I grew up in Upstate New York in a two hundred-year-old house. I’m pretty used to old buildings… by American standards. But you go over to Ireland, and there’s just a four hundred-year-old church chilling out on a street corner like it’s nothing. Or stone walls that are a few hundred years old separating farms.
The level of casual history is just crazy!
We found (in our handy, dandy guide book) a church in Cork that was crazy old, still in operation, and next to a butter museum. And the biggest draw: you get to ring the church bells!
I got to live my Quasimodo dreams minus the hunch back and crushed feet!
Ringing the bells was super cool. There was a song book out, and what do you know, two actors kind of had a knack for it.
I felt a little bad for the people who lived around the church. Not only church bells ringing all days. But church bells being pulled by armatures all day.
And then we got to climb up and see the bells working! Which was both terrifying and awesome!
And the pièce de résistance…
Was the butter museum.
Who knew Kerry Gold butter shaped an entire economy? Probably the same people who knew that cow thieving was a clan-held way of life. Seriously, a mark of how badass you were was how many cows you could steal from other clans.
But all thoughts of butter and bells were banished when we found the gardens of Blarney Castle.