“Pippin” at London’s Southwark Playhouse: Solid Production of a True Favoriteby Randi / March 22, 2018
I have to admit that I did not know about Kyiv. Not Kiev; I knew about Kiev. But that’s all I knew. Let me splain. As we planned our trip from Russia through Eastern Europe and back home to London, my husband said “we should go to Kyiv”- pronounced Keev. And I said “where is this ‘Keev’ I never heard of it” and he was like “Kyiv is the capital of Ukraine??” and I was like “no that’s Kiev and it is pronounced ‘Kee-ev'”and he was like “wat” and I was like “what is happening” and I learned that Kiev (‘Kee-ev’) is the Russian word for the city, and since gaining their independence, Ukrainians have been very serious about reclaiming their own word for their capital city, ‘Kyiv’ (Keev), the one syllable version that was unknown to me. Can we blame the Russian bots for my ignorance? Now I’m all smarted up and ready to talk about this great city, Kyiv. Or Kiev, if you wanted to I guess. I like the sound of the two-syllable evil version better, but my preferences as a non-Ukrainian don’t matter. Do as the people want us to. It’s Kyiv.
i know this is a hotel but come on pretty
Now that that’s sorted, let’s talk about this charming city. We were solidly back in Eastern Europe now, having left Mother Russia. Oh let’s talk about that leaving bit, shall we. After our less-than-a-day return to Moscow, we caught an overnight train – our second-to-last one of the trip!! – from Moscow to Kyiv. This train was the worst experience yet, isn’t that so fun??? I know some of you who kept up through all the China and Uzbek trains are like, what how on earth could it be worse? What about those 8 hour border stops where you had to sneak into the bathrooms to pee? What about the old Chinese lady in your bed? Well those were all terrible, yes, but hear me out. When we boarded, I thought we were soo lucky because the toilets were automated! Like Amtrak, with the lit-up flush buttons and stuff! They weren’t just holes opening up onto the track! Unfortunately, that luster was short-lived. Apparently the super-fancy (not fancy, basic technology) toilets very quickly broke, and since the conductor isn’t an engineer, he just duct-taped the toilet shut, rendering it unusable for the rest of the journey. I trekked down to the other end of the carriage with a sigh, which turned into a bigger, more horrified scream when I saw that that toilet was ALSO taped shut. The next cabin on was the restaurant car! No toilets in there! And the next one in the other direction was the overcrowded platzkart, packed full of people in bunk beds in the open plan, with lines for the toilet at all hours and so resentful of people from other carriages on their turf. Those toilets were basic open-the-bottom-onto-the-tracks; apparently only those passengers with doors were given the fancy easily breakable toilets. So every hour throughout the night, I had to clamber through the terrifying open section that connects carriages, stepping on the giant metal chain links that wrenched forward and back with the train’s movement and trying not to fall while jerking the heavy carriage doors open with all my might. Over and over again!
I HATE UNCLE TRAINY you see what I did there
Thank all the lucky stars, I was okay. Pissed off and full of impotent rage that I couldn’t actually direct at anyone (I never saw the conductor people, and also what else could they have done), but okay. I was so excited to see Kyiv, which I know I am spelling in the progressive way but honestly I can’t stop saying Ki-ev in my head. Anyway, I didn’t know much about Ukraine going in, except that I had just recently started saying it without the ‘the’ that so many Americans seem to think is required – seriously why do we always call it The Ukraine?? it’s so weird! – and that Oksana Baiul was my favorite skater in 1994 and the only winner to come out of the whole Tonya Harding-Nancy Kerrigan debacle. Well her and Margot Robbie. I was eager to learn more about the country through its well regarded capital city.
Our Russian language skillz would come in handy to understand all the signs in Cyrillic and all the similar sounding vocab, but despite much of the population speaking and/or understanding Russian, it would not be very wise to lead with speaking Russian. Since their independence from the Mother Country, Ukrainians have some tension, to say the least, with Russia, as we all do. We assumed, now that we were back in Europe, that it would be easy to get by with English. Surely most of the people know English! Spoiler, they don’t! It was very rare that we encountered English speakers. So follow Scar’s advice (not the Boy Scouts)(the Boy Scouts suck) and Be Prepared.
