Cork is a bit like Facebook in that far too many people there add unnecessary Likes (It's true, like. They really do, like), but I love the place and try to get down there at least once a year, mostly for the food. I travelled down last week on business, and decided to stay for a few days. The last few weeks have been somewhat hectic to say the least, and my health hasn't been the best, so getting away from everything in the wilds of West Cork was just the healing salve I needed.
We packed up our bags after the not-so-briefest of repasts at Cafe Paradiso, in itself reason enough to visit Cork, and headed south to Baltimore. No, not the "way-down-in-the-hole, in-deed, Omar-comin" Baltimore, but the other, slightly less crime-ridden harbour town that explodes with tourists each summer but on a typically cold and blustery March day is near-deserted and altogether rather nice. Many a cliff-top walk was taken and fresh air consumed like bunga-bunga at a Berlusconi banquet.
|Sherkin Island and Cape Clear as seen from Baltimore |
Baltimore, Cork, March 3rd, 2013
Of course I only remembered this book on the last day of our stay there when noticing that one of the pubs was called The Algiers Inn. Revelation came less like a lightbulb above my head and more like an eco long-life bulb gradually flickering to life, slowly and painfully and not fast enough to prevent you from stubbing your toe badly on the side of the bed as you came in.
|Despite the constant overcast sky, it was still jaw-droppingly jigsaw puzzle-box beautiful |
Baltimore, Cork, March 2nd, 2013
I realise that this is not the most polemic of posts, but you can be happy in the knowledge that the carefully crafted zen-like state of bliss lovingly nurtured in Baltimore has almost entirely vanished now, and normal service here at Booming Book will shortly be resumed.Tweet