We're in the Bru hostel. We arrived in Cork yesterday afternoon to lovely weather - balmy and spring like. The hostel, Bru, is not too bad - worth a few asteroids, if not stars. It's clean and quiet (if you're not in the bar) and we are sharing our room with a couple of young women from New Orleans.
(What does 'bru' mean?) It's right in the middle of the city, but from our walk last night, I'd guess that this side of the river is less salubrious than the other, which seems to be the shopping side.
We walked past the Cork Opera House, 
which was advertising Spanish Harlem that evening and strolled though a square , where we could hear the birds' evening chorus, round a church and onto the main street. We found a couple of alley ways, the Huguenot quarter, where there were a number of cafes and restaurants. We got ourselves some pasta in one.
The air was still warm as we wandered back to the hostel, avoiding the cheerful drunks, “are ye off for the night? one inquired of daughter. We bought a box of chamomile tea, and brewed up in the hostel kitchen, played with my new eeepc a bit, but haven't got the wi-fi up yet, then retired to bed in our two bunk, i.e. four berth room with a couple of women from New Orleans, Julie and Susan.
We visited
Blarney Castle. Baloney and Blarney. What's the difference? It seems baloney's where you say something flattering that is obviously untrue, like telling a 50 year old that she looks 18, but blarney is more realistic flattery. And today daughter kissed the Blarney Stone, which is supposed to make the kisser eloquent; she spent the rest of the afternoon telling me I was huggable.
We wandered round the fascinating grounds in spring sunshine, following the 'rock trail' that is supposed to show us the witch's steps and kitchen, ancient stones and formations of circles. Here's a picture of the witch's stone.
In the woodland and pathways, I was delighted to see spring flowers that I haven't seen for decades: ladies smock, marsh marigolds and wild garlic. I nibbled a fresh leaf.
Then we caught a mid afternoon bus back to the city in time to return to the
English market. We'd visited it in the morning and found the huge variety of butchers, green grocers (with fresh turmeric even), grocers and fishmongers. We bought whiting, mushrooms and rice to prepare for supper in the hostel kitchen, and stopped for tea and cake in the cafe. We found a variety of fascinating small shops in the alleys near Patrick's Street, including a
glass designer - and I would really like some of this to lighten our windowless bathroom.
After dumping our shopping in the hostel, we strolled up to University College, round the campus a little, and back to Fin Barr's Cathedral, its gold glinting in the evening sun.
Now our feet are really tired. I wonder how much walking we'll do tomorrow because we're thinking of visiting Kinsale.
