Day 6: There's Something Fishy About Kinsale

This is one of a series of entries from my travel journal chronicling my recent trip to Europe. You can click here for the archived entries.

Day 5 | Day 7

One Harbor Dr., Baltimore, W. Cork, Rep. of Ireland 11/06/08

Today it was a journey to Kinsale, which used to be a major port and important strategic military town. It was about a two-hour drive as a straight shot but we pulled off at a couple spots for photos. The drive was incredibly scenic. We were heading toward Ballingspittle on the way to Kinsale but we were rerouted on a detour that took us to Garrettstown, which wasn't on any of our maps or in the guidebooks. It's a small village near Old Head of Kinsale, which is a spit of land extending out from the main coastline. There was a nice sandy beach there with a curved walkway - actual sandy beaches exist in Ireland! People were playing out on the beach, kids were in sea kayaks just offshore, all in front of farmland, farm machines working at cutting and baling hay, at the bottom of a valley with a majestic sky - sunlight bursting through a sky filled with big fluffy white and grey clouds. I stolled along a path that rimmed the seaside bluff - incredible shale reefs along the shore with breakwaters crashing against them. A lovely spot and we would never have come across it if it weren't for that detour! After a while we eventually made our way to Kinsale.

It was close to 1:00 when we arrived and we were positively famished from our journey, so we parked and promptly headed over to the Fishy Fishy Cafe in the heart of Kinsale. Mom had read a great deal about this place - all glowing reviews. Evidently Kinsale is the culinary Mecca of Ireland and has dining options for every budget from upscale through midrange to what passes for cheap eats in Ireland (dining out is expensive and almost disturbingly so given the anemic dollar).

Lunch was excellent. The cafe has a nice decor - a sort of art gallery feel with pieces from (local?) artists hanging up on the walls. It was rather noisy inside, but it was a lunch crowd and the air was filled with variations on the euphonic brogue so how can one complain? I was hungry, I had euros burning a hole in my pocket, and I was eager to sample what Fishy Fishy had to offer. Luckily they offered "tastes" which were 1/2 orders of many of their appetizers and entrées. Not surprisingly, seafood was their specialty.

We enjoyed some great white and brown bread along with rich, creamy butter and a sort of garlicky mustard spread before our order came. I started with a cup of the seafood chowder. Very interesting - not what I expected at all. It was a deep brown broth topped with crème fraîche and toasted sesame seeds. It had a very strong cumin taste to it - almost like a curry. No chunks or otherwise discernible pieces of fish, which was very disheartening to me. Instead it was a fine mix of microscopic pieces - almost as if they had put it through a food processor or mill. I'm sorry - when I order seafood chowder I want big chunks of fish so that I can determine what I'm actually eating, for one, and also because, well, it's nice to have some actual fish in there! But it did taste good, and it was an interesting departure from what I was used to. I also ordered the mussels and one of the specials: the wok-fried crab claws. The mussels were fantastic in a basil & cream sauce. I hadn't had them like this before and they were quite good. Also despite its being only a "taste" it was a very healthy portion. The crab claws were also good although I was struggling with them for a while. Evidently you're just supposed to suck the meat off the partially-opened shells; I spent forever picking bits out with my fork. Very tasty but a little unsatisfactory in terms of meat. I washed the whole lunch down with a couple Kinsale Lagers, which is an excellent brew. On the whole the Fishy Fishy Cafe is a great spot with delicious food. Service was a bit slow.

After lunch we hit the tourist office for some info on getting to Charles Fort. I used the gents' toilet while Mom was inside. Restrooms in Ireland, especially the public ones in my experience, have those troughs that go all the way down to the floor. A word to the wise: be very careful addressing such urinals while wearing sandals.

We set out on the walk to Charles Fort, about three miles outside town, around the harbor and through the small fishing village of Scilly. The fort is an impressive example of 16th century trace italienne fortresses - star-shaped citadels - which became virtually impregnable at their technological height in the 18th century before the advent of the explosive shell. The fort is a great ruin - it was actually garrisoned from the 1600's on up through World War I, and ended up being burned and left to ruin as an act of rebellion during the Irish Civil War in 1922-23. The fort has a long history and I got a great tour from a guide who spoke with a British, not Irish, accent. A splendid structure, and the view of Kinsale from the fort and along the walk is well worth the time and effort to get out there.

Once we got back to the car it was around 6:00 and we had a decent drive ahead of us back to Baltimore. I was hungry when we got back; Mom was going to snack for dinner and my relatives had just left a note that they were out to dinner at the "Baltimore Bar" and had left just 10 min. ago. I set out to join them but couldn't even find the place (turns out they meant the Baltimore Hotel but the bar was closed anyway because it was too early in the season.) After a bit of wandering around I decided to try Casey's, which is a hotel & restaurant just on the edge of town. I was one of two customers in the dark establishment but I was hungry and I had heard good things from my relatives, who had eaten there the previous night. I was a bit tired of seafood after today and the past week so I opted for the roast stuffed lamb special (even though seafood was their specialty) and a Guinness (of course). I had some difficulty with the friendly and good-intentioned (I assume, anyway) barkeep because of his particularly heavily accented clipped words.

"I'll have the lamb special," I declared, as brightly as I could in a pub so dark I could barely make out what was going on across the room (note: nothing).
"Lamb?" said he, abruptly and incredulously, unnecessarily so in my opinion for such a simple order. He said something completely unintelligible and I stared at him blankly. He flipped open the menu and pointed to the lamb, looking at me inquisitively. I did the same and repeated, "The lamb special."
"Lamb?"
"Yes, lamb."
"Vegpotatoorchipsandblarg?"
"Er...could I have those croucette potatoes?"
"Aye vegpotato. [entirely unintelligible]?"
"Yes, that sounds excellent."

The plate of lamb was good, although not fantastic. Slices laid over mashed potatoes with some kind of feeble mint sauce. The "vegpotato" turned out to be limp steamed carrots and broccoli and a couple potato balls lightly breaded and fried. I finished up and sipped on a second pint while I watched some of the football match. A couple old ladies came in: "Are you a local?" asked one as I nodded in greeting. This unintentional deception was rectified once I spoke. We chatted for a bit - they were on a 3-day holiday from Tipperary - and they bade me "Good luck on your holiday!" as they left. Another fantastic day ended after I made my way back home.