweatshirt. When the trolley attendant missed what he asked for, he began repeating himself slower and louder. Sandy and I cringed. We are in an English-speaking country. The trolley attendant did speak English and wasn't deaf.
This interaction characterized the rest of our day as our tour group consisted of mostly older, Midwest, down-to-earth, flag in their yard Americans that fit the American stereotype perfectly. They were dear, sweet people that would do anything for you, but it wasn't the interaction we were looking for. The shoe fit too well. We wanted to embrace Ireland not our country people. It was as if we never left home and were celebrating St. Patty's Day at a relative's house while keeping an eye on that one eccentric relative roaming about that's known to get themselves into embarrassing situations.
The train was preparing to make a stop at a station when we heard our tour guide talk to a couple sitting in front of us. Apparently they were part of a day tour that had joined us for this part of the journey and were seeing another part of the country. She told them this was their stop and their connecting train was just across the way, pointing at it through the window. The couple looked at each other and then her with semi-horror.
When you join a tour, it's a common expectation to assume your tour guide will accompany you on all parts of your journey. Normally, that's why people book tours, so they have a guide with them. This couple didn't know the tour guide would not be doing this. We didn't know that was an option either. Like little birds preparing for their first flight out of the nest, they left the train with the directional nudgings of the tour guide booting them out. Sandy and I looked at each other and both said, "We'll need to keep an eye on this one."
We arrived in Cork and took a bus to our first stop - Blarney Castle. This castle contains the Blarney Stone which if kissed is supposed to give you the gift of gab. The rugged stone structure of the castle protruding from the rolling green hills, meandering brook, and surrounding flower beds with a hint of rain in the air was welcomed after much travel. It was fun to overhear the comments of passerbyers mentally preparing to walk the 120 steep, narrow, spiral tower steps to the stone. People were much shorter with smaller sized feet than today so it was an effort to go up.The stairways were purposefully designed to be narrow and spiral to the right as a defense because the warriors were right-handed. When they went to use their sword, it would hit the wall making it hard to fight and get up the stairs. (I would have been their secret weapon being I'm left-handed.) The castle warriors coming down the stairs would have a much easier time using their swords on the attackers as the staircase would flow in the direction of their sword.
Making our way to the top, we were greeted with gusts of wind, a beautiful view, and a wee line to kiss the stone. It's interesting the power a stone placed in an awkward position with a promise of a gift brings grown people up amazing heights and down to their knees. Millions of people have knelt and kissed this stone, high-powered officials, presidents, leaders, young and old alike. I watched tough-looking bikers dressed in leathers and elderly ladies kneel before it. If I kissed the stone, it would be like I kissed each of these people including everyone on our tour bus which wasn't a pretty picture. Besides, there's still the legend out there that locals pee on the stone which I wasn't able to have confirmed or denied.
Mental images flashed through my mind as I pondered this. I opted to not kiss the stone but Sandy went for it. She said she felt a tingling sensation in her lips. We hope it's the gift of gab and not something else manifesting itself.
We proceeded to Cobh (pronounced Cove) where we stopped at St. Colman's Cathedral, a grand piece of architecture overlooking Cobh harbor. Cobh used to be called Queenstown to commemorate a visit by Queen Victoria but the name was restored to Cobh when Ireland became a free state. Elementary school boys in class were singing while we walked through the cathedral adding a sweet innocence to the atmosphere. As we were leaving, a sweet older lady stopped Sandy and I to give us a medal with Mary on it, saying it had been blessed and all we needed to do was to pray to her and all would be well. The printed information she gave us claimed Mary was born without sin which unfortunately is not biblical. Mary, the mother of Jesus was a wonderful woman of faith but was human and imperfect just like us all. I would have liked to talk with her a bit more but our yellow coat tour guide was heading out the door and we did not want to be left behind.
A few minutes away we stopped at the Queenstown Story Museum. It's a fascinating museum detailing the mass Irish emigration caused by the potato famine and the lack of assistance from England. It told of what they went through, the horrid conditions they lived in, and eventually the evolution of the emigration ships to our modern day cruise vessels. There were some ships called "Coffin Ships" because so many people would die during the voyages to Australia, the US, or Canada.
Sadness came over me as I envisioned my Irish ancestors living through these conditions as they made their way to the US and Canada. With Scotland's highland clearances and Ireland's mass emigration, the population was reduced drastically. Some areas are still recovering. In the midst of such hard times, they still found sparks of joy, danced, smiled and tried their best to see the silver lining when it was often pitch black with despair. There's a statue of Annie Moore and her two brothers commemorating the first people to emigrate from Cobh, Ireland and be received at Ellis Island in New York.
We waited by this statue for our tour guide ready to get on the bus for our next destination, only to find out we needed to get our luggage and head for the train. As the group deciphered the mixed communication, we grabbed our luggage and got back on the train, this time without the yellow-jacket tour guide who was headed back to Dublin with the rest of the group while a choice few headed to Killarney for the rest of our tour.
Our B&B hostess picked us up at the Killarney train station and in constant soft rain, dropped us all off at our respective accommodations. We were supposed to have an ensuite room and were told this was the case. However upon arriving, we found the bathroom happened to be down the hall that supposedly no one used. Ensuite means the bathroom is attached to your room, not that there's one somewhere in the house. It didn't matter that much to Sandy and I since we were only going to be there a couple of days but we found it funny.
We were told it rains twice a week in Ireland - the first for three days and another for four days. Due to the rain, our hostess dropped us off in the town center where we were given a tip for dinner and live Irish music.
It was quiet as we meandered up and down the main street looking at shops that were open. Unfortunately most were closed, but we did stumble upon a sweater shop with a feisty, high spirited shop attendant, Mary, who told us great stories. We spent a good majority of the evening in this store trying on sweaters, telling stories with Mary and another American lady of knitting, hard times, and the need to cherish each moment as we gave our honest opinions of what sweaters actually looked good on each other.
Mary gave us a recommendation for a couple of good pubs for dinner so we headed off, but couldn't find them so we ended up at Danny Mann's pub, recommended for their live Irish music. I tried Cottage Pie which was yummy but to our utter dismay found out the pub was packed with Americans who when given the opportunity requested the Irish folk band to play American-known songs throughout the night. The kicker was when they played "This Land is Your Land." Sandy and I both yelled in the midst of the jovial clamouring, "You're kidding me!" It was just wrong.
We did like the band so Sandy went to talk with them for a few moments which turned into about a half-hour. While I was enjoying my coffee, an older Irish man approached me, asking me where I was from. Wow. I must be that obvious that I'm a tourist.
"I'm from California," I politely responded.
"Did you and your friend leave your boyfriends at home?" he said above the pub chatter.
Being we don't have boyfriends I replied, "Oh, this is like a girl's weekend."
"Do you have an Irish boyfriend?"
I laughed saying, "I just got here! Give me some time!"
"Do you think it will happen?"
"No, because I'm only here for a few more days." With that, he left and I chuckled. What's up with Americans and Irish boyfriends?
We stayed around to listen to a few more songs from the band while our fellow American tourists stood in the walkway blocking our view, unaware of our existence before we began our walk back to our B&B in the rain.
Today was definitely not what we expected as the shoe of our American tour participants gave us a vantage point too close to home. We were able to see the stereotypes Americans give themselves when they travel abroad, making us more aware of our actions. We decided an attitude change was in order for us both and looked at the situation with a sense of humor, electing to embrace each moment we're given. The true adventure lies not in what we expect, but in embracing the unexpected. It's only then we rise to a vantage point that's life-changing.
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