Cork City offers plenty of Irish character IRELAND 'Second city' is an off-beat alternative to busy Dublin

English Market in Cork, Ireland. English Market in Cork, Ireland. Photo: Tourism Ireland Photo: Tourism Ireland Image 1 of / 18 Caption Close Cork City offers plenty of Irish character 1 / 18 Back to Gallery

It wasn't until after ringing 260-year-old bells in the Church of St. Anne's ancient tower - using the provided sheet music to "I'm All Out of Love" by Air Supply - that I decided Cork definitely has, well, character.

And doesn't take itself too seriously.

Somewhere between an overgrown village and a growing metropolis, Ireland's "second city" is an often overlooked alternative to Dublin, with big-city diversions and modern touches, but with fewer crowds, better weather and a more authentic feel. (More than a few of the friendly residents playfully regard the southwest port town as the "real capital of Ireland.")

There may be something to that. On a recent visit, the plan was to find out whether or not second biggest meant second best.

Throughout centuries of struggle for independence, the British were especially repressive in Cork, and in return, the city fiercely defended itself, garnering the nickname, "the Rebel City" and leaving Cork with a deep sense of Irishness.

At the heart of County Cork, whose rolling green fields and rocky, untamed coasts are the very definition of "rustic Ireland," is Cork City, with narrow streets and alleyways dotted with old pubs, small shops, bed and breakfast inns, gothic churches and a remarkable marketplace, as well as postcard-worthy bridges and walkways along the River Lee.

In recent years, however, Cork has evolved into a more modern city, with sleek buildings, a shiny new shopping area, a focus on the arts as well as technology and a burgeoning culinary scene. One contributor to the city's energetic climate is the University College Cork (UCC), a leading research institute that pours out waves of creative young graduates each year.

In 2005, Cork was named European Capital of Culture, and now, visitors come to the city for the same type of international flair as in Dublin, but without the all-consuming commercialism and throngs of tourists. With easily walkable streets and down-to-earth locals, Cork still somehow manages to have an authentic, small-town vibe.

As soon as my sister, Olivia, and I arrived at our bed and breakfast, about a 10-minute walk from the city center and surrounded by other tiny inns, we were immediately ushered in and offered tea by Olive, one of the owners. Unprompted, she handed us a parade of brochures and maps and excitedly showered us with what to do and see while in town.

UCC art gallery

Olive had mentioned an art gallery on the UCC campus, so we left to catch a bus to the college on the western edge of town. When I checked the guidebook to see which line to take, I found the magic words for travelers: "Most places are within easy walking distance."

With a good map, it turns out, it's almost impossible to get lost in Cork, and while there, we didn't walk for more than 30 minutes to get from place to place, and never set foot in a cab or bus.

Twenty-five minutes later, inside the gates of UCC, we found an idyllic campus with that ubiquitous Irish greenery, gothic-style buildings and old stone bridges. A new addition, however, was the Lewis Glucksman Gallery, located inside a sleek steel-and-limestone structure. We paced around the good-size gallery, exploring the main exhibit lightheartedly named "Thingamajig: The Secret Life of Objects," which displayed funny, inventive and intriguing objects and artwork from around Cork.

Because it happened to be a nice day (you could even say Cork is downright balmy by Ireland standards), we'd planned to visit the one place that would be a bit of an uphill hike: St. Finbarre's Cathedral on the south side of town, whose spires you can see from miles away.

Lovely church

Approaching the church - built on the site where St. Finbarre, Cork's patron saint and sixth century bishop, founded a monastery - I noticed the exterior's intricate sculptures, large rose window, menacing gargoyles and on the eastern side, a golden angel, who, according to local legend, will blow its horn when the apocalypse is due. There are worse places to be for the apocalypse, I suppose.

We were allowed only a peek inside the cathedral - with its stained-glass windows, marble floors and large, ornate pulpit - as people were hastily preparing for a choir festival.

