We knew exactly what we wanted to do on this day:

1. eat a huge amazing breakfast courtesy of Pam @ Knockeven House
2. Visit the Queenstown Historical Center, a museum that details the mass Irish emigration from Ireland and the area's role in the worldwide advancement of boating
3. Visit St. Colman's Cathedral in Cobh
4. go to Blarney Woolen Mills to shop for sweaters, scarves and hats
5. visit Cork's English Market (I have a thing for food markets; see previous raves of Pike Place and West Side Market)
6. visit Kinsale, eat seafood
7. listen to some traditional Irish music
8. get home at a reasonable hour so we could get on the road to Killarney

While the day started off great, including wonderful weather, delicious breakfast, interesting, educational museum and breathtaking cathedral, against all of our best efforts, it was not meant to be what we had hoped for. 

You see, there was this thing all the locals and European press were calling The 1000 Year Storm (apparently neither it nor the one in Cumbria made the U.S. news) - basically, the worst storm to hit the isles in several hundred years was causing major flooding in Cork's city center, as well as several of the outlying country areas where smaller rivers and streams were flooding their banks, closing nearby roads and ruining homes. 

We did manage to go shopping at Blarney Woolen Mills where I purchased a sweater you'll see me wearing in most of the pictures from here on out (mmmm, warm & cuddly), as well as some souvenirs to bring back to Alan's mom to thank her for watching Dakota. While shopping we thought we might at least check out Blarney Castle, but decided against it when it was 10 euro to even go anywhere near it.  No thanks - with castles dotting the Cork & Kerry landscape, it just wasn't worth 20 euro to see a major tourist trap.  Unfortunately, this is where our day takes a turn for the worst (well, not as bad as residents of Cork - they're still dealing with more flooding and sanitation issues).  We started down one road only to find it washed out.  We turned around and went down another to find - you guessed it - that it too was washed out.  The whole time our GPS is telling us to make a u-turn and go back so we found ourselves driving down random country roads trying to get back to the main "ring road" to get into Cork. 

At this point we hadn't heard that Cork city center was closed - in fact, we'd heard it was open. Merde!  So we attempted to make it into the city center. Bad idea. VERY BAD IDEA.  We drove around Cork for about an hour first trying to get to the English Market and then trying to get the hell out of dodge.  Because our GPS isn't equipped to deal with road closures (or city closures for that matter) it kept sending us the wrong way.  We finally stopped and asked a very nice gentleman how to leave and he gave us pretty decent instructions, if only we could have understood his thick Cork accent.  Loved it!

After what seemed like FOREVER (trust me, you try driving on those narrow Cork roads and tell me how long you think it feels), we made our way to the main road and out of the city.  Unfortunately, everyone else had the same idea so we hit a lot of traffic.  Thankfully, because we had started our day so early we were able to get to Kinsale before dusk and do a walking tour of what was one of my favorite towns during the trip.

Before going to dinner we spent some time at the pub pictured above (An Seananchai), drinking beer (shocking!) and watching rugby.  We watched A LOT of rugby on this trip and I've come to the decision that American football players are pansy showboats.

We had dinner at Fishy Fishy, which is one of the more famous seafood restaurants in town, and I'm really glad we did.  The oysters we started with - from a place called (naturally), Oysterhaven - were amazingly plump, salty and delicious.  I could have eaten them all night.  Alas, we also had hake (for Alan) and scallops (for me).  Alan questioned me ordering scallops, but when we got back to the room and read the guidebooks they all mentioned the incredibly fresh scallops to be found in Kinsale.  I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the sticky toffee pudding we ended the meal with - it ranks as quite possibly one of my favorite desserts EVER.  And I love dessert.  Every bite had me - quite literally - moaning with pleasure.  I'm sure the table next to us found me disgusting but oh my god it was one of the best things I've ever put in my mouth.  I'm salivating just thinking about it.

After dinner we went back to the pub to wait for the 10:15 p.m. call time of the local musician(s).  For some reason we thought it was going to be a band.  Alas, it was a lone man with a guitar and a harmonica but he was great and it was exactly what we were looking for (and oh boy did we wait!). Up until this point in the trip this was the latest I'd managed to stay up and it was a struggle.

Have you ever watched The Amazing Race?  You know how having a bad cabby or getting lost can be the difference between 1st place and "I'm sorry to tell you you have been eliminated from the race" (said, of course, in Phil's sexy Kiwi accent)? 

