Very chilly today, if I’m lucky it might make it up to 4 degrees after lunch. The wind is the killer though, but I’m heading mainly west so it should be over my right shoulder most of the day.
The ruins of Dunserverick castle. God, it must have been bleak out here in the winter and that’s for the aristocracy. Rathlin island and once more the sun is shining over the Mull of Kintyre.The first few headlands and coves.Looking back towards Ballintoy – behind the most sticky out bit. The sea has already knocked flat those basalt cliffs.The lonely fisher hut at Port Moon.Why would you want more than 100 metres of concrete in your field? I thought maybe it was the remains of a runway but can find no record of anything here during the 2nd world war, though just over the hill is a watch post.I’ve got to traverse the angry sheep field.The basalt cliffs sit on top of an older weathered red layer from 60 Million years ago.Which happened a few times as the basalt eroded in the inter-lava periods. These columns are a bit far out for the touristos.There’s even a mini causeway.Malin head in the distance. I seem to remember descending the cliffs to the path at their base – an arduous, dangerous slide down a small river course and waterfalls – to travel the last 3 or 4 miles to the Giant’s Causeway. You can just see it on the cliff across the way. Bloody millennials. There is probably a meme, or whatever you lot call it, describing a point halfway between Dunseverick and the Giant’s Causeway where, if you try your ribbon together with the rest on the fence on the cliff path, you will keep some irrelevant platfrom’s streak going.Three bays to go to refreshement.I notice that there are a few seats along the way. Sitting down in the wind is not recommended.That’s the old causeway in the middle, in front of the two little mounds. I’ve given up on finding a way down. All look lethal. Maybe now you can only get down at the causeway and have to do a return job.I feel ya mate. Time for coffee and a sit down in the warm.The Causeway centre is now hidden underground beside the old white hotel.Lough Foyle in the distance and Portballintrae poking out on the left.A sulky wizard wrapped in his cloak.Runkerry beach on the left then across the last headland to a warm shower. Think I’ve f’d my cold, not cured it.Once there was a bridge.Bless the hard working amenities folk from the council. They managed to replace it while working from home.Runkerry, wild and windy.A pretty arch for the river. Those were the days when the council amenities boys had pride in their labour.The storm wrack contains a load of this alien looking blue jelly which is strewn all along the beaches.The bridge over the Bush river which has, upstream a way, the mills of fame. It is guarded – beware.The hotel and all that glorious hot water approaches.
How strange it was to do this again after all these years. The cliffs and the views haven’t changed, though there are many more houses and apartments in Portballintrae, but the path is well cared for and the farm land is well fenced off – not that it seems to work. It has created a hankering to revisit all the places I’ve been to in Ulster to see how they changed since, but then again there are so many other things and places to see that I’ve never been to that need a visit. Very pleasant even in the chill, though I am very tired. Whether that is down to my months of inactivity or my ancient carcass will be revealed if I attempt the very difficult stages in Fuerteventura.
