In my youth (quite recently, that is) I imagined the Blarney Stone to be a lump of rock, conveniently sited on a hillside, which one might easily walk up to and embrace. It isn't. It's actually a block of limestone, built into a rather inaccessible part of Blarney Castle's ancient battlements, 85 feet above ground level.
In the good old days, one kissed it by leaning out into thin air beneath the battlement, while a trusted friend took a firm grip of ones ankles. Not a manoeuvrer for the faint hearted. Thankfully, these days there are protective rails to reduce the risk to life and limb.
As is well known, kissing the Blarney Stone bestows The Gift of the Gab, which, according to one John O'Connor Power, “is something more than mere flattery. It is flattery sweetened by humour and flavoured by wit.” Who would not desire such a gift? How much more progress might I have made in life, free from the social impediment of an underdeveloped wit? Sadly, I shall never know, but the time had come to make good the deficiency.
On busy days the queue of folk waiting their turn to kiss the Blarney Stone can snake around the battlements and down the steps to the bottom – a wait of at least an hour. However, at 9.15 on a sunny Saturday morning we had time to treat ourselves to coffee and a sticky bun before ascending to the battlements with no queue at all.
“Be sure to get a good photo!” I said to S-- before projecting myself into thin air – ably assisted, it must be said, by a guy with a reassuringly firm grip on my torso.
I gave the stone two quick kisses before being hauled back to safety. Mission accomplished.
That John O'Connor Power certainly kissed the Blarney Stone! I expect to find you similarly endowed when we next meet up!
ReplyDeleteHair-raising gymnastics needed though. How brave you are! I'd quail, held or not.
Lucy