Well, from this point on, that's pretty much our night.  We left Kinsale, driving back to Cobh on what were pretty deserted country roads (damn Ns and Rs!).  We were making good time and were relieved to find that we'd only encountered one point along the road that was a bit harried.  As we approached the area we thought was near the b&b, our GPS (the lovely, British Selene voice) announced we had reached the ferry.  FERRY?!  We forgot to tell the bloody thing NOT to take any routes that required a ferry which, at this time, was CLOSED.  We were now on the complete other side of the harbor and it was getting late.  At this point we had absolutely no idea where we were and no idea on how to get where we needed to be.  Everytime we'd plug our destination into the GPS it kept telling us to make a u-turn and go back.  Finally, after another hour we approached Cobh, and then our inn, to find Pam the innkeeper waiting up for us.  If she had had Phil standing next to her to tell us we'd been eliminated from the vacation I wouldn't have been surprised.  It was really quite an awful end to what had been a day filled with highs and lows and didn't bode well for that early start the next morning.

Mount Juliet was one of only a handful of hotels that I've ever been sad to leave for the hotel itself. I loved it there.  Still, we had many more days ahead of us, and a list of sites to see that was longer than we could possibly fit into the trip, so we had to get our arses on the road.  Jerpoint Abbey, a Cistercian Abbey likely built in 1180, was our first stop of the day.  Initially the curator wasn't going to allow us to visit the abbey because of the weather and flooding, but a docent walking around inside said that it wasn't entirely flooded and we could visit if we wanted to.  We essentially had the entire abbey to ourselves as we roamed around looking at the 13th century carvings while trying to avoid any nasty puddles.

From Jerpoint,we drove to the Rock of Cashel - also known as Cashel of the Kings and St. Patrick's Rock. Prior to the Norman invasion of Ireland, it was the seat of the Kings of Munster who St. Patrick converted to Christianity in the 5th century.  Damn St. Patrick and his meddling ways. Alas, before we could actually get to Cashel we had to drive down every country road in counties Wicklow and Tipperary. (Side note: this is the point in the trip where we thought, "maybe we should have gotten that SUV instead."  The roads are lined with shrubs that are about 6 feet tall and their paving leaves a lot to be desired.)  At one point the roads were completely flooded, but not impassable.  This was our first glimpse into just how bad the storm really was as at this point we'd only heard it was going to be major, and hadn't really experienced it for ourselves.

The weather in Cashel was TERRIBLE with rain that was coming down sideways and winds up to 80 mph . I don't know if it was because of the weather that other tourists stayed in their hotel rooms nice and warm, or if this particular area was pretty much bereft of tourism at the moment, but we essentially had the Rock entirely to ourselves.  From what I've read, this is pretty unheard of.

After stopping in Cashel for some pot pie and salads, we made our way to Cahir to visit Cahir Castle - or so we thought.  Because of the high winds and flooded River Suir the castle was unfortunately closed to visitors for the time being.  Foiled!

The road out of Cahir was also flooded, however, because this time it was an actual river that had jumped its banks, the water wasn't still - it was running and rather quickly.  There were a couple of cars that were ballsy enough to try to drive through this water but most everyone - including trucks - were turning around and finding a new direction/route to use.

By the time we made it to Cobh in County Cork it was pretty dark and the rains had continued to fall.  Unfortunately, our GPS (guided by Bing maps) didn't actually know where the Knockeven House was so after finding ourselves in a subdivision outside the town and then driving up and down the streets of Cobh, we were completely frustrated as to where we were and how we needed to get to the inn.  What's more, the website and the directions didn't really give a street address (we found this to be the case with many of the places we stayed).  Toward the end of the main drag in Cobh I managed to steal some WiFi access to find someone who had visited before describing how to find the inn since it's not immediately obvious.  If that hadn't worked, I was going to email one of my colleagues at work and have them send me back very explicit instructions based on their full screen web searches.  After what seemed like forever, we finally found our inn, where the owner - Pam - was waiting to greet us with freshly made scones and tea.  Ahhh, hospitality. 

That night, after walking up and down the streets of Cobh in the rain saying, "this doesn't look good" or "I don't want that" about the 4 food options, we found ourselves back at the original place Pam recommend, the Trade Winds Inn for what was one of our favorite meals the entire trip.  This was also our introduction to Murphy's, which is another stout that is brewed in Cork.

And again, like all the nights before it, when we were done with dinner I crashed, and hard.  At least this time it wasn't only 9 p.m.

The next morning - awake before dawn, again - we packed, had breakfast, and checked out of the Shelbourne to make our way out to the airport to pick up our car and drive down to Kilkenny/Thomastown.  Given that this was Alan's first time driving a right-hand car on the left side of the road, we were rather aggressive in our plans to see Glendalough and Kilkenny and everything took just a little bit longer than we had anticipated.  That, paired with our complete lack of sleep and the skies darkening at 4:15, made for a very long and frustrating day.  In the end we had to scrap our plans to go into Kilkenny for the Ireland/France soccer match because we were just too tired.  Instead, we watched the game in our amazingly beautiful room at the Mount Juliet Hotel.

