Our Saturday was spend out and about. We had decided to spend most of the day at Waterford and then visit an Abbey ruin on the way home. It was crisp, the wind was lazy, the sky was fairly uniformly light grey and we set off after a sleep in.

Motorways interestingly are pretty well the same country to country. The way they are set up you end up seeing very little of the surrounding landscape, Ireland is little different. Our map lady “Sheila” (thanks google maps) took us off the motorway fairly quickly and we were once again hurtling down quaint wiggly lanes on our way to Waterford.

We know of Waterford for its lead crystal, so our first stop was the crystal factory. We looked around the showroom and was convinced the only way you could own lots of this stuff is by selling body organs. Beautiful bling but oh so pricey. We had a cup of tea while waiting for our booked tour to begin, then joined a group as we were taken to an antechamber for a multi media experience (that malfunctioned) then had a history lesson read to us from the walls of the display cases we were standing next to.

We learned a little about how glassworks came to be a thing in Waterford, saw an “apprenticeship”bowl which was the practical exam a trainee has to complete from memory flawlessly to be considered a glass worker – intricate and beautiful work.

Our tour party then split in two and were taken on a view of the working factory. First stop was the mould room. We saw wooden moulds used to initially shape blown glass forms before they are carved and engraved. Famous moulds of trophies from around the world were on show, made of wood that was soaked wet before bubbles of glass are blown into them to take on the shape – neat. Read more »

Being in a country with centuries of occupation by stone dwelling building peoples, one is surrounded by relics in various states of repair. We have visited grand houses on estates, ancient high rise living and fortified strongholds typical of Irish life.

On our rest day, we decided to venture out after a sleep in to visit Muckross House, a palatial grand estate with sprawling gardens on the possibility of seeing deer (something Jo wants to do for … reasons). We leisurely wandered the gardens, felt like royalty for a little while and then went on to what we thought was a ruined castle.

Ross  Castle it seems is misnamed. It is more correctly a “tower house”, the residence for a well to do family that was essentially a series of stacked rooms built of stone, timber and daub. We arrived and discovered not a ruin but an almost completely restored tower house. Not what it looks like from without. Although it was slightly defensive, the defences were really to keep squabbling locals out rather than a military stronghold.

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