Black Pudding, Guns & Cows

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  Kinsale, County Cork, Ireland
Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Breakfast, it's the best meal of the day; I think so any way. In the small fishing village of Kinsale, I experienced my first traditional Irish breakfast. It doesn't matter where you go; pretty much all Irish breakfasts contain the same foods: fried egg, sausage, bacon, toast with marmalade, and black pudding. What is black pudding? According to Wikipedia it's a certain type of sausage made by cooking blood or dried blood with a filler until it is thick enough to congeal when cooled. So yeah... I ate that. Back when I traveled to Spain, I was dared to eat blood sausage and I swore I'd never eat it again. Karma must be biting me in the ass for something because black pudding is pretty much the same thing, only it's warm instead of cold. Lesson number one, if something you're about to eat isn't recognizable, ask what it is before eating it. Before I knew what it was I thought it was okay, a little funky tasting (now I know why).

After eating I took a look at my Lonely Planet guide, it suggested the best way to explore, Kinsale is by walking down the narrow streets, inspecting all the boutique shops. Since I have troubles following maps this seemed like the perfect place for me. Kinsale is the kind of place you go for vacationing, all little like Whistler. There are lots of artistic shops; my two favorites are Giles Norman Gallery and Kinsale Silver.

Giles Norman is a fabulous landscape photographer, specialized in black and white photos. He has a gift for capturing natures most breathtaking moments. I was lucky enough to meet with him briefly, revealing his acknowledged talent in my traveler's guide. It was a real treat to see this place, if I didn't have a budget I could have splurged a couple hundred euro in there for sure. I highly suggest other traveler's in the Kinsale area to check this gem out. Kinsale Silver is a hand crafted jewelry store, the artist/owner has a diverse style in what he does. The owner's workshop table is laid out in the open for customers to see his hard and skilled work.

When I stepped outside the shop I was frightened to see several military soldiers, surrounding the area with their big scary machine guns. I was pretty freaked out, they didn't look too friendly but I guess that is just part of the job. My anxiety had me panicking a bit, even more so when I spotted a military Hummer (like the ones in the Hurt Locker). I asked a friendly looking local if they knew what this was all about, apparently it's normal for this to happen here. In Ireland the police officers don't carry guns, so when the banks are receiving or transferring money the IRA (maybe not the IRA, but something along those lines) guard the banks to prevent people from robbing.

It was time to leave; I had walked the entire day and just wanted to dive in my cozy bunk bed back at the hostel. On the drive back I was amused by the cluster of cows I had seen in the fields. There is something about Irish cows that make them cuter than the ones in Canada. Don't know why, or why I bothered to share that-- just feel like the world should know.

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