No Coffee
We’d heard that the campervan aire we were heading to on the Cobh seafront was busy. Thirty places… and usually rammed… come early!
So we set off with no brekkie or coffee… scream!
We’d hoped to find coffee on the way, but a stop in Youghal proved to be a dead end. Most of the car parks were limited to vehicles under 2 m high. So we couldn’t get into the cafe we were aiming for. And after a stroll that led to a no-sign-of-the-cafe coffee stop, we headed out again… thirsty.
Phew, Got a Space in Cobh
When we arrived at the Cobh seafront (we think Cobh is pronounced “Cove”), all the spaces were taken.
But just as we were trying to decide what our options were, we spied a Dutch couple leaving in their Vee-Dub. They were charming to talk to (as always) and even gave us the remaining time on their parking ticket.
They left in a few minutes, and we took bay 26.
Phew, we had a spot for the next two nights. The plan is working!
But now it was time for coffee in the van and some cereal so we didn’t pass out from caffeine starvation.
This isn’t a very interesting picture, but it sets the scene of where we were staying, looking back from the ferry we’re about to tell you about…
Spike Island
We were then at a bit of a loss for something to do in the afternoon. We didn’t want to half-do Cork, so decided to stick around Cobh.
A ferry ride to Spike Island, with its abandoned barracks and museum, sounded just the ticket, and there was a 12:30 crossing.
We then got into a bit of a discussion with the two ferry ticketing staff about what we thought was a Royal Navy supply ship (A139) that we’d seen coming into the port earlier. They didn’t quite believe it could be British, but they came to find us as we stood in the queue on the dock and told us it was RFA Tideforce, a Royal Fleet Auxiliary ship, docked at the terminal down the estuary.
And just as we were about to board the ferry, a family who’d bought too many gave me a Magnum White. Nice!
Spike Island’s fortified barracks were built in the 1700s and have been heavily modified since. The island has also served as a prison three times in its history. So there’s a mixture of army bunkers and prison cells converted from former bunkers. It’s definitely got a strong sense of Alcatraz about it, but from my recollection of Alcatraz, Spike Island is a lot bigger.
We walked around the outside of the island first, had a sandwich for lunch at the cafe in the barracks and then took the 45-minute guided tour. The tour guide was fine, but I got the impression he was ad-libbing… quite a bit (Cromwell… boo, Napoleon… yay!). The booing of Cromwell is fairly obvious—he may be semi-positively associated with Parliament in the UK, but he was also responsible for some serious atrocities, not least in Ireland. I’m still working out why Ireland is pro-Napoleon (other than the obvious anti-English sentiment).
You can’t escape the 800 years of British rule on any of these tours. On some tours, there’s a sense it’s over and done with; on this one, not so much. There was a vibe. I get that this place was heavily associated with the British rule, and especially with the independence. But there’s also the fact that Cobh port was retained as one of 3 British owned “properties” after independence and only handed back to Ireland in 1938 by Churchill – note to self… need to research what was going on for him to do that at that particular point.
After the tour there was time to have a bit of a wander around the large grounds before getting the four o’clock ferry home and heading back to the van.
Cunard’s Queen Anne
As we walked from the van to the Spike Island ferry, Cunard’s Queen Anne was making its presence felt at the dock—the sort of presence a chuffing great cruise liner makes.
But we overheard some conversations, and it turned out the ship was leaving at 6 p.m.
So we delayed dinner and headed out to take a look at the liner leaving. We think the boat is about two years old and carries about 3,000 passengers. Each paying over $3,000 for the 12 day trip.
It was quite a sight to see it leaving the dock about 20 m away from where we were standing.
Another cruise liner left the harbour while we were waiting…
… and a big ferry came in too.
Sue was all over the woodwind band playing everything from ABBA to Happy Birthday—accompanied by rousing applause from the cruise ship whenever they finished a song.
And Sue even made friends with some women who were volunteering to “welcome” the cruise liner. There were about a dozen men and women, all dressed up and giving the visitors an “authentic” welcome.
Eventually, Queen Anne left, heading for Southampton.
Walk into Town
After chicken and tuna wraps, we took another walk into town. The dock looks very empty without thousands of tonnes of steel floating in the water.
As we were leaving, there was a guy sat right in front of our parking space playing a squeezebox. Irish tunes, of course. We got chatting… as you do… and it turns out he’d lost his wife a couple of years previously and so came down of an evening with his camper (an old Hymer he’d imported from Germany) to play his squeezebox by the docks. He only lived 8 km away. We got a full rundown of how a squeezebox works (his was an antique, c. 1880s) and all about the music. Nice bloke. No picture of him… it didn’t seem right to just take one, and we didn’t want to ask. It wasn’t one of those moments.
In town we were trying to get some shots of the coloured houses in front of the cathedral. Golden hour was in full swing, but we were about two hours too late to get the sun on the houses and the cathedral. Maybe tomorrow, but maybe not.
But a local woman volunteered that if we walked up the lung-busting hill past the brightly coloured houses and round a corner, a guy who was doing a new build had opened his garden up (for a donation) so visitors could photograph the houses and cathedral together. Very entrepreneurial… but still the wrong time of day… even with heavy editing.
Tomorrow is a train trip into Cork and a GPSmyCity walk (we are literally next to the train terminal, so that’ll be easy peasy).
J
Leave a Comment