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We woke up indecently early again (apparently Ireland is turning us into morning people), well-rested thanks to the Celtic House B&B. Our room came equipped with two double beds — which meant I could starfish myself across one of them while still having the other as a backup in case of emergency. Breakfast wasn’t until 8:30, so I did the noble thing: updated my blog and checked the news from home. Apparently, Carcassonne is bracing for another heatwave. Shorts weather awaits us there, but for now, we’re firmly in “sherry weather” here in Kilkenny — damp, chilly, and only missing the glass of fortified wine to complete the mood.

Breakfast itself was served by none other than Angela Byrne — painter, author, and, if I’m being honest, someone I had never heard of until she placed sausages in front of me. (Every day’s a school day in Ireland.)

Kilkenny was hosting a “Medieval Half Marathon” today. I was this close to joining but, alas, forgot my running shorts. (Also, I don’t run unless a Guinness is involved.) Instead, we settled for something less sweaty: Kilkenny Castle. Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s a fine castle — but after you’ve seen a few, they do start to blend together. Turrets here, tapestries there, medieval draftiness everywhere.

Next up, we wandered through the Craft & Design Experience, peeked at Butler’s House and gardens, and then — brace yourselves — we boarded the little tourist road train.

Yes, we had already walked most of Kilkenny the day before, but when the opportunity arises to sit down and be driven in circles while someone tells you fun facts over a crackly speaker… you don’t say no.

Back in town, I stumbled into a men’s clothing shop and came out with a jumper (half-price in the sales — I ask you, what choice did I have?). Now the real puzzle: will Ryanair let me cram it into my already rebellious hand luggage? Stay tuned.

The Medieval Mile Museum kept us entertained until lunch beckoned.

Our friends A & S had already infiltrated Kyteler’s Inn, so we joined them. The place was buzzing, Guinness was flowing, and the beef stew of the day was calling my name.

Payment, however, was another story — the card machines were down, but by some miracle we had enough cash. A rare occasion, because normally our wallets hold just enough coins to operate a public toilet.

After lunch, we split up. Some of us went to the Smithwick’s brewery tour (where we learned the great Irish truth: Kilkenny = Smithwick’s in a tuxedo, sent abroad for export glamour).

The others went to Rothe House. The plan was to regroup at the legendary Hole in the Wall pub, but alas, it was closed. Plan B: the “Famine Experience.” Spoiler alert — it turned out to be a virtual walk housed inside a shopping mall. Nothing says famine like a food court.

By 4pm, energy levels flatlined. Four of us retreated to the B&B for tea, naps, and the illusion of productivity (yes, I typed this bit of the blog with one eye closed).

Evening brought us all together again at the Langston Hotel for apéritifs, dinner, and live Irish music.

The place was buzzing, the atmosphere cheerful, and the pints plentiful. Kilkenny does know how to do a Saturday night — and we managed it all without running a half marathon.

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