But first a quick “Danke” to my friend Werner Motzet who on my recent wee trip to Munich drove down some 100 miles from his home for a chat, a meal and some beer (Well for me anyway Werner was driving). The two of us “put the world to rights” covering topics as diverse as Social Business, ibm i5 domino and metaphysical apologetics! Which as those of you that know me will understand that is not only RIGHT up my street but it is  drinking my cup of tea Thank you Werner and I owe you a similar night the next time we meet!

Also rather worryingly my interesting use of english (*Val’s edit* = inability to spell of read what he has just typed) I may have convinced another chum to read Jame Joyce. An odd consequence of trying to type “YODA” on the HTC and it correcting it to “TOSS” on twitter lead to me having to explain what I meant. I excused myself by a rather rash comparison to the wonderful splendiferous Mr Joyce’s work and as a result my friend Femke Goedhart is having a go at “Portrait of the artist as a young man” and “Ulysses“  now for me Joyce is a painter who uses words adn I love him to bits. However even for native English speakers he can be .. challenging .. i expect queries as the meaning of some of his more inventive phrases. Thank goodness I did not mention Brendan Behan!

Anyhows … onto spacetime … i am for my sins a lover of hard sums and the easiest sums at first glance are sometimes the hardest to get your head around, and so it is with E=mc^2.
Passing through Birmingham airport I happened upon this slim volume by Prof Brian Cox and Jeff Forshaw “Why Does E=mc^2? (an why should we care?)” and I just HAD to buy it!

Now I will leave the heavy insightful book reviews to Duffbert but I do have to say that this wee book does a fine job of explaining in some detail how the universe does what it does but without recourse to hard sums, the first 150 pages are nice and easy the rest get a bit intense at times, but remain understandable . excellent A+ gold star … oh i did spot an error on P27 they tell us that sound in air changes with varying atmospheric pressure .. ah no it doesn’t … the speed of sound in air is totally independent of pressure. It only depends on the Temperature, the Average Molecular Weight and the Adiabatic Index (1.4 for air), so THERE .. Nah nah nah nah nah.   <= smug geek quotient approaches infinity =>

(PS Val and Eileen Fitzy want me to add that sadly there are no pictures of the bold professor Cox either clothed or naked )

Right I have reached the bedtime event horizon and the joys of climbing through a bog on the eastern slopes of Bendradagh with my chum Andy start early tomorrow… toodle pip for the now

Benbradagh

My sageous words of this even-tide concern small happenings from long ago that echo through the decades. Rather than sit on my arse this evening watching Inspector Montellbano on the TV I thought would wander down to my local and have a pint or two and just watch the world go by with a chum. So it was this in mind I did just that and ended up sitting on the steps of  “The Old Courthouse” sipping a pint of Guinness.

The Old Court house

… and twas there I was approached by a lady, the conversation went thusly :-

Her: Excuse me can I interupt?

Me: Of course

Her: Do you remember 1974?

Me: Errrrrr… not really

Her: You were at a scout/guide disco and you asked me to dance

Me: I did?

Her: Yes – it was my first disco and you were the first boy I ever danced with

after a moment of full text index searching of deep memory:
Me: …. oh .. yes.. was it T-Rex “Get It On”?

(now why i remember the song I have no idea at all but i did)

Her: Yes [big smile] you remember?!!! That was it. It was the first disco my parents allowed me to go to and everyone was dancing except me and you asked me to dance
and I just wanted to say thank you … so … thank you.

Me: errrr… no problem …

Her: My Friends were all asked to dance before me and I was terrified but you were nice to me – it was a good first dance.

Me: [now blushing furiously] Sure thats fine, no problem ….

…and with that she turned and went back to her husband who was standing some feet away.

Now I have to add at this point than the memory of the incident is very very weak it being 38 years ago, I do remmeber that we were told to dance with “ALL” the guides and there may have been a scout leader poking me with a stick so perhaps my act of kindness was not quite so spontaneous as the lassie thinks.

But then .. for whatever reason she remembered the disco, the song and the fact I asked her to dance even after all these years. So in this world of “Social enablement” and an overpowering desire for celebrity it would pay us all to remember that it is not just the BIG things we do that we will be remembered by.
The things that to us are small and insignificant may be big important things to others … A fact that my dance partner from long long ago brought home to me today.

Thank you for the “thank you” I am almost positive it was not deserved however I did appreciate you saying it and thank you for remembering.

Benevenagh in the Mist

A short walk at 6 miles,but it is one that both stretches the thighs getting to the top and on the descent treats the eyes to a close up view of the cathedral cliffs that mark the end of Ireland and the start of the Atlantic … on the sofa this evening it set me to thinking  as to why this place and others are important to me – and this is what I thought.