Because driving on the other side of the car/road was so new, it was not without its challenges.  I can't say too much for Alan's feelings about the whole thing, but I can tell you that at one point - while looking at the back of a semi as we changed lanes - I felt very apprehensive about the whole thing.  To give him credit though, we did make it to our destination unharmed, unscathed and no worse for wear. 

Glendalough was incredibly beautiful, and I imagine in good weather would have been an awe-inspiring site. Seeing ruins of buildings and churches that were built in 600 A.D. was one of those instances - like Rome - where I felt like America was nothing but a squawking, precocious infant trying to assert its dominance while the rest of the world was sitting back thinking, "they'll understand when they're older."  There's simply no way for Americans to comprehend a populated, civilized society that goes back millenia and standing there, you're just humbled.

In Kilkenny we walked around the castle and the design center but didn't do any actual shopping.  If I'm being honest I was kind of let down with the look of Kilkenny after hearing so many people say it was their favorite stop in Ireland.  I was also extremely hungry and grumpy and I'm sure my foul mood was less than appreciated by my traveling partner.  Once I had some potato salad in me (one of my new favorite dishes from our travels!), I felt infinitely better.  It was getting dark and starting to rain so we made our way out of town to check into our hotel - Google maps had indicated it was about 6 km outside of Kilkenny and should only have taken us about 10 minutes.  Ha!  Our Garmin took us a very roundabout way that would have had us lost if it weren't for the signage the hotel has located EVERYWHERE as you approach.

When we arrived at Mount Juliet, we were shown into what I can only describe as the biggest damn hotel room we've ever had.  It was in a wing to the right of reception (does that make it the west or east wing?!) and was just so beautifully decorated.  Even better was the private(ish) patio immediately outside.  If it hadn't been pouring rain at this point it would have been a great place to have morning coffee.  As it was, Alan went outside and watched the 10,000+ crows who descend daily/nightly on the estate property return for the evening.  If you've never seen that many crows, it's terrifyingly beautiful. None of my pictures can do the experience justice, but trust me when I saw the sky turns black.

It was heartbreaking to be in Ireland and watch the soccer match essentially stolen from them over what was clear to anyone who watched an extremely flagrant handball on the goal.  Alas, that's what we had to do.  I'm actually kind of happy we didn't have it in us to drive back into Kilkenny and watch - I'm not comfortable with grown people crying.

The next morning was our first introduction into the buffet and traditional Irish breakfast that is served with all b&b plans across the country.  Like fools we started out by grabbing a bit of this and a bit of that, only to groan when our actual meal came.  Too. Much. Food.  Sadly, it was so delicious that we ate all of it (and now my pants don't fit!).

The next morning would kick off what became - quite possibly - the worst sleep over a sustained period in our entire lives.  2:30 a.m. and I was as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as I ever am at my most alert.  As if that wasn't unfortunate enough, the same thing happened to Alan and would continue for each of us nearly every night of the trip.  It's REALLY hard to find something to do at that hour and then not crash come 11 a.m.  We did a lot of reading and took a lot of hot baths in hopes of lulling ourselves to sleep, all in vain.

Rather than sit in the hotel any longer we left our room at 7:30 a.m. that first day only to find that Dublin, apparently, doesn't wake up until 8:29:59.  The bellman at the hotel laughed when we asked where we could get breakfast, telling us that nothing would be open until 9 a.m.  We settled for lattes and croissants at Costa, which I've learned is a European version of something like Seattle's Best - not quite as well-known or respected as Starbucks, but certainly not an independent coffee house or mom & pop shop.

After fueling up on caffine we took the opportunity to just wander around the streets of Dublin, where we learned that Dubliners are the fastest walkers we have ever seen anywhere - don't get in the way of a Dublinite and his/her destination because you will get bodychecked (as my right shoulder learned more than it wanted to).  

After our walk we went back to the hotel for a morning nap (making us either infants or elderly) before jumping on the hop on/hop off bus to tour Dublin. Our favorite stop on that journey was most certainly the Guinness Storehouse.  The information was really well presented, engaging and easy to understand, whether you had only a passing or in depth interest in beer making.  As you'll see below, the weather also changed dramatically from morning to afternoon - it went from bright, sunny  & slightly chilly to gray, cold and wet by 4 p.m.

