On my way to the next farm, I had to make a one-night stop in Cork City at the reputable Brú Bar Hostel just north of the river. Super-hip, great ambience, and solid service characterized my short stopover. It turned out to be as exciting a hostel stay as possible.
My (favorite) roommate was a transgender kilt-sporting Goth boot-rockin’ person who happened to be homeless, likely on drugs, and well-informed about Irish politics. That night I decided to entertain myself as I sometimes do by standing and observing a scene. So I assumed position next to the Bar-hostel’s entrance, and watched. A pleasant conversation came out of nowhere with a tall, broadly-shouldered white boy from New Zealand. Crashes of glass could be heard on both sides of me, as the City of Cork bustled by in the night.
The most exciting moment came when a bus pulled up and stopped at the traffic light right in front of the hostel. On the sidewalk a caddy gay boy was drunkedly messing around with his girlfriend when he looked at the bus riders and aggressively opened his umbrella at them realy fast. One guy sitting on the bus grinned on, giving the feisty gay boy a thumbs-up.
Less than 24 hours later, I had made what would be the first of many train rides from Dublin City down to the coastal town of Bray. Hopped on the bus, and headed to the Southern Cross roundabout, from which I walked to the entrance of Killruddery. The house was massive. I knocked on a door with my American-sized luggage, to no avail. Finally a man came out to greet me, calling himself “Jack.” He brought me to what is known as the Lower Yard – bordered by horse stables and a large grain store. Inside the converted horse stable known as the “Tabarnak House,” I met Junji, the resident WWOOFer from Japan.
Thus began the WWOOFing adventures at Killruddery.
Stay tuned for next time as I detail what went down!