My father’s face is in the rock of the mountain
The voice of my father is on the wind that blows
A voice for sons to hear.
That speak of flying higher than an buzzard,
to run faster than the hare in March,
to swim as freely as the bright  river trout,
to have the cunning of the fox,
and to have the wisdom of the fresh run salmon.
These are the words that sing in the wind,
words that never leave home.

I suppose I shouldn’t moan at least it is a nod in the right direction even if it is a last minute attempt at making whatever it is they do purchase seem as if they put some thought into it. Gone it seems are the days of  “courting” which as far as I know and as I remember my Dad telling me “… is something a chap needs to keep doing long after the confettii has been swept away and the last crumb of wedding cake scoffed.”

Now I am no great shakes at the whole romance thing, I am the wrong shape to be classically romantic, so I try for “wind swept and interesting” which mostly now comes across as “flatulent and unsettling” … such are the cards middle age deals us
That aside I can and sometimes do stop reading tech manuals and read things that perhaps you would not ,looking at me, think I would like. With that in mind I would like to recommend to you the “100 Love Sonnets” by Pablo Neruda who can shape a word to fit the moment better than any card or box of chocolates. I am proud to steal his words as they say in 6 lines all that needs to be said from me to Val on Valentines Day

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep

PS I did buy a card in plenty of time and yes it is a nice one

This is the picture and it is JUST marvellous

I had been really looking forward to seeing our friends Stephen and Aisling, who were coming up from Dublin for the weekend.But as the week progressed I knew there was something wrong. I just didn’t feel quite right. I wasn’t  sleeping very well, not that I ever do anyway. I felt very jittery, uneasy,nervous, a bit weepy …generally unsettled.

Then, slowly but surely, there it was,lurking round the periphery of my vision,the unmistakable shape of a black hole. Not the black holes beloved by the one and only Prof “pwooaar ” Brian Cox. No. These are the black holes that creep up behind you, surround you, smother you, suck you in and hold you prisoner in their inky nothingness.

Still , I didn’t recognise it.

Stephen and Aisling arrived on Friday and although it was lovely to see them I was really struggling to join in with the laughter and conversation. All I wanted to do was go to bed and stay there.

Still, I didn’t recognise it.

Hubby was taking them walking round the coast on Saturday so they were going to be away most of the day. I stayed in bed. I didn’t want to get up.I didn’t want to go out for a meal when they came home. I didn’t want to be sociable. I wanted to crawl away and hide under the duvet.

Still, I didn’t recognise it.

I DID go out for a meal and although I tried to join in the conversation , it was soo difficult. Thankfully Stephen(my OH) could “talk the hind leg off a donkey” so I don’t think anyone noticed I wasn’t my usual chatty self. At this point I HAVE to mention the Charco banoffee pie with banana ice cream, toffee sauce and spun sugar dessert. Despite my not being”quite right,” I was “with it “enough to register the fact that it was,without doubt, a “lick the plate” pud. Not that I did, of course.

Still, I didn’t recognise it.

We came home, settled onto the sofas, had some drinks and as they say here in Ireland, “the craic was fierce.” Brilliant conversation , stories, jokes, laughter… but I wanted to go to bed and hide under the duvet. I didn’t . I stayed up and tried to join in .I think  I managed ok.

Still, I didn’t recognise it.

Sunday morning came. I should have been going out for a drive with them and then lunch in Ground Espresso. Normally you wouldn’t have to ask twice. We LOVE Ground. I didn’t go . I stayed in bed, hidden under the duvet. I didn’t want to get up. I wanted to cry. I didn’t know why. I DID get up ,eventually.

I made a coffee and was just about to take my pills when something made me stop? Pills for UC, huge white things which invariably get stuck in your throat, check. Multivitamin /mineral pill, torpedo shaped cream one, check. Omega something or other for joints, heart and UC, gigantic brown torpedo capsule, check. Blue/ green one to stop me going “doolally” again, small torpedo capsule, ch…!!!??? Where was my “happy pill?” Had I already taken it? No , I knew I hadn’t . I had only just opened the Sunday compartment  of my weekly pill dispenser . Slowly the realisation started to dawn on me. I checked all the other wee daily compartments.Big white pills,cream torpedoes,huge brown torpedoes but NO blue/ green happy pills!!!

I broke down and cried then, but with relief.

Now, I recognised it.My depression was back.

I had got my repeat prescription during the week and had forgotten to refill the pill dispenser. I have NEVER forgotten before. Why I forgot , I have no idea. Why I didn’t notice , I have no idea. Maybe it was a senior moment, who knows?

