Doyle Collection Careers
48h Hours in Cork
Introducing: Siobhan McSweeney
Hello, my darlings. I’m Siobhán McSweeney. I’m an actress, presenter, and child of Aherla, County Cork. I’ve been asked by the fabulous people at The River Lee – one of Cork’s true gems – to curate my perfect weekend in the city I hold dear. And sure look, who could resist being Queen of Cork for 48 hours? Now, I wouldn’t be one for tight itineraries or sensible walking tours. I like my weekends full of drama (on stage, not in real life), great food, plenty of people-watching, and possibly a facial – especially one that makes me look like I’ve been resting and hydrating since 2012. So here’s how I spend a glorious few days “visiting the real capital,” as we say (and mean).
Full Irish, Minor Guilt
After a great night’s sleep, I kick things off in The Mirror Room with a breakfast that is far too elegant for someone who may still have the duvet creases on her face. There’s something decadently contrary about choosing between a full Irish and a chia pudding, or eggs Benedict and a yoghurt with fruit compote, so I suggest you have both. One for the heart, one for the conscience.
Face First into Luxury with KINS
Then off I head to KINS, the new facial treatment suite at the hotel – and let me tell you, I came out of there positively glowing. Dewy like the Cork rain, but much more expensive-looking. I’m very fussy when it comes to skincare, and the folks at KINS are some kind of alchemists. Also, I’m still not over how relaxing it was. I nearly floated out the door after, though there may first have been the soundtrack for my lovely therapist of some gentle snoring. I make no apologies.
A Rebellion in Every Sip at The River Club
Before I take to the town for a wander, it’s time for a spot of lunch on The River Lee’s gorgeous terrace, perched right on the banks of my own lovely Lee. The food? Local, fresh, and joyful.
Then to The River Club, where I had a cocktail as bold (flamboyant) and as local as myself. I asked for something that tasted like Cork in a glass – and, reader, they delivered. There was probably a poem and a rebellion in there somewhere too, perfectly topped with a Beamish float.
Echoes of The Everyman
In the evening, I headed to The Everyman Theatre, a place very close to my heart. It’s where I made my professional debut many moons ago (the number of moons is none of your business). It is, without doubt, one of the most beautiful theatres you’ll ever set eyes on. Gilded ceilings, velvet seats, ghosts of great performances past – it’s all there. If you fancy a proper theatrical evening with a touch of grandeur and a great crowd, The Everyman never misses. And with my old pal Des Kennedy now at the helm as Artistic Director, it’s in fine hands. I may even pop up on stage again if they’ll have me… After that nostalgia trip, I popped into St Luke’s Church – a place of traditional worship transformed into a place of worship of a different kind. I’ve seen many transfixing performances by Irish and international artists here, but I always forget to bring a cushion. Rookie mistake. Your arse will regret it, even if your soul sings.
Films, Sake and Séances (Probably)
The next morning, fuelled by the best cappuccino and croissant combo this side of the Seine (again in The Mirror Room, because why mess with perfection), I wandered down the river to the Triskel Arts Centre. What an achievement for an arts centre to be still thriving, considering the cuts and difficulties the arts have endured over the years. A testament to Cork’s interest in the obscure and avant-garde, this venue hosts films, visual art, live music, spoken word, installations, probably a séance if you ask nicely. In a previous life I’d drink Japanese sake and dance to trip-hop ‘til the wee hours after rehearsing a new piece of writing, or doing a workshop, or watching a gig. I remember Bonnie Prince Billy doing a live accompaniment to Nosferatu at some point... or was that a fever dream?
Champagne First, Questions Later
Back in The River Lee, I ate the freshest of oysters from out the road in Ballycotton in The Grill Room like I was starring in my own romcom. And there was Champagne, of course, because we all deserve oysters and bubbles. Sláinte.
The Curtain Call at The Opera House
Then to the Opera House, which is where it all went wrong for me… Opera House, you ruined me. This is where I saw my very first panto and the glimpse of the red curtain sparked in me a yearning to perform, which has propelled me into this ill-advised career in showing-off. I recently returned here to perform for the first time in Samuel Beckett’s Happy Days, so yes, things have escalated. Expect to see panto, stand-up, touring musicals, and of course top-class opera. The stairs up to the circle still make me feel very grand altogether. And finally, for the night owls, it’s a trip to Cyprus Avenue. Up the narrow stairs and you’re into a heaven of live music, sweaty joy, and unpredictable magic. One night it’s bluegrass, the next a drag rave. It’s brilliant and bonkers and very much alive. Long may it last.
A Mad Little Cultural Odyssey
So there you have it. Two days of Cork through my eyes – a bit elegant, a bit wild, and full of rascals and vagabonds, flavour, beauty, and personality. The River Lee is the perfect base for this mad little cultural odyssey. It’s got charm, style, and very nice slippers. And honestly, there’s no better feeling than returning to your room after a day of gadding about, kicking off your shoes, and climbing into a bed that’s nicer than your own. I hope you love Cork as much as I do. Actually, no, I hope you love it almost as much as I do. I have to keep some superiority, after all. With affection, and just the smallest of eye-rolls, Siobhán x
