August 7th…mooching in Cork

Still feeling pleasantly full from last night’s meal, most of us give breakfast a miss with the promise of lunch somewhere nice in Cork. An early trundle down the pontoon disturbs a rather cross heron who presumably sees us as competition for his fish.

The brilliant Transport for Ireland app shows real time buses right across the country and we head out for the 10.18 bus and a leisurely ride round the well heeled designer villages in Cork’s hinterland.

We are struck by Ireland’s second city and it’s quirky mix mix of designer chic, standard highstreet stuff and decidedly local shops not found anywhere else.

We head into the English Market, and Yee Tak and John are like a couple of 3 year olds let loose in a sweet shop. They don’t know where to turn next and every alley, every corner has a new temptation. It’s a bit like Borough Market, but that is a disservice…where Borough is now an overpriced tourist pastiche of itself, the English Market is the real deal, with locals buying some phenomenal food at Market prices…

With our first coffee over two hours ago, we head into the first floor market cafe. Too late for breakfast and just too early for lunch, they are ‘only’ serving coffee and cake. We end up with a local pear cider (perry) and a heady mix of bread and butter pudding and custard, brownie and ice cream, or coffee cake….all before noon!

We ponder ordering lunch, which is now being served, but decide that maybe we ought to at least pretend to do some walking before more nosh.

Wandering through Ireland’s second city, we get a sense of tradition, but not in an old-fashioned ‘harking back’ way, just a community at ease with both old and new. Just in case this sounds overly honeyed, we are all too aware as well, of the modern 21st century issues which have led to the council closing all public toilets in an effort to deal with an increasing drug problem.

Cork is proud of its rebel heritage and the role which Michael Collins, one of its sons, played in their fight for independence…

Heaving around the brownies and bread and butter pudding takes its toll, and we sit for a while in the cool of protestant and imposing Saint Fin Barre’s cathedral…

…there’s another reminder of the old and new in a plaque attached to a rather tatty building, showing that George Boole lived here. Boolean algebra is the direct precursor to digital logic and all modern digital devices and technology….

The walk along the river by the university where he was a professor felt a million miles away from the commercial port…

On the bus back to Heydays thoughts finally start to turn matters nautical and getting ready for tomorrow’s sail along the coast to Youghal.

However, before that comes dinner back in one of our favourite bar/restaurants… Cronins. They have managed to avoid the mistake that so many gastro pubs in England make….they have a huge and thriving drinking trade whilst also having a separate dining room, both with their own great atmosphere…and still serving stout…

They have a rather quirky tradition for visiting boats to leave a piece of old gear behind as a memento, all of which end up strung in the ceiling not too dissimilar to the endless love padlocks found on bridges. The best bit though, is that each one is labelled and there is a book where each of the stories is written.

We add a little piece of Heydays that will forever remain in Cronins bar…maybe we’ll come back…