Saturday's Post

I’m writing this Saturday evening at the B&B in Killarney, although I won’t be able to post it until… Wednesday?  Next Saturday?  Internet does not seem to be, you know, a thing in Ireland.

This morning I slept surprisingly late – at least, *I* was surprised when I checked my watch upon waking and found it was 8:49 a.m.  But I guess I shouldn’t been; I haven’t been sleeping all that much or all that well, so I was due for it.  I made tracks out of the hostel and caught the 9:30 bus to Killarney; after about 90 minutes of scenic riding I arrived.  It was a bit disorienting because my guidebook doesn’t have much in the way of coverage here and the bus station is not in an obviously central location, but I found the center of town quickly enough.  After dropping off my bag at the bike tour’s meeting point, I ducked into the coffee shop around the corner.  I briefly considered not doing so, since it didn’t seem like the most super-optimal coffee shop, but decided that, since I hadn’t eaten or had any coffee yet, I should go for the easy option over the perfect one.  This turned out to be a very good idea.

After having a scone (good, but not as transcendent as yesterday’s) and a cup of coffee, I set off to explore the town.  The first thing I saw was a bookstore, and – convinced that possibly Southwestern Ireland might be the Land of No Books, I went inside and bought a book.  (I also bought a book in Cork, so I now have three books in my possession, the first of which I am halfway through, and have finished and discarded three magazines and any number of local papers).  Of course, Southwestern Ireland is actually lousy with books, and there were (at least) three other bookstores in Killarney, but this was the best one so if I was going to buy a book it was good that I bought it there.  It is, however, the Land of No Cash Machines; there were three total cash machines in town, I think, and all the tourists were being directed to the same one.

After walking the length of the town, going into a few other stores, and seeing a couple of the historic government and religious buildings, I set out for Ross Castle.  It was a nice walk through the outskirts of Killarney and a wooded area, and the castle is on a beautiful lake.  I just walked around the castle – there was a tour to go inside, but my book called it tedious (some other girls on the tour did go inside, and they said it was interesting enough).  There were also boat trips to go to an island in the middle of the river, but they seemed rather disorganized and understated, so instead I sat by the lake and read for a bit.

By the time I got back to town, I was quite hungry.  There were a lot of pubs in Killarney, and proper restaurants, but not really a lot of coffee shops or places to get a snack.  Eventually I stumbled on Murphy’s, an ice cream shop from Dingle that my guidebook mentioned.  I tried the sea salt ice cream (weird but not good) and settled on the chocolate and caramel.  It was good, inferior to most of the ice cream I had in France but still far superior to most American ice cream.  Then I walked around a bit more, shopping (not with any intent to buy) and looking for provisions to stock up on, and then sat in a courtyard by a playground and read for a while before it was time for the tour group to meet up.

The tour group met in a hotel, where we had an introduction to the trip before a somewhat fancy and not very good dinner.  (I’m terrible at ordering, of course; too often, I get what I think I should get rather than what I actually want.  This time I had what was basically a fancy version of fish and chips.  Since I’m not very fond of either fish or chips, it’s not surprising that I wasn’t thrilled with this meal.  However, it wasn’t bad, and now I can say I had it once in Ireland and I do not need to have it again.  Also, really, nothing on the menu was very interesting and much of it was a lot more expensive, so there were not really any great choices.  During the meal, I met the other people on the trip – there are twelve of us, which is a nice number, enough that you’re not forced to be with the same couple people all the time, but not an unwieldy amount – including the woman who will be my roommate for the next several nights.  Finally, we departed for our guesthouses; we’re split up, and my half the group is at a guesthouse run by an exceptionally friendly middle-aged woman.  The guesthouse does not have internet, so hopefully nobody is expecting to hear from me anytime soon.