Reviews, thoughts, ramblings and so on…

The Christmas Village, Fermoy, Co.Cork

FINALLY, I get to do a post about something in Cork….and it has to be in Fermoy :(.
But, to be fair to it Fermoy has a bad ass Christmas village and the Christmas Park in the centre of Cork City was closed when I went to go see it. Fail.
Although, I was cheered up after that fail by some pancakes in Captain Americas (thank you Ciara for introducing those in to my life) and a class Christmas party. So all was not lost.
But being that it is currently something like 10 sleeps ’til Christmas (I’m sure there’s an app somewhere than can give us a more accurate measurement ’til Christmas?) I had to do something Christmas-y…so naturally, I went to Fermoy, the Lapland of Cork.

Now, my first impression of Fermoy as I arrived in was “Holy Sh** this is busy!”. The second thought, I believe, was “but ’tis lookin’ well…”, which was rudely interrupted by my third thought “PARKING SPACE!…BRILLIANT!”.

Myself and my two Sisters (Lisa and Claire) left the car and began to follow the hordes of festive folk (being followed by a man festively blowing on a whistle every two feckin’ steps!) towards something….eh….festive. As it turns out it was a public park.
Passing through the park gates the first thing that caught my eye was a car which had printed on the side: “Win” this car.
How do you “Win” a car!? Do you really win the car? Or do you just kindof win the car, but really you don’t win…but, technically, you did win…but you don’t get the car. Or something like that.
Yes, that’s right, walking through the gates to the closest thing we could get to a winter wonderland within the boundaries of Cork, and I’m giving out about grammar. But it was really weird grammar!

When I actually turned my attention to the park though I noticed that it looked quite nice. The people of Fermoy had clearly bought the worlds supply of Snow in a can and used it to cover their park with. It was lovely, and I appreciated the effort.

Snow in a can!

"It's snow in a can!"

Forging on through the crowds we eventually came to the real start of the park (I.e. where the people selling food are standing). Standing back to admire the park I began to feel the Christmas spirit just a little…until I  was hit in the side by the arse of a giant robin wearing a Santa hat. Also, I’m pretty sure the reason the robin chose to “back up on me” like that was because he was taking a photo with some children and needed to get into shot. That family’s wonderful Christmas memory of their kids hugging a giant cuddly robin will forever be tainted by the image of me in the background of the photo being roughly knocked to one side by a giant cuddly arse. Lovely.
Before I could think about this too much I saw a sign. A sign that made 5 year old me jump up and down like he had just eaten a bag of sugar and been handed a pogo stick.  It simply said “To the toboggan run!”.
With the destination established in my head we headed off in to the crowds again, searching for the toboggan run. What we found, however, made the toboggan run look like a mere slide. Mainly because the toboggan run was a slide.
What was next to it though…was an even BIGGER slide! But not JUST a slide, Europe’s tallest inflatable slide! It was truly the Mount Everest of inflatable slides. Which made it’s name all the more fitting: Mt.Everest.  Everest was unreal looking. Every part of me wanted to throw the stupid kids out of the way and barrel down the side of Everest like a ski-jumper down the side of that ramp-y yoke (but without the uncomfortable spandex and sticks). Alas, throwing children down slides (even if they are inflatable) is frowned upon. As is a 22 year-old on a slide. I did manage to get some pictures of it though! Even if that did make me look like a a bit of a creep taking pictures of children on slides with a look of resentment on my face.

I hope you appreciate the creeping I had to do to take this photograph! It is a monster of a slide though!

 After the amazement of Europe’s tallest inflatable slide I turned back to the regular world of normal-sized Christmas festivities. Oh yeah, except for the 80 foot inflatable snowman that was behind me!
Now, 80 foot is an approximate measure based on my assumption that 80 foot is feckin huge and my lack of awareness as to what 80 foot actually looks like in snowman form.
Apparently though, not content with Europe’s tallest inflatable slide Fermoy went all out and brought in the WORLD’s tallest inflatable snowman. He was enourmous, wore a huge inflatable hat, and had children in his belly. Rumour has it that his belly is actually a bouncy castle but these are unconfirmed. He might just eat children. We’re not sure.

Doesn't he just look like he eats children though?

 We carried on deeper and deeper in to Christmas where it began to snow. No, it wasn’t just an unusual weather formation hovering just above a very specific part of Fermoy, it was fake snow, coming from the snow store.
Yep, the snow store. Snow can be sold now. It comes in a variety of brands and forms (none of which are yellow, I checked) and is sold to customers from the snow store, which is called “Secret Snow”. 
Sidetrack here but what makes it “secret” snow? Maybe we’re just supposed to pretend that it’s not falling? Clearly it’s a secret. Sure it’s snowing branded snow from a bag but shhhhhhh! It’s secret snow dumbass!
I do have to wonder though if it’s safe to eat secret snow? Surely they have to predict that kids are gonna try and eat this fake snow? And they don’t even have to try. There was one child eating candyfloss standing directly under the snow. At least 50% of every bite was snow-like substance. Maybe that’s the secret. It snows, but it also poisons you. Merry Christmas!

