10:40am, Monday — Crows caw overhead as we make our way to the car for a day full of exploring Cork and surrounding areas. Clearly, the universe is on our side.

By the time morning rolled around on Day 2 in Ireland — our first full day in the country — the Airbnb was no longer giving “mild”. That’s because we had turned up the thermostat the night before to what our host, Gem, might have described as a “sweltering” 21 degrees Celsius (roughly 70 Fahrenheit). With the room temperature reconfigured, a freshly brewed espresso in hand, and a plush white robe on my back, all of the trappings for a comfy, cozy morning were in place, and that’s precisely what was had.

As far as the day itself was concerned, we hadn’t looked up a ton of things to do or really put any kind of concrete plan in place, but one thing that was absolutely, without-a-doubt, no-ifs-ands-or-buts-about-it on the list was a visit to Blarney Castle. There, we’d have the opportunity to climb up to the parapet or rampart or battlement or whatever you want to call it and kiss the fabled Blarney Stone, which is said to bring good luck and eloquence (“the gift of gab”, so they say) to anyone who lays a wet one on it.

First up, however, was a trip into the city centre, where the Shandon Bells at St. Anne’s Church awaited. Although I conducted minimal research on things to do in Cork, this was one thing I did read about that seemed worth its salt.

11:32am — Despite the risk of immediate spontaneous combustion, we cross the threshold of St. Anne’s Church. Just to be sure, I yell out: “Smite me, Almighty Smiter!” The woman behind the desk gives me a funny look before asking if it’ll just be the two of us for the tower tour.

We took a look inside the sanctuary and what-have-you at ground level, but didn’t waste much time before heading up the stairs into the bell tower. Right above the entrance to the church is where you’ll find a small room housing the Ellacombe apparatus (a term I definitely didn’t have to look up) used to ring each of the eight bells that first sounded their joyous chorus on December 7, 1752. They’re impressive enough all on their own, that’s for sure, but they were truly immortalized about a century later in a poem entitled “The Bells of Shandon” by Francis Sylvester Mahony, who, as we all know, went by the pen name Father Prout.

Past the Ellacombe apparatus room, as it henceforth shall be known, you encounter a series of increasingly narrow stone stairways that take you up into the belfry itself (here is where the noise-cancelling headphones come in), and eventually up and out onto a balcony overlooking the city of Cork from three directions: north, west, and south. The photo above in which the graveyard is visible shows the view looking southwest.

12:38pm — We sit down for lunch at Muskerry Arms Bar and B&B just across the Square from Blarney Castle & Gardens. Champions League football is on the telly. A chicken & smoked bacon panini is minutes away from curing the rumbly in my tumbly.

Following a fuel session at Muskerry Arms, the time had come to take in the pièce de résistance of this initial leg of our Ireland (and England) adventure: Blarney Castle & Gardens. The castle itself, which dates back to the 15th century, is the main attraction here, of course, but virtually surrounding the structure are 60 acres of “surprises, delights and mysteries waiting to be discovered”.

These surprises and delights include various gardens, such as the Himalayan Valley (rhododendrons, magnolias, and other Himalayan species); the Vietnamese Woodland (an ex-situ conservation project aimed at preserving plant species from Northern Vietnam); and the Poison Garden (wolfsbane, opium poppies, lily of the valley, and much more). Additionally, there are a handful of natural rock formations — Druid’s Circle, Witch’s Cave, and the Seven Sisters, to name a few — and other… unexpected, let’s say… attractions, such as the Horse Graveyard.

2:17pm — The rampart is empty, save for a family of five across the way. We make our way over to the Blarney Stone, thanking the gods of shoulder season for this wondrous miracle. I offer an extra bit of thanks that kissing this supposedly magical stone no longer requires literally being dangled over the side of a five-story-high castle wall.

Due to the fact that we were visiting during the shoulder season (the period between the offseason (Nov.-Feb.) and peak season (June-Sept.)), the place was practically wide open with no wait times for anything. Thus, much like young Simba, I was able to laugh in the face of danger — in this case, a marker along the path leading up to the entrance of the castle noting it would take about 90 minutes to reach the Blarney Stone from that particular point in line. Not only did we not have to stand in line, we were literally able to waltz right inside the place and got to explore every nook and cranny, including all three (or was it four?) of the garderobes (see: Medieval latrine), which is still something I have questions about. But let’s leave that for another time.

Once we had wrapped up inside the castle, finishing with a peek at the “murder hole” (an opening situated directly above the main entrance used for thwarting intruders who had breached the door, such as by pouring hot oil on them), it was time for a walk through the grounds. In addition to some of the attractions listed above, one sight you’ll definitely want to see is the Fern Garden, a wooded area filled with tall tree ferns brought from the other side of the world that feels distinctly Jurassic.

While we spent a great deal of time at the castle and gardens, we still didn’t see everything, which certainly speaks to just how much there is to see and do there. But with a finite amount of hours in the day, it eventually became time to head over to the neighboring city of Cobh, where we would get a taste of the Titanic Experience. We figured, leaving from Blarney when we did, that we could make it over there for one of the final tours of the day. However…

4:52pm — The sign tucked inside the door of the Titanic Experience informs us the last guided tour for the day began at 4:30. Ahh well, to the bar we go.

Having just missed the last tour of the day, we ducked inside the Titanic Bar & Grill instead for some Titanic-themed adult beverages. The drink menu had such selections as “1st Class Spritz” (elderflower, soda, lemon, prosecco); “Paint Me Like One of Your French Girls” (vodka, pineapple, raspberry); and “Captain Smith” (Captain Morgan, Malibu, mango, coconut), named after British sea captain Edward Smith who famously went down with the ship. Even with those riveting selections on offer, it was “Heart of the Ocean” (gin, blue curaçao, grapefruit, lemonade) for me and the “Pornstar Martini” (vanilla vodka, passion fruit, pineapple, prosecco) for my traveling companion.

6:48pm — Oh god, another church. This time: St. Colman’s Cathedral in Cobh. I try the door ostensibly concealing the stairs to the tower. Locked. Drats, foiled again.

A couple rounds of drinks down the hatch, we closed out the evening in Cobh by paying a visit to St. Colman’s, the massive cathedral that sits atop a hill overlooking the harbor. At just a hair under 300 feet, the cathedral’s steeple is the tallest in Ireland and I was intent on climbing up that sucker for an even more incredible view. Alas, no such luck.

Settling for the view right outside the cathedral’s doors certainly wasn’t the end of the world, though.

-LTH