Cork

Cork is a small city in the south of Ireland. Surprisingly beautiful place. Sometimes it slightly resembles an Italian city, as if it were transported to the north. Ivy covers the walls. Palm trees.

Cottages with a river view.

Colorful houses hiding around the corner.

Alleys.

If only the weather and vegetation could be changed a little, Ireland would be unrecognizable.

But still, it’s Ireland.

The city is built on hills.

Streets and houses are completely different in the lower and upper parts of Cork. It all starts with quite wide roads.

From two-story multicolored houses.

As you climb the street, it gradually narrows.

Along the way, you come across very tiny single-story houses with knee-level windows.

Or even ankle-level.

At the top, wide streets and two-story houses again.

An excellent view of the city opens up.

A narrow staircase leads back down.

All streets without exception are entangled with wires, like in some ghetto.

Abandoned, old houses can be found.

Approached one to take a closer look.

Bam! “Here lived George Boole, mathematician, inventor of Boolean algebra.”

Pedestrian button.

The British variant is also encountered.

The world of street signs is diverse. There are black, green, yellow, and blue ones with or without a coat of arms, in Gaelic uncial script or in plain English.

And in the port, there are ships.

Cork sends greetings to Belfast.