Monday 20th January, offically the most depressing day of the year. Therefore, I had decided in December to come back to the north coast if I wasn’t able to hit the Canary Islands for the next part of the GR131. However, I wasn’t to know that I would be having health issues so things were completely up in the air until 9.30am this morning. In the end I had a nice day, deliberately short so that I didn’t push myself to much. I started with a manic trip in a Bus with a driver contemptuous of his passengers and complacent about the road ahead. I mean, I enjoy speeding as much as the next Joe, but he put the fear of God into the two old pensioners opposite who were pale enough to begin with. Then the terrifying 200 metres or so of coastal boldering under the cliffs. Slippy does not touch it. I managed to land on my arse when I fell. So, all’s good.
In Ballycastle waiting for the Bus. Fair Head which all being well I’ll tackle on Wednesday and in the distance the Mull of Kintyre. They now run a passenger ferrry to Oban – who knew.Dunserverick Castle, heading east this time.The path ahead with Rathlin Island across the sound.,First mile and feet are feeling good. Looking back to Dunserverick.Dunserverick Harbour and no facilities. Not surprising.Memory is a fickle thing. I had though this stone gateway at the top of the beach at Whitepark and here it is a good mile away.And I do not remember the path going through this little cave.It looks like an eroded sculture of a lion’s head. The curls at the top his mane.Whitepark Bay beach ahead.On the rocks all the way from that white house. Bad.Just this easy peasy piece to go past the old hole.The beach and no one to go with the footprints.The lesser known Causeway Coast Coastal cattle. They survive on cruise ship jetsom, usually overdry sponge cake.The tide is in too far to make it around the next head so it’s up and over.Had fun with a sheep field, private property and a barbwire fence but I is on the other side.Fairhead poking through these strange humpty bits.Poor sheep got too close to the sea and a holidaying saltwater Croc stripped him in secs. To add insult to injury, a poodle came along and shit on his remains.The Port Ballintoy hole.The harbour ahead.Who decided to build that faux monstrosity inside the Port Ballintoy limestone cave. Some council dickwad no doubt.The jetty which was Game of Throned if you care to look.
The feet held up much better than I imagined. However, I can not say the same for my hands, which be bitching hot. Hopefully the old pills and ungent will cool things off for tomorrow. Just looking at which shows far too much road for my liking but I do want to link things up.
