two pints in
I went out to dinner again tonight.
Honestly, it's not something I plan to do very often, but I'm not really invested in cooking at this hostel in Cork -- I'm not really invested in this hostel at all, besides monetarily, for my room -- and anyway, today I took the bus to Kinsale and of course I had to sample some of their famous seafood. It's been four hours since I finished dinner, for the record, and I am still ridiculously full: I made it worth it.
Because there are approximately a dozen decent-seeming restaurants in Kinsale, and because I am generally inclined to go by others' recommendations when it comes to these things, I contrived to ask three different people which places they each thought I should go. The woman at the Tourist Office was the least helpful, interestingly enough. I then went into two different shops (and bought things, a book of poetry by John O'Donohue, and two skeins of Irish wool), and as I was paying explained that I was visited, and asked where I should eat for dinner. Both shopkeepers recommended Jim Edwards, and the second shopkeeper even went so far as to walk me down the street and point me in the right direction. He explained that that was where he liked to go, when it wasn't Lent. Last year, he added, his wife caught him drinking twice over Lent and grounded him for six months.
Well, I'm not keeping Lenten vows and so had no qualms over ordering a pint of Guinness. My second in Ireland, so far! And it is better here, wow. I'd become quite disillusioned with Guinness in the US, because it tastes like gross water there (and I like stouts). Not so here. This is the genuine article. Thank goodness.
I also had seafood chowder and seafood au gratin, and then proceeded to roll myself back to the bus stop in time to catch the coach back here to Cork.
But oh man my knees are aching. What am I, getting old? I hiked about five miles today, and I am feeling it, oof. (Okay so I also walked around yesterday, and hiked a mountain the day before, and some cliffs the day before that, and the day before that tore through Dublin with too-heavy bags...)
Tomorrow I am (hopefully, if the weather's good) taking a ferry to an island. Where there is probably no Internet. So if you don't hear from me until Tuesday, don't worry! I foresee being totally fine!
Okay, I need to get to bed.
But before I do,
Me on the spinc, the tall pointy mountain, right before I took the short-cut trail down through the forest and back to the visitor's center. I do have more photos, but I won't be getting them up tonight.
Anyway, see you on the flip-side!
Honestly, it's not something I plan to do very often, but I'm not really invested in cooking at this hostel in Cork -- I'm not really invested in this hostel at all, besides monetarily, for my room -- and anyway, today I took the bus to Kinsale and of course I had to sample some of their famous seafood. It's been four hours since I finished dinner, for the record, and I am still ridiculously full: I made it worth it.
Because there are approximately a dozen decent-seeming restaurants in Kinsale, and because I am generally inclined to go by others' recommendations when it comes to these things, I contrived to ask three different people which places they each thought I should go. The woman at the Tourist Office was the least helpful, interestingly enough. I then went into two different shops (and bought things, a book of poetry by John O'Donohue, and two skeins of Irish wool), and as I was paying explained that I was visited, and asked where I should eat for dinner. Both shopkeepers recommended Jim Edwards, and the second shopkeeper even went so far as to walk me down the street and point me in the right direction. He explained that that was where he liked to go, when it wasn't Lent. Last year, he added, his wife caught him drinking twice over Lent and grounded him for six months.
Well, I'm not keeping Lenten vows and so had no qualms over ordering a pint of Guinness. My second in Ireland, so far! And it is better here, wow. I'd become quite disillusioned with Guinness in the US, because it tastes like gross water there (and I like stouts). Not so here. This is the genuine article. Thank goodness.
I also had seafood chowder and seafood au gratin, and then proceeded to roll myself back to the bus stop in time to catch the coach back here to Cork.
But oh man my knees are aching. What am I, getting old? I hiked about five miles today, and I am feeling it, oof. (Okay so I also walked around yesterday, and hiked a mountain the day before, and some cliffs the day before that, and the day before that tore through Dublin with too-heavy bags...)
Tomorrow I am (hopefully, if the weather's good) taking a ferry to an island. Where there is probably no Internet. So if you don't hear from me until Tuesday, don't worry! I foresee being totally fine!
Okay, I need to get to bed.
But before I do,
Me on the spinc, the tall pointy mountain, right before I took the short-cut trail down through the forest and back to the visitor's center. I do have more photos, but I won't be getting them up tonight.
Anyway, see you on the flip-side!