I realize this is just a hotel that we didn’t stay at and I shared a photo from a different angle above but it really represents the city’s aesthetic well
Our train arrived at about 7am, so we were exhausted and very much wanting to shower. Our last shower was in that random hostel in Moscow (was that the day before? Time had no meaning any longer). So we took a cab to our lodging. We were staying for the next few nights at the Theatre Boutique Apart-hotel, in a studio apartment situation that operated like a hotel, sort of, in that there was to be someone at a desk in the building of apartments to check us in. I initially liked how it sounded because theatre. The building was hard to find because it was set back in a kind of alley complex that was SUPER shady and graffitied and even at 7am just completely sketchy. I was skeptical. And unforch, because it was so early, no staffers were in yet. The maid was there, luckily, and was used to dealing with guests arriving at inopportune times, and she told us we could leave our stuff and come back in….six hours. I KNOW! I was soooo mad. Surely the main employee would be in at 9, right? And would call us and tell us that our room was ready before the godforsaken common check in time of 2pm? I could not wait six hours! But I had to! Ahhh! Anyway the ‘place’ we could leave our stuff was right there in the main hallway, reeeeeally not secure, so I was not feeling this place at all. Strike after strike. Z was like ‘who is going to steal our disgusting stuff tho’ and I was like ‘disgusting people tho’. I asked the maid if there was a bathroom we could use – we still needed to brush our teeth and stuff if we couldn’t shower yet! Well, this is an apartment hotel type jawn, not a hotel hotel with bathrooms on the main floor or anything, so no, the only bathrooms are in the rooms. Ahhhh! Luckily, the maid was super nice and showed us to one down the hall that was HER CLOSET. Like it had all her cleaning supplies in it and also all her snacks and changes of clothes and pictures and knick knacks and stuff and also a toilet and a tiny baby sink and it was sooooo awkward. I was so grumpy about this whole situation. But there’s no time to sulk when you are filthy and also in a new exciting city! We decided to go out and get food, and that story plus all related stories will come in a separate post about Kyiv food next. After that and some activities which I’ll talk about next, our room was ready, and it was GREAT. I was so happy because after how low my expectations had dropped since arriving, it was so much nicer than I hoped. It was clean and modern, all black and white and cool, with a nice bathroom and a big comfy bed with really good white sheets. I love white sheets. Anyway, so don’t judge a book by its cover or its lack of employees or main floor toilets and all that. I would highly recommend staying here.
St Sophia
The most important activity for us to do in the city center was see the St. Sophia Cathedral, the oldest surviving church in Kyiv. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage site and you know how we feel about them (loves it!) so off we went to see how the old broad looked after about 1000 years of hard living. The complex is lovely. Note, the Bell Tower costs extra to climb up, but I think it’s worth it. It’s right at the entrance to the whole complex and is nice to end your visit with after seeing the rest of St. Sophia. Also, the Bell Tower is the only spot in the whole place where you are allowed to take pictures so it was worth it just so I can break up all my nonsense with pictures.
climb this biznatch
We had a nice time seeing all the interior churchiness and singing about how Jesus is an ocean, as one does. It’s said that in all the churches in Ukraine that ladies have to cover their heads because god hates seeing us evil-doers or whatever nonsense your religion teaches you to keep you down, but I don’t remember anyone telling me to do so here. I think they are more lenient with tourists. Anyway, we ended with the Bell Tower climb, because we like climbing this. I counted about 200 steps up before I stopped and lost track, which isn’t as bad as it could be buutttt the stairs were pretty, um, not reassuring as you could look through all the thin metal and exposed piping of the layout and see down forever and it was a little anxy. As you would expect of me because this is what I do when traveling in foreign lands and living my life, I banged my head super hard on a metal pipe despite there being a colored swatch on that section because it was low and apparently everyone hit their head on it before they decided to paint the cautionary alert on it but of course I am special and hit my head after they flagged it. It was really painful and we had to stop for a few minutes for the pain to subside and for me to run through the customary thoughts I have every time I hit my head which invariably have to do with Natasha Richardson. Luckily I was okay though, and it seems like Liam is now too. And the views from the top were nice.
“And the hands get heavy oh the hands I don’t know what to do with the hands or the feet”
Our next sight to see was the Golden Gate in the middle of the city, standing like a fortress to remind us of all the fortifications they once needed (prob still need) against enemies. It was named after the Golden Gate of Constantinople, and although it was completely destroyed during the Middle Ages, it was rebuilt by the Soviets in the ’80s. It’s a tad controversial, because no images of the original gate actually exist, so the rebuilding process was under scrutiny from historians et al. who were like ‘no THIS is what it should look like’ ‘ no THIS is’ ‘no YOU’RE mother was a hamster’ and finally Vlad over at the Soviet Historical Society was like ‘no guys this is what we’re doing, you disagree I kill you’ or something probably close to that.
