I considered continuing on yesterday's blog to cover for today, as just because I went to bed, it didn't mean my day really ended. Far from it! The giant behemoth of a bed hog in Daniel ensured I heard every single dong of the bells from the Christ Church Cathedral across the road from midnight to 7am! Not that there wasn't any sleep though. By about 4am I'd given up and relocated to the ground to try and find the elusive Zzzzz's. And I did, for about 50 minutes. Great success! After 5am I tried jumping back in the bed, but by 6am I'd given up so I got up and went for a shower to get my day started, I figured it'd be a long one! I had no idea... We had an early start this morning anyway with the start of our tour, so it was good to get an early jump on the others. I took the opportunity to go downstairs and check in for our flight to Liverpool on Friday, as we had to have a printout and the hotel had a computer and printer. We were on the road by about 7:30am, but what I really mean by that is I felt like a ******* backpacker again carting my backpack across the city to the start point of the tour. Which was at a backpackers. Worse, our accommodation tonight was at a backpackers. Oh how my life had fallen. We got to the pickup point a little bit early, so sat on the steps outside for 20 minutes or so (gee today is awesome) until our guide gathered us and took us to the bus. We only had a group of about 12 or so, which on one hand was awesome because it was a lot more personalised, but on a much more significant hand meant we were in a piddly little bus that didn't have wifi on it, which we were totally expecting to have. Oh well, at least I might see some scenery today! Our bus was late leaving Dublin, namely because of two late coming middle aged Canadian tourists, and we could sense they were already offside with the rest of us because of it - I know they were with me! There were actually a few Canadians on the bus, which we found out as the driver went around the bus doing introductions trying to break the ice. The first couple of them seemed pretty awesome; a lady who'd partied hard till 4am (remember it had been a Monday night) this morning so was doing it a little tough, and her mother, who was actually Scottish and had the most awesome accent ever! We actually had to hear their story second though because of the late coming Canadians, who butted right in to tell the story I think nobody at all cared about, and after they did butt in, I'm 100 percent certain nobody at all cared about. For our own sakes we'd decided then and there to differentiate both groups by identifying one as 'drunk Canadian woman and her mum', and 'obnoxious douchbag *******' (ODW for short). In retrospect, it was probably a nice name to give them... After a couple of hours on the bus, we had a rest stop at a service centre on the highway heading south. Our guide stressed it was just a 15-minute stop to stretch our legs and maybe get a quick bite to eat. I finally had some fruit for the first time in weeks! After about 10 minutes, when everybody else was starting to congregate back around the bus, we saw the ODWs stroll off towards McDonald's. Five minutes later, the bus rolled off, destined for our next destination. It was now that probably the worst call in history was made, and one which we all forever regret, because somebody decided to let the driver know the ODWs weren't back yet. 10 minutes later and there was still no sign of them, and they only returned to the bus five minutes after that because drunk Canadian woman volunteered to go and find them. I'd have sooner volunteered to stab my eyes with a blunt screwdriver. It turns out they thought it was a good idea that, 10 minutes into a 15 minute break, they go and have a sit-down breakfast together! Seriously! Who in their right mind thinks that?! Anyway, let's move on. Our first destination on the tour was a town called Cobh, which is in the south of Ireland, and in which we arrived by late morning. Don't ask me how the hell they get a pronunciation of 'Cove' out of that, but they do. Maybe this is why there are so many dumb Irish jokes going around. Anyway, Cobh used to be called Queenstown, because Queen Victoria really liked it and named it after herself. She must've been so royally vain. It was a big emigration port back in its day, so there is a lot of North American heritage here; a fact that one of the ODWs was only too keen to make certain we all knew, and the other one was only too keen to latch onto. We get that you're going to the history centre, we got it the first time you told us! It's probably not that much to write home about either ODWs, they can't even pronounce the town's name properly, so originating here is not much to be proud of (although it might explain a s***load). Anyway, we had about 45 minutes of spare time to explore Cobh, and it was an absolutely gorgeous little town so we were looking forward to it (and I think from the whole bus's perspective, looking forward to not hearing from ODWs for that time - I doubt anybody would have followed them to the history centre, even if they had a father who'd been king here!). When it was Queenstown, Cobh used to be a stop for the White Star Line to pick up passengers to cross the Atlantic. Most famously, it was a stop for the Titanic, and has a little bit of fame for it. In my nerdy youth, I had a real (obsessive) interest in the Titanic, so I was keen to have a look at the tour inside the old offices of the White Star Line for it. Unfortunately the next tour wouldn't have finished before we would've had to get back on the bus. If I were the ODWs, of course I'd have jumped at the chance to do the tour! Sadly I'm just me, and this thing called respect stopped me from doing it. It wasn't to matter anyway. I joined Dad and Daniel on a walk up to the church, which had beautiful views out over the harbour, and in our time we also walked a bit more of the town and got a coffee, before making our way back to the bus. We saw drunk