We made our way back to the hotel where we had some Irish coffee in the beautiful bar before going back to the room for what would be for me a nap and some reading time. Dinner that night was at Yagawama or whatever the noodle bar is called and frankly, we were not impressed.  Like The Hangover, I don't understand how it became such a phenomenon. Am I missing something? Before heading back to the hotel to sleep for a couple of hours, we strolled down Grafton Street, all decorated for holiday shopping.

Isn't it lovely? Warms my cold black heart.  Why can't we have pedestrian shopping streets like this that aren't part of manufactured outdoor malls?

Taking a trip to Ireland is something that I've wanted to do ever since I was a kid, partly due to the fact that I'm Irish (Donnelly/Quirke) but more so to do with the fact that everyone I know who has ever gone comes home waxing poetic about its people, beauty and landscape.  Last year we decided to head to Ireland for a week to celebrate our 7th wedding anniversary but due to life's little pitfalls, we were forced to postpone the trip until November.  This gave me far more time to plan, which in turn resulted in the trip going from 7 nights to 12 nights, and much to Alan's horror, more $$.  Oops.

Our trip couldn't have come at a better time (from my point of view; Alan may differ) as I was really stressed out with just completed back-to-back-to-back launches for all of my clients.  I desperately needed some down time where I could just focus on staying sane and spending time with Alan.  Unfortunately, all of this work-related activity really derailed the amount of reading/planning I'd normally do for a trip so rather than really honing in on what we absolutely wanted to/must do during the trip, I put together a list of absolutely everything we could possibly do.  This proved to be a bit overwhelming while we were there as there were times when we tried to do more than we could feasibly fit in during the approximately 7.5 hours of daylight each day.

The other issue that had me worried about the trip was my extreme fear of flying, which is only getting worse and worse the more I travel. A couple of weeks before we left I mentioned this to my doctor who was oh so lovely and prescribed me Adavan which was exactly what I needed to relax on the 10 hr, 40 min flight to Amsterdam, en route to Dublin.  Yeah, it was a long route, but it was the cheapest available for our dates, and in the end I thought flying KLM was as good an experience as one can have during such a long flight.  The crew was professional and thoughtful, the seats spacious and comfortable, and they fed you constantly and the movie/TV options were top notch.  When I wasn't passed out, I managed to watch The Hangover and 500 Days of Summer.  As an aside, I really don't get why people thought The Hangover was the most hilarious movie ever filmed.

While in Dublin we stayed at the Shelbourne Hotel, which had an excellent location on St. Stephen's Green and won my heart over with its down-filled pillow top mattress pad.  Swoon.  We had a pretty standard room with a view into some offices behind the hotel, but we didn't spend much time actually in the room so that was fine by me - we just kept the curtains drawn the entire time.  While in Ireland, this hotel was the only one where we were able to regulate/control the heat to our liking which doesn't sound like it'd be much of a big deal but when it's freezing outside and your room doesn't have heat ... well, as you can imagine, that ain't cool. Walking into the Shelbourne was also our first run in with the Christmas decorations that would be on display during the duration of our trip.  I know it's such a strange thing, but I think having Christmas trees, wreaths and garlands on display made the hotel feel that much more cozy and warm.

After getting settled at the hotel, we made our way to Trinity College to see the Book of Kells.  This is one of those things that every guide book and person you know who has been to Ireland will tell you you absolutely have to see.  I'm about to say something very sacrilegious so stop reading if you can't handle it: not worth the time. Sure it's astounding that the Celtic monks of circa 800 A.D. were able to create these amazing drawings and use the color they did, but the whole "illuminated manuscript" thing you hear so much about?  I kept saying, "is that it?"  The majority of the time you spend viewing the pages isn't actually about the pages; rather, it's a room with a ton of information about the pages and the day and age.  I guess I had assumed we'd be able to see more than 4 pages (yes, you read that right) and that it would somehow bowl me over or make me feel humbled in the presence of greatness.  It didn't.  What did, however, was The Long Room in the Old Library with its ancient books, vaulted wood ceiling and just floor to ceiling stacks as far as the eye could see.  We actually spent more time looking at the library itself than we did the Book of Kells.

After our walking tour of the Trinity College area, we made our way to Temple Bar for what we hoped was some food, drink and live music.  We found the drink and music but at that point we were both STARVING so we wandered around looking for someone that would serve us traditional irish stew.  Yes, we're lame like that, but I wanted stew and I would not settle for anything less at that point.  We ended up eating at The Quays Restaurant and yes it was a tourist trap, but dammit if they didn't have some very decent Irish stew.  They also sat us immediately and brought our food quickly, so it was a win in my book. And of course we had our first of what would be MANY pints of Guinness over the next 11 days.

And then we went back to the hotel and promptly CRASHED from exhaustion.