Samson was waiting for us the next morning when we came downstairs for breakfast. He rolled over and allowed all of us to give him a morning belly scratch. Compared to Elliot this dog was massive. His head and paws alone were the size of my dog. He yawned and watched us as we trotted off to the breakfast room.
Olwen and the other guests greeted us. Breakfast was very much like the hotel's with a cold section of breads and fruits and a hot section with eggs and bacon and tomatoes. Olwen served us coffee and tea, and since I was embracing the culture I had tea. After breakfast Mary Anne chatted with Olwen while we explored the property some more.
We were loaded and ready to move on before ten. On the agenda was touring the Blarney Castle. Mary Anne had brought a book on Ireland and so I had circled several points of interest, this being one of them. Mary Anne told us that we had to climb the castle to kiss the Blarney Stone as she had done when she last visited Ireland sixty years ago.
So we did. She declined going again and sat outside with a couple from Northern Ireland while we attempted the stairs of the castle. There are over one hundred steps to get to the top and they are the original stone stairs, worn from years of shoes, and they were small and narrow. Some of the spaces were very tight as we wound our way up the spiral stairs, and because we were in a line we were stopped often. As we got higher, stopping in some of the spots had me a bit frightened as I'm afraid of heights. I was doing well, looking out of the castle windows and breathing in fresh air when Darcy, who is a bit height challenged as well, started making comments about the "scary stairs". At one point I thought I might start hyperventilating, but I told her to hush up and concentrated on the two ladies in front of me.
As we got closer to the top there were entertaining signs that gave us the history of the stone and it was at this point I realized that in order to kiss the thing I was going to have to lie down on my back and lean over the castle wall upside down to reach the stone. I decided I would just take pictures of everyone else kissing it, but by the time we got to the top and I watched people older then me doing it I got into my embracing mode and kissed the damn thing.
Now days kissing the stone is a lot easier then it was say sixty years ago. Mary Anne claims she was held by her ankles when she did it, and while I have a hard time believing picturing that people obviously did so. Now there are handrails to hold on and an attendant to hold your hips as you inch backwards and over the parapet. I'm not sure we actually kissed the right portion as I felt it was the very last piece hanging ten stories from the bottom, but what the hell, I can go with the flow. I did bend over, edge out there upside down and kiss a rock. Good enough. I now have the gift of eloquence.
The castle was built in 1446 by Cormac MacCarthy, King of Munster. He acquired half of the Blarney Stone after he sent men to help Robert the Bruce defeat the English at Bannockburn. Several years later a witch told the powers of the stone. There are over 60 acres of gardens, waterways, and arboretums. We started out walking the Rock Close which was said to be a mystical place on the site of an ancient Druidic settlement. We walked through a canopy of oak trees and wild vegetation until we reached the first of two waterfalls.
The information on the sign next to the steps said to walk down and up the steps with eyes closed, thinking only of the wish, so Darcy did this as did a woman from Alabama who we met at the bottom. She and her husband were on their 25th anniversary, and he and I watched her carefully as she navigated the steps blindly.
There were large signs everywhere that reminded you this was not a place to touch things, and when we read some of the horrible deaths if you did we kept our hands in our pockets. Except for Tom. At one point in our walk through the gardens he leaned over and touched one of the plants contained inside an iron cage. The plant had escaped out of the top and, well, we don't know what he was thinking, but he poked it. Immediately Darcy and I freaked out especially after reading the warning.
Triona was the best thing ever. She should be running all of Ireland as far as I'm concerned because not only is she on top of tourism, but she has her finger on the pulse of all of her country. She welcomed us, discussed the girls' red hair, told us Killarney was on water restriction, got my Cronin history, told me all about the hundreds of Cronins in the area, told us where to eat at a Cronin establishment, talked about Mary Anne's age and then her own, told us her B&B history, and gave us the rundown of the rules of the house...all in one breath. I'm not kidding. She could go from one topic, get distracted and start another topic, "Oh, your eyes, Cara! The girls get their eyes from you", and then jump right back to the original topic, get distracted, start another topic, and by the time she took a breath everything fit together and by golly we were informed. We LOVED her.
She settled us into out two rooms. The four of us were together and Mary Anne had her own room. It wasn't as posh as the first B&B, but seriously Triona and her husband William made it the best one we stayed in in Ireland. We dumped our bags and took off walking following Triona's instructions. Just down the street from her house was St. Mary's Cathedral so we started there.
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