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3/15/2009
On Sunday morning, we took to the streets again, dragging our luggage back past St. Stephen's Green to the Aircoach bus stop. Since the rental car office was at the airport, we rode the bus back out of town and got dropped off right where we'd come in the day before. After some quick breakfast at an airport coffee shop, we hit the rental desk and hopped a van to the off-site parking lot. It was in that parking lot that we met our ride, a Ford Focus that would shortly be deemed The Great American Deathtrap.
From that point forward, we were off on our adventure, Tom sitting on the right with a steering wheel, while I sat on the left with nothing but a frightened expression. Paul, who always took the backseat when we went anywhere, was the only one who needed no adjustment.
The first hour of driving taught us how the rest of the week would go. Besides an initial interstate, we were typically dealing with two lanes per direction at best. More often there was just two lanes, period, which sent cars barreling towards us on crazy country roads at 100 kph (roughly 70mph). Tom would respond by veering more to the left, at which point I'd remind him that the Irish phrase for "shoulder of the road" is "big stone wall" and he'd straighten out. Rinse, repeat. This is how the Deathtrap got her name.
Our plans for the first day were to take in the town of Waterford and the factory where the crystal was made, then driving up to Kilkenny to find our hostel.
The drive into Waterford was gorgeous, as the only way into town is a single bridge over the river. While you cross, you near a beautiful row of buildings facing the water, with the rest of the town continuing behind them. Throughout the town, we pointed out the surrounding architecture, while following signs for the factory out the other side of town.
Tom had heard a rumor that the Waterford factory was shut down due to the recession and sadly, the rumors were true. While not fully closed, they weren't running tours; in fact, several workers were staging a sit-in. Angry signs abounded, including cafeteria menus offering a bullshit sandwich compliments of the Irish prime minister. It was a bad scene.
Instead of a tour, they sat us in some chairs in the lobby and put on, no joke, a 30-minute video about the crystal-making process, which was still enlightening. The amazing thing about Waterford crystal is that there aren't any low quality pieces. If a piece isn't perfect, absolutely perfect, then they smash it to be melted back down.
After looking at some of the pieces they had on display, including a crystal grandfather clock, we headed out, a little sick to our stomachs from the experience. Luckily, though, we found parking in town as well as a fun pub called the Wacky Apple, where we relaxed and watched some rugby. It was then we found out that Ireland would be playing Wales the next Saturday for what's called the Grand Slam of 6 Nations League Rugby, which is beating all of the other teams. It was a huge deal, because Ireland hadn't done it in 61 years. Consider that Chekov’s rugby match.
Guinness Count: 9
We walked down to the harbor, or the quay (pronounced "key") and strolled around a waterside park until deciding to hit yet another pub.
Guinness Count: 10
Finally, we had some bad fried chicken from some weird KFC knockoff and, at long last, made our way out of town.
It was dark by the time we got to Kilkenny, but it only really became a problem when we passed through town and began looking for our hostel, Foulksrath Castle.
Yep, this would be our big awesome night in a castle/hostel, but unfortunately, even castles are hard to find off a pitch-black road in the middle of Ireland. We missed our turn once, doubled back and eventually found the driveway. The castle was a single, tall tower of stones, imposing even on the dark night sky. Once inside, we saw a few people chatting in an amazing dining room with stone walls, big wooden tables, and shields hanging along the sides. Across the way was a kitchen and right in front of us, a spiral stone staircase disappeared around the bed. Taking it up, we found the front desk, where it said to ring the bell for service. We spent 5 minutes looking for a little ding-ding hotel bell until I went back into the staircase and found a big, brass, clang-clang bell. After we rang, a young woman came down and checked us in, saying "Male dorm room 3, allllll the way at the top. The bathroom is off the kitchen, alllll the way at the bottom."
The top meant the freakin' top; five floors later, we were in our room, a big'un with six sets of bunkbeds and narrow windows that looked out into the gloom. There were already a three fellow travelers, so we introduced ourselves. Turns out they were from Virginia themselves! After exchanging pleasantries, they said they'd be trying to venture back into the city, which was tempting. On the one hand, we were tired, but it was also only 8-o'clock and there didn't seem to be much to do in the castle. Still, we told them to have fun and stuck around.
Soon after we settled in, I went down to the bathroom and, on my way back up, I was greeted by the residents of the womens' room, two girls our age from California and one older (maybe late 30s?) woman from Tennessee. We chatted for a while on the stairs and they said they too would be heading in to Kilkenny, but just to get some food. I said goodbye and went allllll the way back to our room.
Sadly, when I got there, Tom and Paul informed me that Kilkenny Castle is closed on Mondays...i.e. the next day. Seriously? MONDAY?
Feeling like we'd soon be 0 for 2 on the sights we planned to see, we took our guidebooks and journals down to the awesome dining room and set up shop for the evening.
Luckily, the California girls soon returned and joined us around the long dining room table, followed by the Virginia trio. We all shared traveling stories, our backgrounds, and pretty much whatever until it rounded midnight and we decided to turn in.
So it was that, in the middle of Ireland, in a freakin' castle, stranded from the city, we actually had a pretty cool night.
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