Blarney

The stream flowed between the two hills down from the cliff where the castle sat. The water was blue and sparkling in the sun, running slowly by the green grass. The dirt path followed the stream for a while, and then crossed over on a bridge. Once over the bridge, one found plenty of flowers growing alongside the path. These flowers were pretty but had no name except for the daffodils which I recognized. For once, the sky above was clear and the sun shone down on the soft green fields and trees. I soaked it all in as I strolled towards the castle on the short cliff.

The castle was obviously the main attraction of the site. But on such a day as this, the landscape drew ones attention at least as much. But unlike the flowers and grass, the castle had been there hundreds of years. The winters weathered the face of the stones but it didn’t kill the structure like the greenery. And so it was that Blarney Castle sat obdurately upon the hill. Its walls rose straight from the rock face, blending smoothly into cut stones.

As I walked into the castle’s shadow, the path turned again. It went left along the rock face which held the dungeon caves. Ahead my eyes found the old watch tower, now nearly a ruin. Still, it stood prominently beside the creek. Inside, it was a hollow tube of masonry, the floors long since gone. Leaving the cool darkness of the aged tower, I continued on the path which led to the castle entrance.

Climbing sets of steps, I found myself at the base of the keep. My face turned up to the sky, I stared up at the smooth stone walls and turrets framed by the clear blue sky. It was both impressive and beautiful. I looked down again and found the entrance gate to the right. Passing through it, I read the signs in English. The signs told me to continue and that I had just stepped over a medieval trap door. Had I been there as an enemy a few hundred years previously, I’d have been dead. And no doubt greatly surprised.

Finding the stone door into the keep, I stepped in. I had to let my eyes adjust to the darkness. Then I saw that I was in a large empty room labeled as the main hall. There were stairs to my left and I took them up and deeper into the castle. I could already feel the history of this place and a smile was on my face. As I went deeper, I discovered more rooms and chambers of many uses and designs. Higher I climbed on narrow stone steps, looking through slit windows at the sunlit landscape. I paused for at least a few minutes in each room, inspecting it and imaging the way it once was. I not only saw what it was then, but also what it once was. Intrigue and wonder filled my mind.

I barely made it through the last, narrowest, stairway but I arrived at the top. The sun warmed my face again. All around was laid before me the lands and nearby town of Blarney. I stood atop the stone wall and looked down into the heart of castle into the feasting hall below. Across this gap I observed a fellow tourist kissing the Blarney Stone.

Two native Irishmen assisted the tourist in this process. Once she lay down, they helped slide her out over the empty space between the wall and the crenellations. For that brief time, she hung halfway out over a hundred foot drop to the ground. When she bent over backwards, I only saw her legs and feet. She was held safely by the old Irish pensioner while the other Irishman took a picture. Tourism had clearly taken its affect here.

When it came my turn, I certainly didn’t object to being assisted. I’m not very afraid of heights but they do make me nervous. The old man held me and I bent over backwards over the precipice. I planted my lips on the cold Blarney Stone built into the crenellation and heard the click of the camera. I sat back up with the help of the man and gathered my belongings. Standing, I dug in my pockets and tipped them a two-Euro coin and thanked them kindly.

I walked along the wall a few paces then stood in one spot and looked all around me again. I took several pictures of the rolling green land and Blarney town through the copses of trees. I was happy and content. I savored the feeling and the experience. I knew this was special. I had just done one of the main things I went to Ireland to do. My journey wasn’t over yet though. Blarney was just one stop along the winding road through the beautiful green land of mystery and whimsical wonder that is Ireland.