California in Cork

Speaking of spas, I left Mallow with a few remaining daylight hours and went to Fota Island, an old estate that is now a park. Most people go to the Fota Spa or Wild Animal Park, but I go to see trees from California. 

The Monterey Pine has lost a limb. 

But the redwoods are doing fine. 

I do miss redwoods.

Pippin and I took a spin through the formal Victorian gardens. 

More snowbells. 

As I left, I noticed this advertisement for "Ireland's Ancient East," a tourism initiative that aims to get International tourists off the Ring of Kerry and into Ireland's other treasures. 

"This is a lush green land worshiped by pagans, stalked by Vikings and attacked, besieged and conquered by Anglo Normans."

Emphasis mine. Good to know which side are you on, Failte Ireland. 

Then back to Cork city for a drink at Mutton Lane with a dear friend. 

Venture inside and the Mutton Lane Inn is dark, wooden and candle lit. The staff are exceptionally friendly, the music is always good and, to encourage conversation, there is NO TV. Ask about the pictures above the bar when you get a chance. Two of our famous Lord Mayors will be looking down on you, along with JFK and Jackie as well as Johnny Cash.

Mutton lane, Crane lane, The Oval and a bunch of other Cork pubs are all owned by the same people, and each offers a different version of what everyone wants a pub to be. So many people come to Ireland and spend too many days in Dublin. I encourage anyone who asks me to jump on the train directly from DUB and get yourself down to Cork and into of these pubs. 

The next day I planned to visit sheela-na-gigs of Tipperary.