It All Started as a Little Cough …

Day 9 / Wednesday, 19 September 2012 (part 2)

Now … where were we? Oh yes—at Castletown House in Celbridge, just outside Dublin. Our destination was Kilkenny, where we would spend two nights. This would be my third visit, although in previous years I’d approached the town from Dublin via Glendalough (GLEN-da-lock)—a completely different route. It was fun to see some different countryside—and to get on the N7, a good-sized highway.

This is what the countryside looked like. (Margaret took this from the car.)

As we were tootling though Sallins, my passengers noticed a photo op, so we stopped and jumped out to take photos. As it turns out, this was a branch of Dublin’s Grand Canal, which connects the City of Dublin in the east with the River Shannon in the west. The first leg of the canal originated in Sallins; work started here in 1757. Cargo traffic on the canal ceased in 1960, and it fell into disuse until 1986, when control of the canal passed to the Office of Public Works. It’s been cleaned up now, and pleasure boat traffic has increased—certainly the case in Sallins.

The Grand Canal at Sallins: small boats and houseboats!

Here’s a zoom look. Lots of boats!

This was right on the N7, so we had to park and walk back. The most immediately available parking was a lot at Odlums, which, as you will see, produces McCann’s Steel Cut Irish Oatmeal. (This brand isn’t sold in Ireland—and isn’t featured on the Odlums website—so when Gerry saw it in my pantry long ago, he doubted it was truly Irish.)

See, honey? McCann’s Steel Cut Irish Oatmeal is, well, Irish. 🙂

Margaret had been suffering with her United Airlines-provided head cold for some days. Now I started to cough too. Oh boy! I don’t like to suffer with cold symptoms, though, so at the next opportunity—and that was Abbeyleix (Abbey-LEESH)—we stopped so I could run into a chemist’s (that is, a pharmacy) to buy some paracetamol (that is, acetaminophen). At one point, we had to turn around (a not uncommon occurrence), and discovered this:

Abbeyleix Church of Ireland. It’s lovely.

This would become a habit, this jumping out of the car to take a photo of something beautiful or interesting or beautiful and interesting, as was the case here. It’s the Abbeyleix Church of Ireland. Sources give two different dates for construction (1825, 1831), but both agree it was restored to its current state in 1865.

By this time it was mid-afternoon and we were anxious to get to Kilkenny, unload, and relax. Our B&B, we knew, was just a block or two away from Kilkenny Castle (on Castle Road, of course). We drove all through the town, a little lost … but it’s impossible to lose a castle, you know?

The main street in Kilkenny. (Margaret took this one.)

At last! Kilkenny Castle, sitting on the River Nore. Now … how to get to it? (Margaret took this one too.)

Our B&B, the Fanad House, was very nice, and I highly recommend it. If you’re not sick, it’s an easy five-minute walk into town. 🙂 But that wasn’t the case, so Margaret took a nap while Jill and Alli walked into town. I opened my computer and worked. Driving’s hard work! (It’s just as well we stayed in, because I was truly getting sick; I just didn’t know it yet. In hindsight, of course, I’d been getting sick for a couple days.)

The Fanad House, Kilkenny, Ireland. I’ll stay there again, please God.

Our host, Pat Wallace, had recommended a restaurant, Kyteler’s Inn (fortuitously near a parking lot), so we met up with Jill and Alli there later that evening. We were particularly excited that they offered traditional music that started at 6:30 in the evening. That should have been a tip-off to me: most pubs won’t get started with music—traditional or otherwise—until after nine o’clock. But I was tired, getting sick, and not on top of my game.

Kyteler’s Inn—good enough!

It turns out that Kyteler’s (pronounce this KITT-ler’s) was mostly populated by Yanks, and the music, while good enough, was clearly aimed at the tourist trade. We also had to listen to some patter about the ghostly history of the pub (it was established in 1324), which led to an epic poem (about same). But here’s the thing: the food was very good. I’d eat there again. And this was the last time we’d eat in an overtly touristy pub during the trip.

So we had a hearty meal, listened to some music, and found our way back to the Fanad House … and bed. By now I was really, really sick.

 Today’s Image

Ireland has a candy culture that has no equal in the United States. Go into any convenience or grocery store, and you’ll find a huge rack of every possible permutation of candy—most of it chocolate (um, hellooooo, Cadbury Crunchies). Resistance is futile.

I’m not kidding. 🙂 (Margaret’s photo.)

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