Cork in Photo

I Corcaigh in éineacht le Muintir

I received a phone call around 2.00pm, which in itself was strange since I usually get text messages rather than actual calls, to find that my parents were already lost in Cork, standing outside the Waterstone’s on Patrick Street borrowing someone’s cell phone in order to contact me. I lugged on my shoes and headed out to greet them for the first time in three months. Really, not much had changed, but I had forgotten mom’s penchant for wearing fleece jackets and dad’s grey beard.

It had been a long drive from Dublin airport that morning and hard time finding me, much less their B&B, so we found the car parked over Tesco and went in search of the small, but comfortable B&B by the train station where my parents had a room. After a much needed nap (on all sides) we finally received a call from Barbara and David who had arrived in Cork as well, after an extra night in Dingle.

We met for dinner at a place called Bully’s by the Tesco- an area ripe with small café’s and restaurants that I have to admit I have rarely explored. It was a pleasant meal as we planned the next day, repeat with Cork’s most famous sights.

In truth, Cork’s not a very touristy city, and I like this about it. Whereas in Dublin tourist busses and people with cameras are a common sight, in Cork there’s not much more than the Beamish & Crawford Brewery (which was not open for tours yet) or the Butter Museum (yes, it does exist.) So we went up to see the UCC campus, fresh and green in the coming spring, and all the things contained therein; the Honan Chapel’s famous mosaic floors and the Gluckman Gallery’s newest exhibition, the quad and the seal and the Ogham Stones that line the hall of the Alus Maximus.

Afterwards we drove back into the city to see the English Market and buy loaves of fresh bread and scones and eat lunch at the FarmGate, a café situated over on a terrace, overlooking the market fountain. It was a good meal, but to top it off I decided to show then O’Conaill Chocolatier- famous around Cork for their supurb melted hot chocolate (my favorite being the dark chocolate) complete with little chocolate-pieces and enough to fill you up even if you haven’t just eaten a full lunch. Gourmet dessert in a glass.

After an afternoon nap around the apartment, and a though cleaning of the kitchen by mom, we ate that evening at the Boqureia, a trendy little tapas place over the north river. While the seating was minimal, the wine was good, as was the food, salmon tartar and all. After dinner we took to find a pub where we could continue the evening, eventually wandering into a place a bit down the road for a final drink before we parted to get some sleep, ready for tomorrow’s journey.

While Barbara and David’s trip was over, mom and dad’s had just begun. The journey up to Galway took me back past the Cliffs of Moher and Poulnabrone on the Burren, this time the day being warm and sunny. From there we wound up to Galway where we stopped at our next B&B before heading out to dinner. It was amazing how much of the city I remembered after merely a weekend there three months before, but at the same time I had walked much of the city, again and again, and in the coming spring it was brighter, but still very much the same.

Flowers blooming at the Cliffs of Moher.

We took time in Galway to tour the Connemara, stopping at Kylemore Abbey along the way. The country was greener in the spring, although still holding on to visages of brown grass on the hillsides. At the abbey the gardens were now open, and while the plants weren’t yet at peak, it still had spots of color, the brick walls enclosing the perfectly planned grounds while beyond the mountains rose to the sky, overcast but not raining. I love the Victorian atmosphere of Kylemore, and while the glass houses are no longer standing the gardens retain much of that style. Grandiose and styled.

Purple lantern flowers at Kylemore Gardens.

We wound back around the Connemara, seeing the country, around the Twelve Bens, and back to Galway. It’s really an all-day trip, but when we returned we took a drive around the city square and went for dinner at a pub/restaurant near the shopping corner, where the same pedal-cars were available for hire as in February, and minimal crowds hung around the doors to pubs in the usual haze of cigarette-smoke and conversation. It is things like this that I will miss most about Ireland.