I am now back on my anti depressants and the black hole is gradually receding into a”galaxy, far far away ” no doubt to be admired and studied by the pwooaar Prof Cox!

Lesson to self. Check your pills. Really, really frightening just how quickly the blackness returned. DO NOT want that happening again.Now just need to rewind, do the weekend all over again with MORE drink , conversation, laughter, drink , oh and DOUBLE banoffee pie ))

Kev was closely associated with our dear friend, colleague, ubergeek and Lego minifig model Paul Mooney. Their association spans many years, replete with adventures smiles and a few tears and his passing to the celestial bowl in the sky will be mourned by many none more so that Paul himself.

Little is publicly known about those early days of Paul and Kev as the piscean subject of this eulogy was at heart a gentlefish and not given to blowing his own bubbles about his life or works. Since his sad passing has freed this commentator from the bindings of propriety and the requirement within goldfishean society to be humble at all times, I now  feel justified in telling you the details of his life and works.

It all started in Fintastic Aquatic in Patrick Street in Dublin. The young Mr Mooney would run each Saturday down to the aforementioned piscean establishment with his pocket money in his hand, his heart beating wildly in the hope that this week he would have raised enough money garnered from the pennies raised from being a garden gnome stunt double in RTE Children’s epic “The 6 million punt leprechaun” to buy one of the many beautiful ornamental fish found within that august establishment.

Panting he would arrive, small face pressed against the glass in awe of the Angel Fish, gobsmacked by the Gobies and electrified by the eels and on that warm June afternoon he saw a bright orange flash dart from behind a plastercast model of the Black Pearl and he was hooked, so to speak, this was the fish of his boyhood dreams. this was the fish for him.Transaction complete and his new companion swiming in a clear plastic bag young Mooney jumped on the number 11 bus and headed for home.

As the journey to home progressed and as is the way in Ireland it started to rain and pisseth it did and mightly! But the inclement weather did little to dampen the joy and excitment of young Mooney as he passed through Drumcondra, Leeson street and the heady heights of the North Circular road. … It should however have reminded him to exercise the caution and common sense hammered into him by mother and elder brothers about use of excessive exhuberance around puddles … young Paul not being blessed in the height department.

On this day Paul was too full of his new fish, now named Kevin, and not looking carefully enough fell head long into a deep puddle not yards from his house. Being an ambitious chap with a mind to the future Paul had spent all his free time learning Windows 3.11 installation procedures (and dreaming of fish) and had neglected to learn the fine art of self propelled aquatic propulsion or “swimming” as it is know to heathen northern Protestants.

As Paul’s head dipped under the surface of the puddle for the 5th time, the bag holding Kevin burst allowing the plucky piscean to swim free. Quick as a flash Kevin turned and swam under the struggling Paul and carried him on his back for 10 minutes until a passing Guard was able to resuce the sodden Paul from his predicament.

Kevin was hailed as a hero by the denizens of Ballymunn and the extended Mooney family so it was not surprising that in recognition of the fantastic fishy bravery and pluck, Dublin Corporation commisioned “Tessilation” Terry McNoughtery, famed around the world for his mosaics to create a piece to commemorate this day for all time.

To this day outside Macari’s shoppers pass over the now world famous mosaic cebrating Kev the goldfish saving young Mr Mooney’s life …

Fare thee well Kev, swim free in the celestial bowl of happiness!

looking at my stats collected by Cardiotrainer (an Android app) I averaged 99.75 miles a month, and of the 1000 miles I did 478 miles of uphill walking and 522 miles of downhill walking – not quite sure why I have and excess of downhill walking, perhaps the bon mot that “everything goes downhill after 50″ is actually true. I averaged a speed of 3.1 mph and burned 627 bananas worth of calories (they also use avacadoes but I HATE avacadoes).

Since I am looking at 1200 miles this year I have re-set my target to 1300 miles which means I have to walk 150 miles in Feb 150 miles in March (and the first 10 days of April) which is do-able but not easy-peasy.

The crew certainly do seem to get the audience going and occasionaly they play some proper Trance and Prog inbetween bouts of Dub Step and Techno

Niall your mum and I are well proud of you! Keep up the good work and Tidy you room and put your laundry away!

..and this strange “thing” is thinking.

I can think thoughts that don’t have the next meeting or current problem cluttering up the inbox of my attention. Being in the “social” side of IT is great but it does lead to cognitive constipation from time to time.

I would like to share with you my thoughts on the way home this evening, no startling insights, no fandabbydozy application ideas just some thoughts….

