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Day Four: Cork
sword
tiger_spot
Everyone started the day mad at everyone else. We'd made plans to meet and go ashore at 9:00, then Andrés realized that we'd actually be in port earlier than that and moved them up to 8:00. Unfortunately, C & C were already asleep and didn't see the note he left until just about 8:00, so they were annoyed at us for moving up the plans, I was annoyed at the parents for not being at the meeting point on time, and the parents were annoyed at us for being quite so vocal about wanting to spend as little time on the ship as possible.

Once we left the ship, we discovered that we were not actually in Cork, but rather in Cobh (pronounced Cove), a sort of commuter suburb. We took the light rail up to Cork proper and wandered about for a while, using the cruise ship-provided map to zero in on the English Market, which sounded like the sort of thing that might be in an interesting downtown area. Indeed, near the market we found the tourist office, where we picked up a better map and 6 postcards.

We walked more or less west along the north bank of the river, then back along the south bank. The English Market was all food stalls in an enclosed brick area. It looked a lot like Seattle's Pike Place. Cork as a whole looks suprisingly like San Francisco, although with darker colors, fewer bay windows, and narrower streets. And of course more churches, a few of which we viewed. Somewhere in there a scruffy little dog followed us around for a half an hour or so. He had tags, so I assume he knew where he was going.

The western point of our loop was the old gaol, where we took an audio tour around the preserved cells with mannequins representing a variety of sample prisoners. On the way back, we went through some gardens (lovely roses) and along the river, where we saw a seal! I was trying to figure out if it was a log or a giant turtle when it turned and looked at us. Then it dove under the water and didn't come up again while we were looking. I didn't expect to see a seal up the river by the railway station!

Lunch was at a place called Tony's Bistro, which was a bit odd. Vegetable lasagna doesn't normally have two kinds of beans in it (kidney and those big white ones), nor quite so much cheddar cheese. It was rather reminiscent of the Massachusetts "cheese enchilada" that produced my rule about eating Mexican food north of the Mason-Dixon line (don't), being almost wholly unrelated to the foodstuff in the name and served in an individual casserole dish. Fairly tasty, though, even if not particularly lasagna-like. Everything came with fries (called such on the menu), and the fries came with every dipping sauce known to man.



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Yay picture! It looks like a quite pleasant hill, at least. And the hills in the background are somewhat odd, in that way of many hills, in not having very many trees on them. (This was something I remember finding particularly odd in South Dakota on our cross-country trip; the hills there had roads that sort of wound around over them in a way that was very reminiscent of the roads and hills at home in Virginia, except that the roads ended up on top of the hills, in a way that roads that are under trees very much don't; it was exceedingly strange for such a simple difference. But I digress....)

Fries sound like quite an odd side to go with vegetable lasagna. Though perhaps less so for one with beans and cheddar cheese in it.

I still think that picture makes you look like you're about to do some kind of mafia business.

Hah! I've outed you! Mafia scum.

AAH! Ireland!

*stares as if hypnotized*

Should I ever make it there, I will probably spend my first day standing there and staring in utter disbelief that I made it.

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