The gate/fortress jawn is right at Zolotovoritsky Square, a lovely little square near a park and a nice row of restaurants and stuff. It’s a nice little city.
Okay so I THINK there was a lil church at the top of the Golden Gate?? And this is me in it?
looks like a funky curved lens doesn’t it like i’m in a funhouse mirror or something
This city is so nice, full of statues and greenery and beautiful buildings. I keep saying that, don’t I, that it was so ‘nice’ and I really hate that word. But there’s not much more I can think of to describe it, because I never really clicked with it. It was great to be back in Europe, and to see such lovely architecture and important monuments and relics of history and all, but I never really jived (jove?) with Kyiv. My husband liked it a lot more than I did, but I didn’t necessarily dislike it, not at all. I just didn’t connect with it. It was nice to look at, nice to be in, but I didn’t feel much for it. My heart wasn’t in it, despite its checking off all the proper points on my list like it was my Walter or my Frank in a Nora Ephron rom com before I met Tom Hanks. (Tom Hanks, btw, would be my Warsaw. Stay tuned for that, our next destination.)
who dat ninja
now that I like
As always, I loved finding funny signs or product names in stores, and despite being back in Europe, we still found some, like this brand of milk that can probably only be enjoyed by blond boys named Chad who swim for just-sub-Ivies.
Or this shop, which we made a LOT of very bad jokes about because Tories are the ones who would cut all arts funding in the UK you get?
AIN’T NO SUCH THING
We had a great time exploring Kyiv. I know you’re probably thinking…you didn’t do that much, right? Well, that’s because our main activity warrants its own post (coming next, along with a food post). The main reason for our visit to Kyiv, besides logistics, was to visit Chernobyl. We took an all day (like seriously from dawn till nighttime) tour of the zone of the infamous, horrible nuclear disaster, and it was astounding. Devastating, heartbreaking, and we learned so much that is only now coming to light about the disaster. It’s a truly worthwhile trip to take if you are in Ukraine or in Kyiv, which, despite my not clicking with it whole-heartedly, I still do recommend visiting!
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Madeira, Portugal: Lovely Little Island Paradise (for Oldies and Old-Adjacents)
Not just a fortified wine! The small island of Madeira, off the southwest coast of Portugal, is a popular resort-holiday spot for European vacationers, and for dern good reason. One of two autonomous regions of Portugal, Madeira is gorgeous, relaxing, and manageable enough to see in a short visit. Quiet but not boring, the best thing to do there is enjoy the scenery and the vibe, not run to check off a list of museums and sights that tourists must *absolutely* do like in many places, so you are free to enjoy your time in a stress-free and carefree manner. Because it’s one of the most popular cruise ship ports, it’s hella filled with white-haired people at all times. Also, the resorts tend to cater to families more than young adults, but happily that means nightlife is not the focus (i.e. you don’t hear awful house music emanating from clubs when you are in bed at 10pm). My kind of place!
The largest city on Madeira is Funchal, and we spent our whole time exploring this great city. If you like to hike and climb mountains and be cold and stuff, the hills outside the city might be cute for you, but Funchal was a perfect base to learn about the culture and people of Madeira (and to swim in an indoor pool (honestly my fave)). Although the weather in Funchal is pretty much always pleasant, it doesn’t get very hot (especially in December, when we were there). But that’s fine because, despite being an island, it’s not a beach town. Madeira was formed of volcanic eruptions and so is rocky and volcanoey, without the sandy beaches you might be thinking of when you hear ‘island paradise’. Kind of like the pretty side of Santorini. Unless you’re visiting via cruise ship (and so more aware of the ocean aspect), it’s best to think of Funchal as a lovely, pleasant European town that just happens to be an island closest to Africa.
