Blarney Castle and a Rainy Day in Kinsale 9/6/09

I caved into my better judgement and convinced Fletch to drive 35 miles north from where we were staying in Kinsale, to visit the Blarney Castle. It was rainy and cold in Kinsale and our hopes were a change in the weather if we traveled north. Blarney was wetter and colder and as Fletch and I tried to navigate around other tourist with oversized umbrellas, I knew this was a bad ideal. I will skip the fight we had over who should hold the umbrella (Fletch didn't appreciated the flood of water pouring down his back when I held the umbrella) and jump to the real hair puller. From the bottom to top of Blarney Castle is around 5 stories high. To get to the top, one must climb an ancient spiral staircase with a thick rope to grasp with your right hand to keep from slipping. Blarney Castle does not have a complete roof so it leaks. Needless to say, the steps were slippery and narrow and may I remind you... 5 stories high ... no safety net and no turning back. As we reached the door way to the battlements were the Blarney Stone is situated, Fletch discovers, it's a small opening. My heart starts racing (even more because of the death drop below me) but he manages to squeeze through and I followed quickly behind. The battlement was easy to maneuver but the line of people had to keep moving, there was no time to linger. Fletch and I decided not to kiss the Blarney Stone because of the germ factor, but in all honesty, a rainy day probably would have been the safest (germs being washed away). I could picture myself, lying flat on my back in a puddle of water, shirt hitched over my ever expanding belly with my hormone patch exposed, causing puzzlement to some and pity from others (that would be the menopause crowd) as I craned my ever-so-tight neck over a ledge to kiss a bloody rock, no thanks. The way down was the same harrowing experience as going up but there was some railing for a small sense of security. I had three large women (how they get through that opening?) behind me who Fletch was afraid would slip and cause a domino effect. After an Irish coffee in Blarney town, all was well.

We returned to Kinsale to find it was pouring cats and dogs. Our room was cozy enough to call it a day. We discovered we had internet service again and I tired to get caught up on my blog. I wrote postcards and Fletch watched the hurling tournament. By the way, Kilkenny is the champions again. We listened to classical music via the internet and took a long cozy nap. Our day ended with a well deserved meal at a intriguing restaurant in a medieval building named, Vintage.