I woke up at 5:30 on my own.  There was no clock in the room so I assumed there was no alarm.  Later I would be moving things around on the nightstand and find directions to make the phone ring for an alarm.  Note to self:  examine every inch of hotel room.
 
Actually, I can wake up pretty easily on my own.  And I did this day; I just didn’t want to actually get up.  I had had roughly twelve hours of sleep in three days.  If I hadn’t already paid for the day trip, I might have just lain there.  Which is of course why I had booked something – so I didn’t waste time lolling about the hotel.
 
The worst thing perhaps about this wake up was that I was going to have to walk roughly two miles to the train station without caffeine.  The hotel came with a lovely breakfast, but it wouldn’t start until 8:30.  And on my walk nothing was open.
 
So I arrived at Heuston station in a very surreal state.  Which meant I had just enough bad judgment to order a coffee and breakfast roll (sausage, egg, rasher of bacon, cheese, and…mushrooms?) from the fast-food joint there.  The coffee machine was on the fritz, I could never get myself to each the fatty, un-American part of bacon, and overall the sandwich was just gross.  But at least I had something in my stomach.
 
My tour was through the Railtours Ireland.  They set up a little stand with a sign near the train platform doors and wear bright yellow jackets so they are hard to miss.  I grabbed my packet and waiting with everyone else, then the tour guide led us down to a car where they had reserved enough seats for the group to sit together.
 
I was sitting with a couple – the woman American and man Irish – and an Australian girl who was also traveling alone.  LeeAnne and I would end up getting friendly and spend the rest of the day as tour-mates, but for now it was too early for everyone.
 
The train went down to Cork, stopping a few places on the way.  Half the group got off to change at Limerick for a different tour.  It was about a three and a half hour train ride.  It was pretty, and nice to have that much travel-time so early in the morning.  We saw jockeys exercising the horses at the stables near the Irish Derby racetrack.  And sheep.  Lots of sheep.
 
The guide did not really have a set shpeal.  He talked to those near him, and wandered the cabin to address everyone at least a bit.  I got the feeling though the guide was pointing out things he liked and if we’d had someone else we would have heard about different things.  Since I had booked the tour more for the convenience of transportation (buses to take me to locations after the train), I didn’t mind.  But if you want someone to really teach you a lot about Ireland, find a different tour company or stick to the guide like glue and ask lots of questions.
 
We got into Cork and immediately transferred to chartered bus.  We drove around Cork while the guide explained different sights, buildings, and the river.  Then we made our way to Blarney castle.
 
I had chosen this tour because I had wanted to see a castle in general, not because of the stone.  I had also heard the gardens at Blarney were beautiful.  But really, unless you are deathly afraid of heights (which, I am to some extent but remember I’m all about facing my fears) you should just count on kissing the stone.  How can you come all this way and NOT kiss the stone?
 
The stairs up to the top of the castle were steep and narrow with only a bit of rope to hold onto.  I suggest not thinking about falling and killing all the other tourists struggling behind you.  It doesn’t help your balance, trust me.
 
 The view from the top is gorgeous.  All holes that you could fall through have been lovingly fitted with thin metal bars to assure you will just hurt yourself and have the scare of your life.
 
There is a professional Blarney-stone-person-holder up there, as well as photographers.  There’s even plastic put down where you sit.  You lean backwards, grab some more thin metal bars, stick your head completely perpendicular to the ground (the stone is right above one of these metal bar fitted openings), and viola.
 
LeeAnne tried to get my picture, but it happens pretty quick.  I paid for the professional photos and I think it was worth it.  No worse than what you might pay at Disney for your picture on Splash Mountain and a tad more historic.  Plus the photos themselves are nicely done, large (5×7) and in a quite pretty jacket with some of the legend on it.
 
The trip down is much easier than up.  The stairs are wider and there was a metal railing.
 
LeeAnne and I then walked the Rock Close, a rock garden from the beginning of the 19^th century on the site of Druidic remains.  Signs were put in place so you knew you were at the Head Druids Cave, the Fairy Glade, the Wishing Steps, or the Witches Kitchen.  A little cutesy, but very pretty.
 
Then we went for a bite and some shopping.  The Blarney Mill had a great deal on wool sweaters, so here’s where I picked up my most significant gifts for people.
 
The timing of our trip was a little difficult, just because we were so starved we didn’t want to wander the castle grounds any more, but the only place to eat is outside the exit.  So with some time to kill before the bus left, we walked into the town of Barney to the post for stamps and then wandered around the church graveyard.
 
From Blarney, we drove to Cobh (pronounced Cove), also known as Queenstown.  We stopped along the way at a graveyard where many victims from the Lusitania were buried and also a church that’s significance I never did grasp except that it was incredibly high spires and it looks out over the bay.
 
Cobh was a port where many Irish emigrants left for new worlds, and it was also the last port for the Titanic.  The historical exhibition at the old railway (which is still in service underneath the museum) was fascinating.  I snapped a picture of one of the plaques which I particularly liked that talked about how Irish women were encouraged to emigrate to Australia after so many convicts were shipped there and the ratio of men to women was so high.  The plaque stated: “They received a mixed reception and many were criticized for their poor training in domestic tasks and their lack of subservience.”  (For those unaware, I am of Irish descent and very much lack in subservience and domestic training.) 

 
LeeAnne and I had planned separate tours the next day.  She was going with the Railtours Ireland again to Galway bay.  This interested me, but getting up at 5:30 again did not.  I instead planned a shorter, cheaper, bus tour to Wicklow and Glendalough that would be a bit more of a nature hike and didn’t depart until 9:45.  She was tempted, but had already paid for the other tour.  We didn’t try to convince each other to abandon our plans, but did say we’d meet up at Temple Bar the next night.  (We were way too tired to do any drinking that night.)
 
I walked back from the station despite my tiredness because I wanted to walk along the Liffy (main river through Dublin).  I stopped at a Dunne Store and picked up some wonderful chicken salad, cheese, and crackers for dinner.  This is by far the cheapest and in some ways most fun way to eat while abroad.  It’s always interesting to see what foreign grocery stores carry, and many have delis with a few hot items as well.  I mostly ate in restaurants when I did because I was traveling alone and wanted to minimize the time I spent holed up in my hotel room.

One word of warning: bottled water is salted there.  I found this out from another tourist on the trip that day.  I hadn’t thought to look at the bottles – it’s water, right?  Both days I had felt a bit under the weather and thinking back there was a tight, sore tingling feeling in my hands and feet.  I’m used to drinking 96-160 oz. of straight water a day.  Not only was I not getting that amount, but it was partially dehydrating me as well.  Unfortunately, the tap water in my hotel room was not very tasty although this is not the rule and many people said they filled up just fine from the rooms.  I learned to ask for glasses of water everywhere, and check the salt content of any bottles I purchased.

(I do have pictures, even one of myself to prove I was there!  I’ll try to have them up by the end of the week, but it’s pretty hectic around here.  I did manage to get into my biology class, it starts tomorrow, and ST goes in for LASIK Wednesday so I’ll be playing nursemaid.)