Like all lovely and pleasant European towns, Funchal is best introduced through a stroll. We walked around with no particular aim on our first day and found beautiful city gardens open to the public, lots of fountains and statues (and stories!), and lots of cruise passengers. Walking in view of the marina (but not super close to it; marinas tend to be more industrial looking close-up) and thus the ocean was beautiful and instantly transporting. I love getting to know a city through aimless strolling, and Funchal is one of the best for that.
oh this piece of shit
In our strolling, we chanced upon various Christmas markets, which European towns hella love having. I guess saying we ‘chanced’ upon it is kind of misleading because it was almost Christmastime so it should have been hundo p expected at every step of the way. If we didn’t see one it would have been weird. There were long parts of main streets overtaken by street vendors (mostly with alcohol) as well as kid-friendly areas repping that north pole spirit.
When I said before that most of the street offerings were alcoholic, I bet you thought of Madeira wine. And while that was everywhere, the real star of the market stalls was ginjinha, a traditional Portuguese liquor made from ginja (sour cherry) berries. We became acquainted with ginjinha during our first trip to mainland Portugal, where we saw little shops selling the stuff on every block and saw Portoguesers line up outside to drink it in little shots. It’s a potent sumbitch, and trying it once what, 8 years ago? would be enough for me, especially considering that might have been the last time I had alcohol, but these vendors were Christmassing it up by serving it in little chocolate cups. After one vendor confirmed that the chococups were dairy-free, I had to get one.
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you can see I tried to just eat the chocolate but then realized that wasn’t going to work |
The ginja (for short) wasn’t my favorite match for a little cup of chocolate (that would be peanut butter) but it was nice to get chocolate and an experience in one go.
The festive spirit spread all over town, with amusement parks popping up in the center and art installations or what have you, I’m not really sure what to call it but there were THINGS and we walked INTO THEM like this cool jawn:
so pretty right but what to call it? an inside out xmas tree? cool cool cool
Although strolling and chilling are great, we did have a list of things to do and see in Funchal. First up was the Madeira Botanical Garden. It’s open to the public now but was previously part of an estate belonging to William Reid, the founder of Funchal’s premiere hotel, Reid’s Palace, which you can stay in if you are Jeff Bezos I guess. (#billionairesareinherentlyimmoralandshouldntexist) It’s fancy and expensive like a real lot, is what I’m saying. Anyway the Botanical Garden, or in Portuguese the Jardim Botanico da Madeira (much better if only because I love the word ‘jardim’ for garden a) it sounds prettier and b) it sounds like what happens when my mom tries to say Javier Bardem too quickly) is a great place to explore on a sunny afternoon. Funchal, and Madeira in general, has an exorbitant number of beautiful gardens to visit, and this one features mainly non-flower specimens like trees and succulents, which sound delicious.
little lizard friend!
all of Eleanor’s files
While it’s cool to be on Madeira but have it look like you’re in Arizona, the Javier Bardem Botanico isn’t my top garden recommendation unless you really like cacti. No, the best garden in Funchal is my favorite place of the whole trip, the Baller Gardens. Oh that’s what I wrote in my notes. It’s apparently actually called the Jardim Tropical Monte Palace.
up in the treetops of the jungle area
Whereas the Jardim Botanico was reminiscent of a desert climate, the Tropical Monty will make you feel like you’re in every other part of the world, from Africa to China to the jungles of South America. It’s an enormous town unto itself, with exotic plants and extravagant design elements that make for an endless maze of mind-blowing views.
you bet i hopped across that !
This sign stands in front of an olive tree that the Romans planted in 300 BC! That’s super long ago! |
Hey super old tree! Did you know Cato (obvs I mean Cato the Elder) |
like a scene out of a GOTTAMN FAIRY TALE
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These pictures show maybe half the grounds. It goes on forever and I highly recommend leaving a whole afternoon to explore and relax. There’s even a whole museum of Zimbabwean sculptures on the grounds!
Both of the gardens I’ve shared are located to the east of the city center, and they’re both up Monte Funchal. And when they say Monte, they mean Monte, as in, the top of a mountain. All of Madeira is very, shall we say, bumpy, so you need to plan how you get to the outskirts of the city center. We took a local bus to the Jardim Botanico, and it was a harrowing journey. It’s bad enough when you’re trying to navigate those super narrow cliff-face roads going round and round and round and hoping no opposing traffic comes. It’s worse when you are doing this on a big public bus. Man alive!
Happily, we had a different plan for the Tropically Monty, as I call my new fave place. Funchal has a cable car, and it goes from the center directly to the grounds of the Tropical Monte Palace! We love a good cable car or funicular, but this one is EXTRA. Funchal’s teleferico, as its called, is one of the longest ones in the world, with a ride over the gorge of 15 minutes! It doesn’t sound like a whole lot but it feels like a whole lot when you are that high about mountain crevices. Luckily the views distracted me from the impending sense of doom.
