The Limerick Post

A girl who came from the US of A
Was wand'ring round Limerick one day.
She spied a book jacket
And sure 'twas no racket
Brought it back to Gal(a)way bay!

Okay, well the meter is kind of off and it's not particularly funny or evocative of my weekend as a whole, but there is a limerick for you, my faithful readers. I'm far from a poet, as my attempts to create something worth reading at Writers Soc have made clear to me the past week. But blog posts and essays, I can do that, so here as promised is the rundown of my yesterday in Limerick!

I hinted at the highlights from this little day trip a bit in my last post, so I'll hit on all of those, and hopefully a few more tidbits if I can recall any funny or interesting ones. Limerick was a rather last minute venture, an attempt to, as I've been saying, make the most out of every weekend. Flipping through my Ireland guidebook on the bus over, I realized that Limerick was passed over not only as a major section, but there wasn't even one mention of the third largest city in Ireland! No matter, we were on our way and it was going to be great. The weather did mostly hold up, but once my friend Alexa and I found the tourist office on the river Shannon (everything's on rivers!) we were sadly informed that we had definitely picked the wrong day to visit: the castle was closed for renovations, the major museum wasn't open that day, and the other smaller museum cost 5 euro but was free on Sundays. Sunday! Everywhere else we'd been to that point was closed on Sundays, so we'd assumed that Saturday was the better day for a short trip.

But we plugged on. The major attraction the friendly tourist office woman recommended was the Milk Market, an outdoor bazaar with much more than milk. I liked it even better than the English Market in Cork, even though it was definitely less well-established. Maybe it was the informal hectic atmosphere of it all, but parts of it reminded me of outdoor markets from India and Africa, although that could have been due to several stalls hawking curry and blasting Bollywood tunes. So that was nice. I ended up not buying any food from the market, despite being strongly tempted by the pastries and a delicious free sample of cheddar cheese infused with chocolate. But if you look back up to my pitiful poem, it's not hard to guess what I did cave and buy...another Harry Potter book, the fifth and largest, and in hardcover. But it's the British cover! So that's cool, right? I've come to terms with my book-buying habit and decided that if I call it a collection, it becomes more acceptable. I'm going to try to get all of the British versions (I only need 3 more), and write in the front cover where I got them, and when, which should be nice to look back on in later years.

Because of the unfortunate day we picked to visit, there wasn't too much else touristy to do in the city, but there was one other open major site to see: a 900 year old church! Yeah, old churches again- but this one was really old. St. Mary's Cathedral was founded in 1168, but built quite a bit earlier. A former Viking meetinghouse, it's been in use as a place of worship for absolutely ages, and standing inside was a very humbling experience. Devoid of sweeping gothic structure, the grounds were fairly creepy- we were the only visitors in sight, surrounded by crumbling gravestones and ominously cawing crows. The crows were what did it. Inside, we were made to feel rather guilty for not donating to the restoration fund, and I still feel like I ought to have. But, one of the cool things we did see, besides the old doors and stained glass windows, were these wooden armrests basically, all lined up along the walls, relics of an age when the congregation were forbidden to sit during a service. You'd basically lean back into the little wooden half-circle, propping your arms up on the sides, and still be technically standing, but more comfortable!

So while those were the two planned sights, we did quite literally stumble upon one other- an enormous socialist protest against 'austerity', full of unions chanting against an old dead politician, and it took us quite a while to figure out exactly what they were on about. I'm not going to comment too much on their aims, since I promised my mom I'd stay out of any political protests and avoid getting arrested. Still, I was definitely impressed with their passion and drive to change the system, and was happy to take their protest info sheets and become educated on the evils of debt and no jobs. There was a big stage, bagpipes, flags, signs galore, little yappy dogs with no idea why they were there, and some African drummers. At first, I thought it was a parade, but before long did trail alongside them joining in with their chant of "they say cut back, we say fight back! Fight back!" So that was fun, and I didn't even get deported.

Limerick ended up being a perfect little day trip sandwiched between big weekends in Cork and the upcoming one to London. While there was sadly nothing at all touristy for me to take a picture of referencing Limerick poems, I did pay homage to a Richard Harris statue, bother a coffee-shop waiter after misreading a sign I thought was advertising coffee and a scone for 1 euro (you got a scone for that price if you bought a 3 euro coffee...I should have known it was too good to be true), and check another Irish city off my list of places to see. It was a good day, and I think the city deserves a bit more recognition in the guidebooks.