Liar, Liar pants on fire!

Hello hello!

So, we have once again changed cities. We are noe in Cork, a town that reminds me a whole heck of a lot of downtown Montreal. It's all shops and depanneurs and tourist gift shops... you know the type I mean. But it's real appeal lies beyond the city limits.

First,let me tell you of our hostel adventures. Heather, being somewhat of a nerd (not unlike myself...) went ahead and booked all of our hostels for Ireland ahead of time. The only problem is, she forgot there were 31 days in May. So we showed up at our hostel in Cork and told thelady at the reception desk that we had a reservation and she kinda looked at us like we were idiots and said "Ok, I've found it... it's for tomorrow"... so we had a little bit of a freak out session, but she fixed it all up for us. And not only that, she fixed us up with a private room (with a sink...so exciting!) for three nights (instead of the original two) at no extra charge. Well, we had to pay for the third night, clearly, but the private room was not charged more than the dormitory would have been. So that's hot... Heather should forget days more often.

Anyway, today we hopped on a bus and went to visit the small town of Blarney, about 30 minutes away from Cork. In Blarney, there are about three shops, a tourist office and maybe 4 restaurants and thats about it. Except, of course, for the rather exceptional castle. This castle is quite different from the other castles I have visited so far on this trip. The others were fully restored castles with some of the original decorations and furnishings. This one, on the other hand, is completely decrepit and ruined. The walls are falling apart, there's moss growing all over it and some of the stairs are slighty tatty, but this all adds to its romantic appeal. So, in this castle, the main attraction is the Blarney Stone. The Blarney Stone, when kissed, is said to give the kisser the "gift of the gab", or, as Queen Victoria the 1st so aptly put it, "the ability to tell lies" for seven years. Needless to say, we all wanted a piece of the action (we tried to overlook the fact that millions and millions of people have kissed this rock before us...)

To get to the stone, you have toclimb to the very top of the tower. Up and up and up some more, along a very steep, very old, and very narrow staircase you go until you finally reach the top of the tower, where, at certain intervals along the edge, there are gaping holes in the floor, covered only by some steel poles, probably spaced out enough for you to fall through anyways. The Blarney Stone, as it were, is placed in one of these holes. To get to it, you have to lie on your back with your head in the hole, bend over backwards and kiss the wall... all this hanging over some more of these ominous metal poles. Naturally, there is an attendant there grasping your jacket, but still... a bit creepy.

Tomorrow, I believe we are going to Mizon Head, a crazy cool bay at the tip of the ocean. Should be awesome... then again, I could be lying, as a kissed a probably herpes infected rock today which will undoubtedly make every word I utter for the next seven years a lie... so I'll have to get back to you on that one!!

Cheers!

Steph :)