We picked out a lot of ‘future houses’ on these rides up and down! How cool would it be to have a lovely little terracoota roofed home on the side of a cliff with NO NEIGHBORS MAKING NOISE sigh that’s the life.
At the top of the Monte Palace (Monty Hall?) there’s a cafe and fortunately the only thing I could make out was vegan is also the best thing: fried semolina wedges. It was the perfect little snack before all the gardening.
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why yes i DO have a bomb appetite |
Not everything was perfectly loverly though. We did a thing that seemed like The Thing To Do so we did it, but it was Not the Thing For Me. I’m talking about a whale-watching boat tour. The boat, the company, the accommodations all were great. But. Apparently I get seasick! I enjoyed the amazing views for about 20 minutes and then I spent the remaining hours bent over the side of the boat. SO GROSS. So not fun. At least I wasn’t the only one; we were dropping like flies. The worst part is that we didn’t see any whales! Booo-arf!
boats are monsters
my main view
But one unfortunate experience of the trip is still a pretty great ratio, and now I know that boat tours are my enemies. And we still have so much to talk about! Namely, lodging and, namelier, food! That’ll be the next post. Until then, my dear-a! DO YOU GET IT.
Ireland’s Beautiful Countryside: County Cork (and Ballymaloe)
You know why Ireland is so green? Because it is ALWAYS RAINING. That’s what we learned anyway on our trip through the Irish countryside, on our journey from Cork to Dublin. We spent most of this time exploring County Cork after flying into and enjoying the city of Cork, because the region is home to two of the very special places we had to see: Blarney Castle and Ballymaloe. Also, as Husbo says to everyone going to Ireland, you don’t go for the cities; you go for the countryside, the gorgeous, green-as-heck, rainy-to-make-it-all-so-green countryside. And if I can so enjoy myself when it’s so cold and rainy and my shoulders shoot up so high that I get bodybuilder neck (i.e. no neck) then it must be a special place.
After leaving the city limits, Ireland was almost hilarious in how green it was. I felt like I was on set in a young adult novel from the 1800s. All dem rolling hills! There are tonnes of castles and forts of note to see in the vicinity, but there’s one at the top of every list: Blarney Castle. Drawing tourists by the busfull, Blarney Castle dates back to about 1200AD. It was destroyed and rebuilt in the 15th century but it still counts to say it’s from the 1200s. Over all this time, the castle was besieged and captured and attacked and regained and bewitched and bothered and bewildered and everything that castles should expect to experience, over and over, so now it’s mostly a ruin. But some parts of it are still accessible to tourists, including the thing everyone is coming to see – the Blarney Stone.
This is not the Blarney Stone this is a sign with spelling that I enjoyed
The Blarney Stone, I’ve since learned, is part of a machicolation, which means it’s a floor opening in battlements through which shit like boiling oil (yikes) or stones could be dropped down on attackers. But that’s a much darker context than we’ve all accepted. The acceptable history of the Stone is that this limestone block above the floor opening of a particularly high battlement will give those who kiss it the gift of eloquence. And that’s why strangers for centuries have shared germs on an old piece of rock. The real legend says that the 15th century rebuilder of the castle, Cormac McCarthy (fork I thought he looked old for the earth but I guess he’s aging remarkably well), was involved in a lawsuit and sought assistance from the goddess Cliodhna. (Pretty.) The goddess told the beloved author to kiss the first stone he saw on his way to court, and lo and behold he was supes eloquent and he won his case, and the Pulitzer Prize. The Stone was then built into the castle walls.
Another story has to do with Robert the Bruce, apparently gifting the stone to Cormac for his help in a battle that occurred like way before the latter was born at a time when neither of them would have been alive so we’re going to table that one for now.
Obviously all the stories are a load of bullshirt; the real reason we share stranger germs on a stone is because it’s The Thing To Do. So we did it. And this is not just some stone you can walk by and kiss as you tour the castle. Remember I said before, it’s part of a floor opening in the battlements. The Blarney Stone is across the open bit from where you stand, and it’s not on the ground floor. So to kiss it, you sit down on the edge, an assistant holds your torso, and you lean backwards and down so you Spider-Man kiss it while like in a wheel pose. It is super awkward to get into the right position and understand what you’re supposed to do with your body. And it is VERY scary. I am not scared of heights (not more than is necessary) but I was very shaky when I performed this yoga of the insane.
