Ireland is the most charming country on the planet. Okay, that’s a bold statement, I know. I’ve visited truly incredible countries during my year on the road. And while Laos and Nepal hold particularly special places in my heart, Ireland feels like home.
My parents nursed me on stories of the Emerald Isle. Pictures of the O’Donnell family crest graced our walls. I grew up captivated by tales of silkies and fairies, and captivated by photos once my dad returned home from his trip to Ireland spent tracing our family history. It’s impossible to not completely love a place you’ve dreamed of visiting. I first visited Ireland in 2005 with my dad, and we focused mostly on County Donegal—we rented a car, got lost on tiny winding roads, and hiked rugged coastline through endless sheep pastures. This time, I would seek out Ireland’s other most famous vistas, hikes, and yes, castles. Specifically, I would seek out Blarney Castle in Cork so I would be blessed with the gift of gab.
Getting to the Blarney Stone in Cork
Without my dad leading the way, my trip would focus on the southern coast of Ireland. And because the country’s small, I decided to rent a car in Dublin as soon as I landed and head south immediately. While not an entirely sane idea since I hail from a country that drives on the right side of the road, it was the most efficient and effective way to get around.
That said, landing in Dublin and immediately driving on the massive highway system is baptism by fire. My blood pressure skyrocketed when I approached the first round-about: I held my breath, tapped on my turn signal, looked left . . . no WAIT—I looked right before venturing on my way for the very straightforward three hour drive to Cork.
Cork is a pretty big city, but it’s consumable. I’m not a “big-city” person, and Cork actually runs a fine line between being too large. Thankfully, once you park there’s plenty of charm to find in the city. Since it was raining when I arrived in Cork, I opted to wait until the next morning—hoping the fickle Irish weather would clear.
Where: Blarney Castle—which is home to the Blarney Stone—is located just 20 minutes outside of Cork. Far enough that you can’t walk from the city-center, but buses do leave throughout the day if you’re carless!
What is the Blarney Stone?
The Blarney Stone is located in Blarney Castle, the stone foundation of which dates to 1210 A.D. Legend has it that the man who rebuilt the castle in the 15th century appealed to the goddess Clíodhna for help with a lawsuit. At her direction, he kissed the first stone he saw, and a great eloquence overtook him in the courtroom. He then incorporated that stone into the castle.
Others legends claim the prophet Jeremiah brought the stone to the area, or that Cormac MacCarthy, King of Munster, learned of the stone’s powers by a witch saved from drowning.
No matter which way you look at it, the stone has a long history in Ireland and centuries of men and women have kissed the stone in hopes of all it promises.
Why do people kiss the Blarney Stone?
No matter which origin story you believe, all agree on one thing: kissing the Blarney Stone bestows on the kisser the gift of gab. This means you’ll leave the Castle with great eloquence and skill at flattery once you’ve puckered your lips and kissed the stone.
And it’s no easy feat to kiss the stone. The stone is a mysterious block of bluestone set into the actual walls of Blarney Castle. Kissing it is not for the faint of heart—you have to dangle yourself over the gaping hole in the castle floor. The bars are recent additions in the past century as you used to have to dangle by your ankles over the side of the wall. Even with the safety features, for some people the experience extreme fear of heights due to how precarious it all feels.
Once it’s your turn, you take a death-grip the handrails and the man assisting unceremoniously grabs two fist-fulls of your clothes and shoves you close enough to kiss the stone.
A heartbeat later, you’re hauled upright and sent on your way.
So, the burning question: Did I kiss the stone?
Did I really put my lips on that wet slab of germ-infested rock where thousands have done-so before me? Did I dangle my body from the side of the castle and risk my life?!
Yes, although perhaps not that melodramatically! I mean, how can you not? You’re there and it’s there. It may be cheesy and touristy, but I’m cheesy and occasionally touristy, so I saw no issue.
For all of the hullabaloo about kissing the stone, the castle and the surrounding grounds are beautiful and worth an hour or two, once you’ve made your pilgrimage to the stone. Although the dank, thin, and winding staircases are not for the claustrophobic, once you climb higher the sweeping views of lush green country and manicured gardens make the the trip to the top worth it.
I spent a few hours at Blarney Castle, and although I’m not sure my voice is more mellifluous and my speech more eloquent, I’m certainly still glad I kissed the stone.
Tell me, would you have kissed the stone? Or do you now think my lips are now tainted for a lifetime? ;-)