Canadian woman, who really impressed me after saying she'd backed up a massive night with a cider while we were there. All of a sudden I was disappointed in my coffee selection! At the bus, we waited again for the ODWs! Seriously this was getting beyond a joke! And the worst thing is they didn't actually give a ****, and despite seeing we were all waiting, still dawdled slowly back to the bus. Once they finally got back, we drove a short distance into Cork, the second biggest city in Ireland, for some lunch. After getting some pointers for some good places to go explore, we were off for a look around. We headed for the English Market in the city, which had a big selection of foods. Daniel and I weren't all that hungry, our fruit this morning still satisfying, but as the market had a fish stall, we once again watched Dad act all penguin and gobble some raw fish. I'm seriously beginning to question if I'm half Dutch or half fish. Merman perhaps. We also bumped into drunk Canadian woman in the market, who seemed really friendly (despite witnessing a penguin eating), and even better, was happy to talk **** with us about the ODWs! We liked this woman! Daniel, Dad and I were all cute and ate ice cream together on the way back to the bus. Along the way, we saw the ODWs entertaining the thought of buying an 'artwork' (fake print) from a street vendor. Unbelievably, they weren't late this time back to the bus! They must've been too excited to show off said 'artwork' to everybody who didn't care, and brag about how cheap it was. It was actually quite funny to see the reaction of our tour guide when they shared the news with him. I feel I learned a new language today, called facial expression, because the look on his face clearly translated into 'you ********s' in English! With everybody back on the bus, it was time to head to our afternoon's destination - Blarney Castle. The castle was a bit of a retreat for royalty, in particular Queen Elizabeth I, back in the 1600s, and is set on some really nice grounds around a big lake, and heaps of gardens and lawns which are dotted with a lot of ruined castles. But the main reason to come here is to kiss the Blarney Stone, which requires you to climb to the top of the castle, lean backwards, and kiss it upside down. Legend from Queen Elizabeth I's day has it that kissing it gives you the 'gift of the gab'. My stories already ******** on a lot, and I kissed it. They're about to get a whole lot bigger. God help us all. With our last 45 minutes or so there, we headed to the pub for a refreshing beer! Halfway through, we were joined by drunk Canadian woman, who was heaving for a cider, her mum, and a South African tourist who'd been hanging out with them. In time, pretty much all of our group was sitting around the table, finally breaking the ice introducing ourselves to each other and having a great time doing so; it was a lot of fun. Everybody except the ODWs! This was probably a good thing as it was pretty much at the expense of them that we were having so much fun. Drunk Canadian woman's mum was absolutely hilarious, coming up with rip snorter insults delivered in a smooth Scottish-Canadian tone that just made me want to hug her. Granted, I love to hug everybody, but don't let that undermine how much I wanted to! We all hit it off so well that we decided we'd have to continue it on tonight when we got back to Cork and have a big night, naturally! On the bus back, we got some recommendations of places to eat and drink, and teed up a time to meet, as we were staying at different places. In a moment of madness that can only really be described as a truly d*** move, drunk Canadian woman actually invited the ODWs to dinner, and sure enough, they decided to come. In some ways it actually turned into a good move (but don't do it again drunk Canadian woman), in that their annoyance turned into our entertainment at their expense once they left after dinner (apparently a crowded Irish pub with music isn't their scene, they wanted to dance or something, I dunno. Don't care really either, they were gone!). But the rest of us who came to dinner, including Dad, Daniel and I, drunk Canadian woman and her mum, and South African tourist, were kicking on! We moved on to another quieter pub for a couple of drinks, and it was here the most legendary part of our trip, maybe even the universe happened. Ready to move on again, after a couple of beers and shots, we were waiting on drunk Canadian woman's mum to finish her whole glass of red wine. We tried to encourage her to skull it, but she wasn't having any of it. So Daniel took a different approach, and told her he didn't think she could do it, that she wouldn't. At 74 years old, she'd probably be forgiven for not doing it, but when she looked him in the eye, told him in no uncertain terms she could, then proceeded to neck it, it was absolutely legendary. By this time we'd come up with a name for the rest of the trip for her - Grandma. We headed back to the first pub, and caught up with some locals who we'd met earlier, and **** got messy. There were shots, there was dancing, there was Grandma tricking Daniel into skulling his beer, there was drunk Canadian woman picking some bloke up, there were more shots. And finally after a few weeks, I introduced Europe to geralding! And now I have my rightful place on the poor young Irish newlyweds' iPad, next to their wedding photos! They loved it. I think geralding could really take off here! Then, we moved on, and there was Grandma and South African tourist dancing on a street pole, Grandma wearing Daniel's beanie, and Grandma stealing her wine and sneaking it into the nightclub we rolled into. She was a loose cannon, such a bad influence! By the time the lights came on at 3:30am, we were all smashed, and rolled our separate ways. Lucky my immaculate sense of direction withstands however drunk I am, and somehow I guided us back to our hostel, completely crashing into bed upon arrival. Grandma, you've truly ****** us over today!