A much better day. We started again with a traditional Irish breakfast for James although I ate his black and white pudding, deciding that I liked the white better.
We drove to Midleton, which was my backup plan if we missed the Jameson tour in Dublin. Midleton is home to the actual distillery. By this time, we were getting the hang of navigation in Ireland, and the signage in Midleton was quite good. On the way from Waterford, we passed some more amazing views and also the town of Dungarvan, which is apparently twinned to Erie, PA, of all places. The distillery tour was fun. There were a decent number of folks on tour with us, including three or four who did not seem to know a word of English, so I'm not sure exactly what all they got out of it, but they did get to do the taste test at the end. The tour guide asked for volunteers and James's hand shot up. And no one else's. But, it being the off-season, everyone got to do the taste test except for me and one other woman who had a small child with her. (And I think we could have joined if we'd wanted.) James got an official taste tester certificate. I smelled the whiskey. I have to admit, the Jameson smelled the best.
Anyway, Cobh was a really cute looking town, but we had to hustle out of there to make it to the Blarney Stone before sundown. By God, I was going to kiss that damn stone. James got us there before dusk and we both kissed it. We actually got there at a really good time, late afternoon, and the sun was shining and there was no one around. The spiral steps up were possibly more nerve wracking than bending over backwards to kiss the stone. There were two guys up there, one to hold onto your pants so you didn't fall and one to take your picture. I was really scared about falling before I got to the castle, but it turns out they put a couple of iron bars across the opening so you'd have to be really special to fall to your death. And then there's the guy hanging onto you. I mean, it still made me nervous to lean back and do it (I went first) but naturally I had built it up in my mind to be worse than it was. But those damn steps. Holy hell.
James got into a conversation with the pants-holder on metal detectors, as apparently treasure hunting is illegal in Ireland, but the dude was going to do it anyway. And James dearly wanted to.
After the Blarney Stone, we contemplated the Blarney Woolen Mills (as I still had not found adequate souvenirs for people and it was starting to get to me), but it looked closed. So we made our way to our stop for the night, Killarney. The lady at the B&B was unfriendly, but I don't think she was the owner, as the guy who made us breakfast the next morning was delightful.
We were fairly close to the town center, so we wandered around and considered a movie, which we ultimately did not see. Then we ate at an Italian restaurant, Salvador's I think it was. James had an awesome calzone. Then we had carrot cake and Italian coffee for dessert. (Hot chocolate for James.) It was totally un-Irish but good. Our waiter asked if we were driving the Ring of Kerry (which we were, the next day), then said he had been here three years and had only just done it last week and was like, "Why haven't I done this before???"
