We felt quite refreshed when we left Killarney (apart from Annabel being saddle sore). Plus we only had a mere 83 miles to travel today. Our first stop was Blarney Castle. It hadn't occurred to us that it was bank holiday Monday in Ireland and the place was teaming with tourists. We waited patiently in a very long queue, only to find that they only accepted cash and we were all out of euros. Thankfully, two very nice ladies in front of us offered to wait while Anni ran back to the car for some sterling and then exchanged it for euros.I did suggest, very politely, that it would have been helpful to have put a cash only sign at the beginning of the queue, to which the lady replied, "Oh tell me about it~ you have no idea how many times I have suggested that." Once inside the grounds, we were treated to a yarn bomb fest. Several of the trees had been yarn bombed, which I love. In fact I think my crafty-talented niece, Laura, should come and yarn bomb our trees. Just as we photographed them and walked past, someone came along to take it all down. Apparently it had been done for a festival. The theme of the day was turning out to be excellent timing!
The queue to the top of the castle was also very long but we had some amusing information to read on the way. Anni couldn't believe the concept of the oubliette, where unwelcome visitors stepped on to a trap step which led to a dungeon, where they were forgotten.
We appreciated the Irish approach to health and safety (much more lax than ours it would seem, hence no ugly mesh obscuring the view from the castle's windows). However the staircase got a bit narrow and scary at times.
Our objective was to kiss the Blarney stone, which, we hadn't realised, was at the very top of the castle.
Neither had we realised that it was a very bad idea to wear dresses that day, as you end up having to lie down facing the whole queue of people. It took some very careful ladylike manoeuvres I can tell you! You can only take photographs from one side, so that they can make sure you have to pay 10 euros for the best shots, 18 if you want the before and during photos. Interestingly they did take cards for that, not that we indulged.
Anni went first.
You have to hold on to two bars and lie back, while someone holds you steady. You can just about see the drop beneath my head. It was even more scary afterwards, when we saw it from the outside.
So we did it.
As well as the yarn bombing, I rather liked this bench. I would rather like one of our own, with Maison Mellish on it.
From there we headed to our next accommodation, a yurt in Kinsale. I had been very much looking forward to this (as a happy glamper) and I was not disappointed. The adventure began when Diana, the owner (pronounced Dee-anna) came to collect us in her golf buggy. They have a private road leading to the yurt and like to keep it traffic free. The yurt is in its own private garden and is absolutely perfect. This is the inside.
From the foot of the bed, there is a stunning view of the sea, There are no curtains; you fall asleep watching the sun set over the sea.
It has its own funky sink. (I am a bit of a fan of funky sinks).
It was just absolute perfection, so tranquil and such a great place to relax and read. Anni was one happy little bookworm.
This was me, standing looking at the yurt on the decking.
This was our view from the deck.
We had our own private bathroom, with yet another funky sink. No more eco toilets either. Although I did have to do a spider sweep whenever Anni wanted to use it.
It just got better. As we settled in, Diana brought us a lovely welcome snack of home made waffles with blueberries. We sat in the outdoor dining room and ate our delicious waffles, looking out to sea and thinking, "This is the life."
Later we wandered into Kinsale and found a really nice little bistro for dinner, called The Shack.
When we came back our yurt looked really cosy in the twilight.
This was the view of Kinsale bay from the yurt's garden. We could also hear some great live music from across the bay.
I was already thinking how much I would like to return here one day with Peter. I think he would love it, although he would have had to go and be in the middle of wherever that music was coming from.
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