See it was pretty high! and so pretty!
“Oh okay this isn’t so bad!”
“wait WHAT am I supposed to do?!”
I’m glad I did The Thing but damn if I ever want to relive that.
To let you get your breath back afterwards, the castle features a beautiful garden on its grounds, perfect for strolling around in the rain.
And to remind you of the crazy thing you just did beforehand, all the plants are deadly.
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So fun! Don’t eat poison!
We carried on our way through County Cork (I love saying that like the cast of The Ferryman) to another so fun and so Irish Must Do Thing – a stay at Ballymaloe.
Ballymaloe House is a hotel and restaurant, and nearby they have a cookery school (that’s how we say it in the Isles) and a grain store and the most incredible garden I’ve ever seen. Like every single vegetable you could want, they have growing out there. Meanwhile my windowsill basil died. Ballymaloe is a beloved historical treasure, which Myrtle and Ivan Allen opened in 1964 to show off to the world Irish Country cuisine and hospitality. It’s the best place to stay when you’re out in the countryside because it’s like The Place, historic and beloved. Our room was so sweet and cozy and it felt so appropriate to stay there while in Ireland.
peep those bottles of water tho!
Ballymaloe is renowned for its five-course dinners and its roster of high caliber chefs and cooking students, so dinner was pretty nice. When we went, they weren’t super used to vegan accommodations but said that they of course could feed me. They started me off with a vegetable soup that was lovely (as really any vegetable soup is) and a salad with pomegranates, so even if it ended here I would have been happy.
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There was also great bread (more on that later!) so like, reals happy. As for my main course, it was a nonexciting but nonthreatening rice pilaf with spinach and roasted squash and a cranberry chutney jawn that did not really go. It was fine (I’m fiiine), but I think going back now they would be able to whip up something much more exciting.
And I did get a good dessert! Oh first up I got a palate cleanser of fruit sorbet, which is fun. You don’t get that all that often.
My real dessert though was a chocolate carrageenan pudding! Carrageenan is a seaweed that is used as a thickener. For the pudding, an Irish classic as we were told, they cook the seaweed quickly and then let it soak until it exudes lots of jelly-like substance (fun! not gross!) and then you take the jelly and mix it with milk and sugar and stuff. Mine was chocolate yay and topped with strawberries and dark chocolate ribbons.
Overall it wasn’t the most interesting meal, but considering it was an accommodation at an institution, I was fine with it. It’s the whole experience you go there for, not just the food. At dinner that night, Myrtle Allen was seated right next to our table. She has recently passed away, so it was really special to get to meet her.
I was so excited about the carrageenan pudding being a real thing that I bought little bags of carrageenan in the Ballymaloe gift shop! We also bought a signed copy of Myrtle Allen’s cookbook (which I included a picture of because I had one). The best part of the gift shop was obviously the best part of anything on earth: the shop doggie. I pet the doggie for a while, along with two children that I did not talk to.
We also made a visit to the cooking school a few kilometers away. The grounds are lovely but pretty vast, and it wasn’t so lovely when we had to retrace all of our many steps to find our lost keys! The gardens there and on the main Ballymaloe property are real goals. I almost snatched some of the chard because it’s hard to find in London but I didn’t.
i snatch you!
My favorite thing we did at Ballymaloe was take a cooking class! They have a few on offer and we decided to do the bread making class because we love bread so g-d much. It was so much fun. We made a few loaves of Irish soda bread to be served at that day’s breakfast, so now I know how to make that up right good. I should make that today. The recipe they use wasn’t vegan though, so they also had us made a really great brown bread so that there was bread I could eat at breakfast too. It was a suuuuper liquidy bread batter and they had me mix it by hand so it was hilarious but also like I was wearing long sleeves. I guess that was my bad though. Anyway bread is great. I was sad that we weren’t making loaves for our own taking but we still had several days of travel left so I guess it’s okay.
more like Edward GROSShands AM I RIGHT
“What do you mean we have to share our bread with other guests??”
FACE MAN’S BACK!
So our time in County Cork was loverly, a great opportunity to disconnect from our day-to-day and enjoy nature. And rain. If you’re going to Ireland, you’re going to Blarney Castle probably, and if so, you should pay Ballymaloe a visit.
This tree is TOO TINY FOR TWO BIRDS!!!!