Having spent less time at the cathedral than we would've liked, we whiled away the afternoon strolling along the walkways of the River Lee, whose banks are lined with tall office buildings, cafes, apartments, electronics stores and specialty shops.

When dinnertime rolled around, we stopped at Boqueria, an intimate, hip tapas spot that mixed splendid mojitos and incorporated local ingredients into the Spanish plates. Next it was on to the small pub just around the corner from our hotel.

We weren't expecting anything more than a pint and some good conversation, but soon a group of musicians pulled out instruments and began to play some traditional Irish music.

Between songs, an older Irish woman approached the band and quietly whispered something to them, and before we knew it, accompanied by the happily accommodating band, she serenaded her husband while he looked on with a mixture of embarrassment and adoration.

It was definitely not a Dublin club for tourists.

Of course, not all nightlife is like this - the city caters to the younger crowd and out-of-towners as well, especially on MacCurtain Street. Within minutes, we had gone from soaking in the atmosphere, beer and Irish ballads at modest neighborhood pub, to a rowdy bar-and-hostel teeming with college-age locals and backpackers rocking out to a familiar "Sweet Home Alabama."

City center sites

We spent the next morning somewhat hazily exploring the city center, which is dominated by St. Patrick's Street, a long, curving road lined with major retail, department and chain stores, restaurants and a couple of touristy gift shops.

We found ourselves drawn, however, to the more low-key streets right off of St. Patrick's, especially Oliver Plunkett, which had lively street musicians, smaller shops and boutiques, little cafes with breezes coming through windows, traditional pubs, vintage clothing stores, secondhand bookstores and music shops.

We ambled to the nearby English Market, built in 1788, to find a good cup of coffee, but were sidetracked by the enticing smells and incredible variety of food.

We wandered the mainly organic market, past chocolate and confectionery shops underneath yellow- and white-striped awnings, windows with fresh seafood on ice, butcher stands with mountains of meat in every variety and cut (including sheep tripe, the stomach lining, a Cork specialty). Everywhere you could look were imported goods, cheese shops, sandwich counters and colorful fruit and vegetables spilling out of barrels.

I couldn't resist a quick bite at Farmgate Cafe, which overlooks the market and creates traditional Irish dishes from the market's fresh products. We passed on the tripe.

Continuing the food-themed afternoon, we walked up the steps leading to Shandon, a tiny district of Cork that overlooks the city and is home to one of the city's more popular institutions, the Cork Butter Museum. Yes, really.

Next to lines of tiny apartments and houses, we expected some hokey, outdated museum (the building is butter-colored, after all), but were quickly proved wrong. It's difficult to imagine a city being so proud of something simple we take for granted, but Cork owes a lot of its expansion and development to the enormous amount of butter exported in the 17th and 18th centuries, and even created its own brand, Kerrygold.

The museum offers a comprehensive take on Cork's butter history with videos, displays and tools and machinery used to make the spread - and will more than likely leave you searching for anything you can lay your hands on that can be topped with authentic, freshly creamed butter.

Nearby is St. Anne's church, Cork's most famous landmark and the spot where I was able to treat those in earshot to my rendition of 1980s love ballad "I'm All out of Love" on church bells older than the United States.

Ear mufflers needed

Dating back to 1750, the eight bells weigh over six tons and are loud - very loud. We put on the required ear mufflers before walking up the steps to the room where the bell's ropes are, and were surprised by the 360-degree view of Cork when we reached the spot.

After locating some song sheets with the lyrics and the number of the bell to ring beneath each syllable, we skimmed the options as two little girls gleefully ran between the ropes, pulling them frantically as their dad called out the numbers. There were hymns, some songs we'd never heard of - and then we saw the Air Supply hit. Perfect.

Taking our spots, we wrapped our hands around the ropes, pulling them down hard to make some sort of coherent tune. The song - such a cheesy, guilty pleasure likely not as common in more "serious" places - sounded quite beautiful on the old bells.

Maybe things with more character than grandeur ring truer here.