Day Twenty-Three

I thought it was going to be another wet struggle of a day today. Just like yesterday but, despite there being a storm blowing when I got up, by the time I got going, around ten, after upsetting some New Zealanders over breakfast by asking which part of Australia they came from, the rain had stopped. The wind was very strong until I got into the shelter of the mountain of Knockore and by the time I left it's cover the wind had died down somewhat. It was a great ride along the sea hugging road beneath the cliffs and hills and sometimes through short tunnels. The sea was quite rough in places on what is normally a sheltered North East facing coast. The road features in the BBC Nick Crane's 'Coast' programme. At one point there is a huge stone carved with an inscription by the Marchioness of Londonderry, one of Winston Churchill's ancestors, following, and commemorating, the 1846-7 famine (well I dare say she never picked up a chisel or a hammer in her life). The part which di
d say that Ireland's poor would be forever grateful to the good lady's generosity has been chiseled out. As she was one of the Rich English landowners that had done little to help the starving poor, it would seem the chiselers were quite justified.

Now, I know that this blog is avidly followed by the Ornithological Society of the Chemistry Department of the Bournemouth School for Scoundrels and up until this point I have recorded little of my bird sightings on this trip. Today I saw lots of oyster catchers, some with young and one oystercatcher suffering from an identity problem as it seemed to think it was a jackdaw, because it was following and feeding with a flock of some thirty jackdaws. Also saw herons, crows, rooks, swallows (getting late) herring and black headed gulls, a Brent goose, curlews, mallard ducks, swans, one Canadian Goose and four seals (I know they are not birds but the Chemistry Department of BSS also has a marine mammal society.) The seals were bobbing up and down a few metres beyond the surf, sleeping, or maybe they were bird watching as well.

It was a lovely ride and the wild conditions added to my enjoyment. The coast road hugs the shore for some 30 kms until it reaches Larne where urban decay sets in. Larne still has an active port with ferries crossing to Scotland but a lot of the dock land is derelict.

I under estimated the distance today and had to get my head down for the last 30 kms, over a hill and into Carrickfergus where I was only 316 years too late to see William of Orange land before he went off to win the Battle of Boyne. An event which is still kept alive by the Orange Order here in Ulster.

The Coast Road Hotel is a bit worn around the edges but the food was good tonight and the Guinness is as good as ever. I chatted to Alan, a printer who has lived in this town for ages and originally from Belfast. His father has moved to Brittany and he is soon off to visit. He says that the boy racers that seemed to be in every wee town from Donegal to Malin, but not, it would seem, here in Northern Ireland, were probably all from Londonderry (which is what I should learn to call Derry whilst in Carrickfergus). It was a good chat but I was having to guess what he was saying most of the time. The 'broken glass' Antrim accent is not so easy as your old Cosy 'turf fire' accent of the Southern Ireland smoothies.

I will only have a short ride of some 15kms tomorrow into Belfast. Although the remnants of Hurricane Gordon are forecast to arrive overnight. Broth arrives from Liverpool on Saturday morning and we'll be off to paint Belfast Orange, or maybe green or perhaps Red, White and Blue.

I was suddenly hit by a fit of worry today as I cycled through the small village of Glynn which had slogans all over the the walls for the UVF and "NO SURRENDER" painted not very subtly, but very neatly, in the
centre of the main road and every bit of wall painted red, white and blue because I had chosen today today to where my emerald green cycling top.

Don't miss the final instalments of 'Grahamonbikeagain'

69 kms today.

Night, Night