I don’t usually go for touristy things. Crowds make me nervous. But I was already in Cork, and something about the Blarney Castle felt… oddly poetic. A stone that gives you the gift of eloquence, if you’re brave (or awkward) enough to kiss it? Sounds like something I could use.
Here’s the thing, though—you have to kiss it upside down.
At the top of the castle, wind tugging at my jacket, I stood in line watching people lean back over a gap in the stone wall, held by iron bars and a guide’s steady hand. It’s not dangerous anymore, but your heart doesn’t know that when you’re dangling backward over an old castle wall.
I asked the guide, quietly, why it had to be upside down. He smiled like he’d been asked a hundred times, and said, “It’s tradition, lad. Been that way for centuries.” Then he added, “Magic works better when you show a little trust.”
That stayed with me.
Some say the stone was part of a magical gift from a goddess, others say it helped a king win a lawsuit centuries ago. But all the stories agree: the stone won’t give you the Blarney—the sweet-talking, smooth charm Ireland is famous for—unless you bend backward for it. Literally.
So I did. My back arched over the edge, arms holding the metal bars, heart racing. I kissed the cold, ancient stone while upside down, boots in the air like some quiet Dhaka boy in the wrong chapter of a fairy tale.
Did it work? I’m still shy. Still not great with small talk. But I’m writing this now, aren’t I? Maybe the magic works slowly. Or maybe it just gives you the courage to try.
Either way, if you’re ever there, hang upside down and take the kiss. It’s strange, silly, and unforgettable. Like most good stories.
With a slightly less quiet voice,
– The boy who kissed the stone
If you enjoyed this post, you might like my other blog, The Quiet Pour, where I share quiet moments of reflection and thoughts on the simple pleasures of life. Come join me for a peaceful sip.