So, after nearly a week in absence from the post as correspondent in matters concerning Dublin in general, UCD in particular and whatever ell that happens around Ireland, I finally found me some time to write some words. In short I have just spent the weekend in Co. Cork, done the surrounding countryside such as places like the village of Kinsale, Fort Charles, the Blarney Stone and the cathedral ruins at the Rock of Cashel. Quite different from the North of Ireland last week, and made it possible for me to take some 300 pictures, think that something like a new record for me, and some three times more pictures in three days that I did manage in eight days in Scotland in March.
Cork as a city was rather disappointing. Not because of any obvious reason, there were pubs there, there were a lot typical Irish streets there, but there were a lot of things that were missing; it was like the city were completely forgotten by the Tourist board, cause there were nothing special there. And in some way understand a friend of me, who is born there, when he answered me “No” when I asked him if he could give me two arguments for going to Cork. However, the places around are more interesting, but perhaps places such as Kinsale perhaps are a bit more, let us say pleasant, to visit in summer time.
The best place to visit then was the Castle in Blarney. A ruin, with a gothic mansion ruin beside it, and a bunch of crows and ravens living in it. And the stone of course, and I love it, best kiss in 2008 and I could indeed feel the Irish way of speaking build up together with the Luck of the Irish. And it did start pretty good as well, three of us, including the ISS leader, dropped the schedule and took a table at a local cafe and ordered a full Irish breakfast, and let the rest of the group wait for us. However, think about the actual words “Luck of the Irish”, it consist of two main words “Luck” and “Irish”. Luck is something that gives you a number of different benefits that you hadn’t expected; the Irish are a people at Isle just west of England. This sounds just nice, but together? Are we speaking about the same Irish? As I soon did discover, we are talking about the luck of a people that have starved and fled by the millions, that despite some 800 years of fight for independence just manage to gain control over 80 % of the Isle, that just 30 years ago were a agrarian country poorer than an East European country that had been isolated from the world marked for some decades, who still have problems concerning emigration, that basically still have to trust the Church in the development of the society and have a rather traumatic and highly complicated relationship with their British neighbours? That kind of luck are we talking about. Or is it anyother who call themself Irish? After some two hours with the new luck spreading from the lips and around the body I was trapped on the bus with PS I Love You, a way too typical romantic comedy -on which I have a ban and denies their very existence- running. Actually it was running twice, and I can’t see how it may be luck to watch Gerard Butler strip whit all the sounds that implies. That did hurt, and I do herby appeal to the United Nations and European Union to strike down this systematically violation of the Humans Fundamental Rights. Armed actions may be welcomed. Just make it stop. Stop the sounds. Please.
Cork as a city was rather disappointing. Not because of any obvious reason, there were pubs there, there were a lot typical Irish streets there, but there were a lot of things that were missing; it was like the city were completely forgotten by the Tourist board, cause there were nothing special there. And in some way understand a friend of me, who is born there, when he answered me “No” when I asked him if he could give me two arguments for going to Cork. However, the places around are more interesting, but perhaps places such as Kinsale perhaps are a bit more, let us say pleasant, to visit in summer time.
The best place to visit then was the Castle in Blarney. A ruin, with a gothic mansion ruin beside it, and a bunch of crows and ravens living in it. And the stone of course, and I love it, best kiss in 2008 and I could indeed feel the Irish way of speaking build up together with the Luck of the Irish. And it did start pretty good as well, three of us, including the ISS leader, dropped the schedule and took a table at a local cafe and ordered a full Irish breakfast, and let the rest of the group wait for us. However, think about the actual words “Luck of the Irish”, it consist of two main words “Luck” and “Irish”. Luck is something that gives you a number of different benefits that you hadn’t expected; the Irish are a people at Isle just west of England. This sounds just nice, but together? Are we speaking about the same Irish? As I soon did discover, we are talking about the luck of a people that have starved and fled by the millions, that despite some 800 years of fight for independence just manage to gain control over 80 % of the Isle, that just 30 years ago were a agrarian country poorer than an East European country that had been isolated from the world marked for some decades, who still have problems concerning emigration, that basically still have to trust the Church in the development of the society and have a rather traumatic and highly complicated relationship with their British neighbours? That kind of luck are we talking about. Or is it anyother who call themself Irish? After some two hours with the new luck spreading from the lips and around the body I was trapped on the bus with PS I Love You, a way too typical romantic comedy -on which I have a ban and denies their very existence- running. Actually it was running twice, and I can’t see how it may be luck to watch Gerard Butler strip whit all the sounds that implies. That did hurt, and I do herby appeal to the United Nations and European Union to strike down this systematically violation of the Humans Fundamental Rights. Armed actions may be welcomed. Just make it stop. Stop the sounds. Please.
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