Leaving Ireland

I’d had an unexpected great ten days in Ireland because no matter where I went, people were friendly. In Cork, a woman joined me in a restaurant, and I heard every detail about her perfect son who never drank. No matter who sat next to me on trains and buses, a conversation broke out. It reminded me of growing up in Australia where, travelling with my mother on a tram, she would always talk with strangers around her.

Last stop – Kilkenny

Although Kilkenny was small, it was lively during the Arts Festival. I visited old sites: I wandered through Kilkenny Castle and lounged on the lush grounds; I went into spooky Rothe House; climbed St Canice’s Cathedral’s tower where I could see farms dotted in the distance; walked along the Butter Slip where maids once sold their butter; and even took in an Australian movie.

Bennettsbridge? Where’s that?

My daughter’s husband had a family connection to Bennettsbridge and when he spoke about his visit some years earlier, it sounded like a perfect setting.

Kilkenny’s Thomastown

I bused north from Cork to Thomastown. It was a little hard to find accommodation in this tiny place because, you guessed it, there was another wedding celebration and an entire hotel was booked.

After securing a roof over my head, I wandered the graveyard. At the edge of the town stood a section of the old stonewall dating back to 1373.