Castlemartyr and the Stones

The castle ruins at Castlemartyr resort. Photo by David Lansing.

Back the way we came, away from Cork and through Midleton (isn’t that where they make Jameson? Must check on that) to Castlemartyr, a village with a fish ‘n’ chips shop and a greengrocer and Barry’s Bar where a couple of the lads from the Rolling Stones stopped in for a pint or perhaps something a little stronger on their way to play a concert in Cork in 1965.

Of course, there’s also a castle here (I’m gobsmacked; my guide lists 63 castles in Ireland yet there’s not a word on Castlemartyr which would be odd news to the Fitzgeralds of Imokilly, known to the local peasantry as the Dogs of Blood because of their rather nasty disposition).

Not much of a castle, however. Smallish ruins in a grassy field on the edge of a links course. No one playing. And there’s four or five hours of light left in the summer sky. Pity.

Mr. Lynch pulls up in front of the 17^th century country manor that is now a spa and resort (and our home for the next couple of nights) and before any of the over-dressed squires can rush out and commandeer our luggage, I’ve got everything in hand and am swatting them away like flies.

Just make a right at reception and go straight down the hall, says the chirpy young woman who checks me in. Down past some regal portraits (perhaps of Sir Walter Raleigh, a former owner, or the third Earl of Cork whose tomb they say is somewhere on the estate…near the castle ruins?).

Damn long walk. Take a breather half way to my room and take a photo of the hallway. Just in case someone comes out of their room and wonders why I’m sitting on a bench with my luggage. Eventually find my room. Feel like I’ve humped into the village itself to get here. Open the door and, crikey! It’s not a room it’s a palace. How many rooms? Three, four? Where do they all lead? Fresh strawberries on a plate and an invite to join the manager in the Knight’s Bar for cocktails. Just enough time to shower and clean up a bit. If I can find the bathroom.