I Can’t Eat One More Fecking Potato

“I can’t eat one more fecking potato,” I told my wife after I closed the door to the tiny elevator where, by a miracle, we managed to fit all our bags, traveling gear, and stroller.

We were leaving the Kilkenny River Court Hotel.

The hotel sat beside River Nore just past St. John’s Bridge and had a view of the back of the Kilkenny Castle.

We might have never even seen this hotel had our VRBO not turned out to be an almost medieval death trap on Parliament Street. Once inside our VRBO and past the impossibly steep set of stairs the door opened to; every corner of this place had small and large spots of what I can only imagine was the Bubonic plague.

Kilkenny is a popular tourist destination for Irish people.

It is the de facto city for Stag Parties and Hen Nights. These Irish parties are the equivalent of bachelor and bachelorette parties but with animal names. It is only fitting these parties are named after animals because that’s how humans behave in them.

Kilkenny’s equivalent in the United States is Las Vegas, but instead of artsy hotels, fancy shows, and drunks, they have medieval castles, historic cathedrals, and drunks.

It is also a great destination to travel to escape The Twelfth.

The Twelfth, or Orangemen’s Day, is a holiday celebrated by Irish protestants on July 12th. It celebrates the victory of Protestant King William of Orange over Catholic King James II and the passing of laws meant to disenfranchise and persecute Catholics.

It is historically a day where Protestants persecute and attack Catholics in Northern Ireland. Even though it has cooled down over the years, Catholics still choose to leave the northern cities in droves and go where they feel safer. In this case, the Las Vegas of Ireland.

All this is to say, all hotels and rentals were fully booked for the week.

After getting to our VRBO, doing a walk-through, and realizing we were going to die there that night, we decided to go for dinner to clear our heads (mostly from the black mold) and think clearly.

After dinner, I called around and found that the Kilkenny River Court Hotel had just opened a brand new wing, and they were willing to let us stay in it.

We were on the tail end of our trip, and by the time we were done staying there, I had no energy left, so I needed a quick pick-me-up.

I knew one thing for sure: I was sick of potatoes and shepherd’s pies and needed something different on my menu—something that reminded me of home.