The next day was spent cutting across the Irish interior on the way to Dublin. New highways are a fine addition to the Irish infrastructure, but they are few and far-between, so small roads showed us the way, with minor stops to see if any of a number of minor Irish castles were open since mom had never been in one before. We stopped at two, but were out of luck thanks once again to the unopened tourist season, and while seeing them from outside was beautiful, it was not the full castle experience.

Around 2.00 we rolled into Dublin, which is quite frankly a small city all things considered- smaller even than Baltimore- but still the largest in Ireland and full of traffic. Passing the Guinness Brewery, we pulled up to the bus station I remembered so well from my previous weekend there. Managing to catch the 2.00 bus, I said goodbye to my parents and wished them well on their final two days in the country, touring Dublin city, while I took the four-hour ride back to Cork to prepare for my upcoming journey to the Continent.

A Little Something About the Nightlife

With a drinking age of 18 and at least three universities in the near vicinity, Cork has a nightlife that, while in itself is rather small, is entirely new to me, the girl who goes to school in little old Chestertown with its two (rather pitiful) bars and no clubs to be spoken of.

Here there are pubs at every corner, more than even my little guidebook can count. I’ve only been to a handful so far, but of those I’ve been enough times. There’s the Monday night Franciscan Well, with live music and a selection of specialty brews- the very same place I went my first night here. It’s a nice, warm pub where people can sit and talk and I like that I don’t need to dress up to go there. Also that’s it’s an easy distance from the apartment.

On Tuesday there’s Cavanaugh’s, a younger, more upbeat place with live music every night. But truthfully they cater to a more inebriated crowd, with old pop songs everyone knows and inevitably ends up singing. From there we can usually snag free passes to Club Classic, which is as the name suggests, a classic nightclub; no more, no less, with neon lights and the usual dance beats you see on MTV. It’s not a bad place, but without a pass the cover is much too expensive for what you’re getting.

On Wednesday after English Lit we head over to the Old College Bar, an on-campus pub and venue for sponsored gigs with a big-screen wall usually showing some rugby game. The wooden tables are all marked up and in all, it looks like what you’d think a well-patroned college bar would. It’s usually pretty subdued on Wednesdays, but that’s not bad, it’s a good place to talk.

From there we head down to An Brog, arguably the most popular college hang-out in all of Cork. I like this pub probably more than any of the others. It hosts sometimes live, sometimes DJ’d rock music, a place to dance, and a million nooks and crannies to get away from the bustle. There’s something in the atmosphere that just says, “yes, this place works.” If I’m willing to make it a long evening we’ll head up to Freakscene afterwards, a club situated over the Brog where the music is a bit more diverse, playing everything from 80s classics, to modern rock, to Britney Spears. It’s the oldest running nightclub in Cork and so far my favorite as well. It’s not like the Classic, which to me seems to be trying to hard to be suave. Here there’s music that, while it may not quite be mainstream, you can dance to it. That works for me.

At this point I should probably issue a disclaimer, seeing as I’ve outlined my week by the pubs and clubs I’ve frequented. While a few of my flatmates are very much into dressing up and heading out each night, often I’m just as content to curl up with a glass of wine and a movie. With all the options though, it can be tough to strike a balance. Usually I limit myself to one outing per week, or I’ll hit up a pub with them, but come home before the club as there’s always someone else who forgoes the dance scene as well.

What’s interesting about the Cork nightlife though is that its height is during the weekdays. Even with classes the next morning I have seen the girls out until 2am or later, and most UCC students seem to follow the same pattern. It is true that most local Irish students go home during the weekend, so I suppose it makes sense that the weekdays would be crowded, but it is the opposite of what I expected.

This week is especially lively, as it’s UCCs annual “Raising and Giving Week,” affectionately called RAG. The college, in conjunction with school societies and certain venues, puts on a host of parties and activities, which usually amount to another excuse to go out. All the money goes to selected charities and all the students show up drunk for class- or don’t show up at all. The English Department has even cancelled all lectures for this week in order to host “make-up exams” for last semester, which leaves me with only one class this week and more than enough time to have some fun.