"Give it a good pash then, girls!"

   Limerick is lovely!  I really adore the campus, I love my room, the people are great, and the city isn't too far.  

   Last weekend I went on a homestay to a small town near Kilmallock.  It was really relaxing and interesting.  My family owned a farm with about 50 cows.  The husband, Dom, was an ex-hurling champ (as in the sport, not the gag-reflex) who taught me about rugby and Gaelic football.  The wife, Doreen, took us shopping and made awesome amounts of delicious food.  I thoroughly enjoyed my time with them, and developed a very Irish weakness for tea and soda bread. 

   But this weekend, Kim, Katie, Lauren, and I decided to go explore some more of what Ireland has to offer by hopping a bus to Cork on Saturday.  It was a bit of a struggle on Saturday morning.  Kim and I had a sleepover (like the awesome 20-year-olds we are) on Friday night and ended up being late to catch our first bus, so we practically sprinted across campus to the bus stop.  A bunch of us had gone out on Thursday night to the Lodge and I hadn't really recovered sleep-wise yet.  I'm just not used to going to bed at three.  It doesn't suit me.

   After being on the bus to Cork for about 10 minutes, I was fully passed out - mouth hanging wide open, not a care in the world.  When we arrived, we navigated our way to our lovely little hostel which happened to be perched atop the HILL OF DEATH.  I swear, this street was at like, a 45-degree angle.  Poor city planning, if you ask me.  I had to lean forward like a hunchback to counteract the weight of my backpack, which was threatening to send me tumbling down the hill backwards. 

   After ditching our bags in the hostel's luggage room, we four walked back to the bus station and bought our tickets to Blarney.  This town is pretty adorable, and only about a 20-minute ride from Cork.  When we arrived, we followed the über-tourist-friendly "This way to Blarney Castle" signs to the Castle grounds.  The whole place - from the crumbling castle, to the green fields, to the little stream running around it all - was absolutely gorgeous.  I don't know how people can live or work in such a beautiful place everyday.

I mean, this is just ridiculous.

   We wandered around the castle for a bit, taking pictures of just about every blade of grass, and then turned into the castle.  From here my memory gets a little hazy, due to my fear-inspired adrenaline poisoning caused by climbing the super-tiny, winding stairs all the way up this huge castle.  I felt like I was going to fall backwards and tumble down all the stairs, or that maybe after hundreds of years, the stones in the wall would finally give way and would come crashing down to the ground.  And it really didn't help that the castle was made for Hobbit-sized olden-days Irish folk, because 5-foot 9 me was too tall for half the passageways in this ancient death-trap. 

   But we did make it up, followed by a couple of patient (but by then, probably also hard-of-hearing, thanks to the high-pitched panic of Lauren, Kim, and I) Australians guys. When we reached the top, the view was pretty amazing - not that I got exactly close enough to the edges on the battlements to look down and around all that often.  My sight was predominantly aimed downwards, towards my feet, in order to avoid tripping over anything that might cause a sudden and unavoidable fall to my death.

   Kissing the Blarney Stone was kind of the most terrifying experience ever.  I think the Australians were trying to ease the situation for us idiot-Americans when they told us to "give it a good pash then, girls."  I had no idea what this mean - but thanks to urbandictionary.com I have come to know that is is a kind of abbreviation for "passionate" and basically means to french-kiss.  In order to kiss this piece of rock, which is sticking out of the BOTTOM of the battlementy-thing in the wall, you lie on your back, hold onto two rails while a guy helps you slide back- and downwards. 

   Oh, and right below you is a gigantic drop that would end your life.  Never.  Again.  And then when I got up I tripped and almost fell down into the castle.  The camera-guy steadied me and had a good chuckle at my expense.  And I had been so careful.

   We then wandered the grounds some more.  I became obsessed with the trees here, climbed a few, frolicked across a grassy knoll, and saw the gorgeous Blarney house.  

   Eventually we went back to Cork, wandered around the shops, and ate a delicious meal at a little restaurant we found.  Then, because we were basically exhausted from the day, we went back to our hostel and were all passed out by 10 PM.  Yeah, we're livin' the life.

Our cute room.

The view by night, before we went to bed atrociously early.

   This morning we wandered around Cork some more, going to see the old Elizabeth Fort-turned-Garda station, along with Saint Fin Barre's Cathedral.  

Cork Street

   We shopped some more, wandered aimlessly for a while, then got back on a bus to Limerick.  It's good to be back, and it's really started to feel like home.