Blarney
Reader, I kissed it.
Yes, yes, I can hear you all laughing, you can cut all the smart-alec comments right now, I've heard them all before. Yes, yes, I know, it certainly worked, didn't it, okay, ha ha.
On the 29th July, 1981, at about half-past eleven in the morning, I kissed the Blarney Stone. It's supposed to be part of the Stone of Scone, on which all the Scottish kings were crowned.
It's high up on the battlements of Blarney Castle - you have to lean backwards to kiss it, whilst a man, thoughtfully provided for the task, holds your legs. It was actually a bit scary and I remember being impressed that the Communist, who most certainly doesn't like heights, volunteered to go first.
We all had our photographs taken by another thoughtfully-provided man and I have most of them in an album. For some reason my mother refused to keep hers.
It was a strange day. We knew that the rest of the world didn't care about us and our Blarney Stone. At about the time that we were doing our kissing, the rest of the world was at home watching television. They were watching Prince Charles marry Lady Diana Spencer.
Eire didn't seem to care that much about it. At the time, the British press was in a positive orgy of fairytalewedding excitement and I was interested to see that there was much less enthusiasm in the Irish press - - and even a dark hint, which I didn't pick up on until many years later, that young lovestruck and royalstruck Lady Di might be making a big mistake. For some reason, Britain was so swept away by the romance and glamour of it all that we just didn't look too closely at that engagement interview where the reporter asked "And are you in love?" and Diana looked up with her big eyes and said "Of course" and Charles said "Actually, I'm shagging Camilla and fully intend to continue to do so."
Perhaps that wasn't quite what he said - I think it was "Whatever love is" but rarely has a man looked so uncomfortable. But oh no, we British - or the press at least - chose not to notice this until years later.
Massive great wedding, televised around the world: massive great wedding dress, the original fairy-tale meringue: Charles and Diana's kiss on the balcony of Buckingham Palace on the front page of all the papers next day.
I picked the most appropriate day of the century to kiss the stone, of course, for it was all pure, unadulterated blarney.
Yes, yes, I can hear you all laughing, you can cut all the smart-alec comments right now, I've heard them all before. Yes, yes, I know, it certainly worked, didn't it, okay, ha ha.
On the 29th July, 1981, at about half-past eleven in the morning, I kissed the Blarney Stone. It's supposed to be part of the Stone of Scone, on which all the Scottish kings were crowned.
It's high up on the battlements of Blarney Castle - you have to lean backwards to kiss it, whilst a man, thoughtfully provided for the task, holds your legs. It was actually a bit scary and I remember being impressed that the Communist, who most certainly doesn't like heights, volunteered to go first.
We all had our photographs taken by another thoughtfully-provided man and I have most of them in an album. For some reason my mother refused to keep hers.
It was a strange day. We knew that the rest of the world didn't care about us and our Blarney Stone. At about the time that we were doing our kissing, the rest of the world was at home watching television. They were watching Prince Charles marry Lady Diana Spencer.
Eire didn't seem to care that much about it. At the time, the British press was in a positive orgy of fairytalewedding excitement and I was interested to see that there was much less enthusiasm in the Irish press - - and even a dark hint, which I didn't pick up on until many years later, that young lovestruck and royalstruck Lady Di might be making a big mistake. For some reason, Britain was so swept away by the romance and glamour of it all that we just didn't look too closely at that engagement interview where the reporter asked "And are you in love?" and Diana looked up with her big eyes and said "Of course" and Charles said "Actually, I'm shagging Camilla and fully intend to continue to do so."
Perhaps that wasn't quite what he said - I think it was "Whatever love is" but rarely has a man looked so uncomfortable. But oh no, we British - or the press at least - chose not to notice this until years later.
Massive great wedding, televised around the world: massive great wedding dress, the original fairy-tale meringue: Charles and Diana's kiss on the balcony of Buckingham Palace on the front page of all the papers next day.
I picked the most appropriate day of the century to kiss the stone, of course, for it was all pure, unadulterated blarney.
posted by Daphne at 11:53 pm
5 Comments:
If you're speaking English, the name of the country is Ireland.
And you were there just as my sister was going on her first summer holiday to the Aran Islands, aged 20 days.
I KNEW IT.
That Blarney Stone has a lot to answer for and women shouldn't be allowed to kiss it in the first place !
Ohhhhh a little bit controversial there !
As for Eire, well I guess it was understandable THAT wedding wouldn't be uppermost in their minds. In Ulster, of course, it was a much different story.......
Ian
Thanks, Ailbhe - I never knew whether to call it Eire or Ireland so thank you for the clarification.
And Ian - - sorry, I don't understand what you could possibly mean by "I knew it". What, from your knowledge of me, could have led you to think that?
I climbed up to the Blarney Stone a couple of months ago but couldn't bring myself to kiss it - they don't even give it a wipe with a disinfected cloth between kisses!
Ah, Daphne - - it was so long ago when I kissed it that germs hadn't been invented.
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