Then we came to the Ice bar, which was where the parents went when they just couldn’t take any more cheerful joy. This too ws inflatable but it sold mulled wine. Like a bouncy castle for parents, but the floors were still hard so if you fell after one too many you still knew about it. (Note to self: Alcohlic bouncy castle….idea!)

We left the people in the bar to their Christmas spirits and followed the legions of parents and children with fake snow in their hair to the main attraction: Santa, of course!
In a stroke of genius Santa’s kingdom was only accesable by Santa’s magical train, despite being within walking distance. If I was still 5 (which in my head I was) I would have gotten far too over-excited at the thought of a train to Santa’s kingdom. Until, of course, I saw the train. Which wasn’t actually a train more than it was a train-shaped car. Kind-of like a baggage carrier at the airport with a wreath on the side. The “train’s” car-like properties were proven again later in the week when it was spotted driving towards Cork at around 9 O’Clock in the evening very, VERY slowly. But at least we know the train is road legal! I didn’t see a tax disc though?

Working our way back through the Christmas village on the way out lead to a number of things, the most important of which was curried chips :). Other things that happened on our way out though included my sister stepping on a dog dressed like santa clause and getting a look and a half from the owner. This drew my thoughts to something: Now, at Christmas and at a Christmas village, dressing up your dog looks kind of funny, a bit fitting and is a right laugh for childern. Every other time of year and in every other situation it makes your dog look like a spadge and you look like a bigger spadge, who is cruel to animals. Your dog doesn’t want to wear a furry pink jumper. Leave it style itself. It has hair to keep it warm!
Once I was finished composing my thoughts on dogs in jumpers my attention was drawn to two things. The first, was the worlds loudest woman. Ever. The second, was a smell. A good smell. A warming, christmassy, delicious kind of smell. Every time I smell this particular smell I want what ever it is that’s making it happen. Every time, without fail, it’s someone selling roasted nuts and every time, without fail, I curse that person because I really don’t like nuts and they should not smell that good if I don’t like them (All finished with laughing at uses of the word nuts? Good…let’s carry on)

Looking around we then realised we had wandered too far. We had inadvertently strayed from the beaten path and left the Christmas zone. The world outside of Christmas is an awful place filled with dark, damp, cold depression; regular old Fermoy and teenagers shiftin’ in the corner. It was, in essence, the anti-Christmas.

On our speedy return to the lights and warmth of regular Christmas we noticed that the snowman who eats kids had been slain. The children were free! And not very happy about it now that their parents (all warmed up on mulled wine) had come to take them home.

There he is, melting in defeat.

Eating my curry chips I was, overall, delighted with my trip to the Christmas village. Although I didn’t get to go on the slide I did get the chips so all was good. On the way out I noticed a few things which are worthy of a mention. The first is a small ball-pit type thing fashioned into a towable trailor in which some kids appeared to be stuck. The second is the little kids with balloons shaped like tanks. Festive really when you think about it. Hey, merry Christmas, think about war.
The third is that apparently there’s a place called Tossbryan!? Which I found hilarious. And my final thought of note at the time was the other child we saw running passed us with an A-Ha t-shirt on with all the tour dates on the back. Thus, making him possibly the most original child of all time. Fair play to you! You little weirdo!

I would like to end it here but sadly no, I wasn’t allowed to end my Christmasy evening on an 80s pop-related high. Because in waltzed Mariah Carey and took that all away from me. All I want for Christmas has to be my least favourite Christmas song of all time and it’s played a good 20 times a day, every day over the days of advent. There are other Christmas songs people! Mariah Carey needs to take a break for a while. Please, make her shut up! Do you think that’s really what Jesus had in mind for his birthday?  That woman must make an absolute killing over the holidays every year just from getting played in Dunnes and Tescos alone! All I want for christmas is you…to shut the **** up!

Happy Christmas everyone! 🙂 Hope you have a good one. Here’s one of the many alternatives to Mariah Carey to add a bit of variety to your Christmas.



12 Responses to “The Christmas Village, Fermoy, Co.Cork”

  1. yay i got a mention 🙂

  2. I LOVE reading your blogs! Too much fun!

  3. 1. I want snow in a can,actually several cans.
    2. Can we confirm that the fantastic giant snowman eats children or has a bouncy castle stomach?? (Either would be great as blackmail or bribes)

    • It was never confirmed but as a safety measure the snowman has been killed and removed. He did swear in blind rage that he would be back next year but so far this is unconfirmed.

  4. nice blog, i remember this from when I was young, and any reference to curry chips is quality in my book

  5. How did I of all people not know this existed?! Awww, now I have to wait till next year… sob.

  6. Twas great craic, Remember the poor fella who was left standing in the middle of the main road as his friend drove away whilst he was in the middle of getting into the car. Fermoy is a bit on the strange side.

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