Ireland Day 4

         We finally were able to see the interior of  Kilkenny Castle this morning, and what an interior it is!  The restoration work is amazing in its attention to detail and its faithfulness to the original rooms as they existed when the Butler family lived there.  The extravagance of the times was reflected even in the wallpaper, much of which had been hand painted as far away as China.  This is a place that even Bill Gates would have had difficulty building—room after room of specially commissioned art, furnishings and bookcases imported from faraway lands, specially constructed and elaborately decorated roof supports, the likes of which we had never seen.

                              Kilkenny Castle from the grounds

         Photos were absolutely prohibited, but one of the visitors there was so put out about having been denied entry yesterday that she took several photos while no one was looking.  I struck up a conversation with the woman and she allowed me to download a couple of the photos.  Honest.  Cross my heart.  Here’s one of them:

                                          Inside Kilkenny Castle

         Departing the castle, we headed for Cashel, traveling the back roads with Tricia navigating and directing Charlie to stop for each photogenic scene.  And there are plenty of such scenes in Ireland.  Apparently, several centuries ago all the homes, castles, and churches were deserted and left to weather away.  Where did they all go?  Was it the potato famine?  The British invasions?  The many rebellions?  Whatever the reason, they left hundreds of old stone buildings along the back roads, every single one of which cried out to be photographed—along with numberless hillside scenes of rolling fields of flowers and green.  At least in the opinion of one person in our group.  So the one hour drive to Cashel turned out to take about two and a half hours.  But seeing the Rock of Cashel as we rounded the final bend into town made the wait worthwhile.

                                             Rock of Cashel

          Cashel is a town with a big hill topped by a historic and famous series of structures known as the Rock of Cashel, a site of great historical and architectural significance.   Like some people, the Rock of Cashel has a nickname.  Actually, it is known by several names:  Cashel of the Kings, St. Patrick's Rock, and Carraig Phádraig  (pronounce that one for us, please).  Here the High King of Munster was allegedly converted by St. Patrick in the 5th Century, perhaps over a few pints at the local pub.  Here stand many ancient and important structures, including the Romanesque abbey and 13th century cathedral. Here is where English Parliamentarian troops sacked the city, massacring the Irish confederate troops and Roman Catholic clergy in 1647.  Here is another Irish location where it is unwise to speak of the British in a complimentary manner during polite conversation.

         Just below the Rock is the ruins of a Benedictine Abbey built before the 13th century.  Little attention is paid to this structure, but it stands alone in a field, further testament to the desertion of the massive stone structures of the time.

                          Hore Abbey from the Rock of Cashel

         After climbing the hill and touring the Rock, we journeyed to Mallow, where we are splurging for the first time on the trip.  Tonight we are staying in a country Manor called Longueville House, a few miles outside town.  For dinner tonight, it’s business casual, so we thought it best that I shave, having misplaced my electric razor since yesterday.  We looked everywhere for the darned thing.  I emptied out both suitcases, Tricia’s carryon, my backpack, and the camera bag.  It made for quite a mess, but this was an expensive razor.  Tricia then proceeded to cover the same tracks, and even she couldn’t find it.  Repacking everything had to be done by her, since she’s the only person alive who can cram all our stuff into those bags.  It was very frustrating, to say the least.  Fortunately, Tricia was able to call the desk and have a disposable razor and shaving cream sent up.  Unfortunately, shortly thereafter Tricia exited the bathroom with my electric shaver in hand.  She says it was in my toiletries bag.  Momma is quite unhappy at the moment.  Dinner tonight promises to be very expensive . . .
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Later

         Downstairs in Longueville House, there is a first class dining area.  The maître di first led us into the sitting room, where he explained the menu and took orders for pre-dinner drinks.  Tricia ordered, and then reviewed the wine list, after which she ordered a bottle of 1998 Chateau Montlisse for the meal.  I was afraid to look at the wine list after listening to the waiter coo over the choice.  After some canapés were brought and we finished our drinks, we were led into a magnificent dining room that reminded me of the conference rooms of the silk stocking Atlanta law firms.  You know—the kind of place that tells you when you enter, “Your financial statement is about to take a big hit, brother.”

         She had Garden Jerusalem artichoke & wild mushroom Spanish omelet with garden salad leaves and yellow mustard seed sauce for starters.  I had crab & smoked salmon roll with pickled garden cabbage and saffron sauce.  Then we both had roast rack of Longueville lamb with garlic & olive potato cake, puy lentils, and thyme sauce.  There was so much food I thought we would be ill.  But then they brought out the Galliano & Orange Sabayon with red currant ice cream for her, and caramelized orchard apple tart with Longueville apple brandy ice cream & caramel sauce for me.  I tell you what:  those two ice creams were almost worth it all.  Homemade apple brandy ice cream is a rare treat; the flavors mixed perfectly with the heavy cream to make this a perfect concoction.  And the spoonfuls of red currant ice cream I managed to take while Tricia wasn’t looking were almost as good.  It was absolutely the best meal so far on our trip.

         We head for the Blarney Castle and points south tomorrow.  I sure hope they take credit cards at the Longueville House.

Charlie & Tricia

© 2012