UCSC Extension Multimedia and Web Design Certificate - Final Project

Project Plan: Erin Dreams

Elsa DieLöwin

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map of Wicklow area, Dublin south and west to Clonmel

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Erin Dreams

Clonmel
Scale 20 miles

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Cashel and Cork, Blarney Castle

Blarney Pilgrim
courtesy of ??

{text as below}

Journal text

 August 3, 1998

 Cashel is a modest town butted up against an enormous stone hill with a castle on top.

 We headed for Killarney via Cork. Rather than going through Tipperary, we cut south through Cahir, Mitchelstown and Cahir, though we didn't stop to explore the Mitchelstown caves.

 Though the real harbor is at Cobh (pronounced cove?), Cork still has a bit of a maritime feel to it. We passed through the town center before turning to park and found a space in what appeared to be a somewhat rundown section of town, right outside the Garda/police station. We looked at maps and then ventured on foot with some trepidation down the street to the bustling downtown. It felt more like Long Beach or Santa Ana, California circa 1967, than like Europe.

 It turns out that the shops along Cornmarket Street were closed due to it being another Bank Holiday. We found a couple of eateries mentioned in Lonely Planet, but instead opted to nip into a grocery for picnic supplies. Passing the brightly painted decor shop, mostly yellow with red and blue trim, banners and signage, we returned to the car and pressed on for Blarney Castle.

At Blarney, there is a ticket booth at the entrance, then a long gardened swath before one gets to the castle. The man at the gate hustled us through so fast that I didn't get a chance to buy the castle booklet. Krys was not heartbroken.

 There was also a stand where one could purchase pictures of oneself kissing the Blarney Stone for IR£15, assuming one did so. I supposed once given "the gift of blarney" that one might need to show proof. We ate out picnic lunch just inside from the gatehouse, then wandered through the beautiful and vivid garden up to the castle ruins.

 The climb up the spiral staircase was very slow because of the people waiting in line to kiss the stone. I took a picture upward, then opted out of the line with some 60 people still waiting ahead of us. Each person took about 12 to 15 seconds to get down and hang backward to give the kiss.

 When we left, we took a look at the tour busses and the traffic, and decided to try taking a minor road that was marked for Killarney. It was lovely.

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The Groves Blarney

by Richard Alfred Milliken
from A Book of Irish Verse,
ed. by W. B. Yeats (1895)
Dover Publications, Inc., 2001, page 6

The Groves of Blarney
They look so charming
Down by the purling
Of sweet, silent brooks,
Being banked with posies
That spontaneously grow there,
Planted in order
By the sweet rock close.

'Tis there's the daisy
And the sweet carnation,
The blooming pink,
And the rose so fair,
The daffydowndilly,
likewise the lily,
All flowers that scent
The sweet, fragrant air.

There's gravel walks there
For speculation
And conversation
In sweet solitude.
'Tis there the lover
May hear the dove, or
The gentle plover
In the afternoon;

And if a lady
Would be so engaging
As to walk alone in
Those shady bowers,
'Tis there the courtier
He may transport her
Into some fort, or
All under ground.