Since you are probably reading this on a lap top, PC, mobile phone or tablet I can assume that you like me are are sitting somewhere comfortable and warm probably just after a meal or a coffee with a nice jaffa cake or other choccie biccie. I know I am and it is coffee in a STIG mug with a Tunnocks Caramel Log!

I was thinking “how lucky am I? I have my wife, my son, my home I am warm I am well fed, watered and my worries minor, I am about to take 9 days of paid holidays, I am going to see family and friends and have a real good time”.

I have to say I was feeling more than a little smug … but it did set me to wondering just how lucky am I?

So I hit Google and a lookie see … I was gob smacked … now I know the world is not a pretty place but according to the World Bank (not an organisation know for it’s lefty leanings) there are 2 billion+ people on this blue marble we call home living on less that $1.25  a day (that’s £0.80 in proper money). To be blunt that is a full third of the world’s population would have to starve for 2 days to be able to afford a M&S Ham Sandwich!

According to UNICEF 21,000 children under the age of 5 died today. that is one child every 4 seconds! When we roll over into 2012 in a couple of days time 8 million children under 5 will have died of preventable diseases, hunger and poverty in 2011.

I will say that again … 8 MILLION!!!

Frightening isn’t it?

So as you prepare for the laughter and joys of this holiday period I would like to ask you to spare a thought for those both near and far that are not as lucky as you and I. Buy one less bottle of wine, spend a little less on presents, buy one less round of drinks at the pub and give what you can to whatever charity you like because it will make a difference!

Now that rather sad  yet important message has been said ….
all the McDonaghs at #14 and #10 wish all our friends, family, readers and basically everyone (including the people I don’t really like that much) a midwinter break full of  smiles, hugs, laughter and joy – just the thing to set us up for a good start to 2012. =-)

Love to you all
Steve, Val and Niall

I dander the full 17 mile length of the Giant’s Causeway at least once a year and 2011 was no exception. As for the last 4 years the walk is one where I am fire out an invite to all and sundry to come join me and this year was no exception I was joined by Andy Clark, Mary, Ashling Dearle and Stephen Mooney. Sadly Eileen Fitzgerald who had wanted to come found herself injured and thought it best on this occasion to have a weekend off and let her injuries heal. Friday night drinkies were drunk before delivering Ashling and Stephen over to my mother’s spare room for a relatively early night.

The Team Photo

The problem with dandering in winter is the available daylight is reduced to a minimum of 7 hours which is just about right for 17 miles if you start bright and early in the morning which is what we managed to do. Starting in Balintoy at 9:30am we headed west into a brightening day. Several of the team had not been up in this neck of the woods before so every corner was new to them which was rather nice as it does one good to show off the natural beauty of one’s back yard. Being gifted with living in an AONGD (Area of Naturally Outstandingly Great Dandering) one can become blasé about the environment.

White Park Bay

Off around the coast we wandered and onto the fine stretch of sand that is White park bay, through the odd little hamlet of Portbradden with it’s cannons anchor and smallest chapel in the north ( St. Gobban’s), (Note to self – it could do with a tea room for Danderers)

Portbradden

And onward westerly through the natural arch locally called “The Eye” under Templastragh church

"The Eye" on the coast path

Dunseverick

And on past Dunseverick Castle or what is left of it, which admittedly is not a lot but you get the idea that there was a castle there and it did (does) have a spectacular view and has some interesting myths. I really must write down the story of “The Sorrowing of Conal Cernach” one of these days… Anyway …this is the point at which thing start going up onto the causeway cliff path above the columnar rocks that make up the natural wonder that is the Giant’s causeway. Given there was a wee bit of up and downery I had to pull back a little and let the gammy leg recover a couple of times. But I am glad to say the frequency I have to do this is slowly decreasing as the leg gets used to the abuse I on occasions throw at it. The rest of our merry crew had no difficultly and even the other Stephen (not a regular walker) was keeping up a steady lick

The Causeway from 200m above

Sadly the Shepard’s Steps were closed so we couldn’t get down onto the causeway itself and had to keep to the cliff path, but this meant we got the alternate ..”Feck it is a long way down” view from “the causeway pulpit”. and yes that is the edge of the cliff in the picture. Mr Mooney I have to say has no fear of heights or the falling off same, thankfully it wasn’t too windy!

From there on through Portballintrae were we stopped for a drink, a sandwich and a rest of the legs looking out over the bay.

The Wee Cottage, Dunluce

Then up and onward towards Portrush and the finishing line. Now we were blessed with some cracking weather for November. Stunning clouds, not to much wind and the occasional flash of sun, in fact it was that mild that we were all down to fleeces by the time we went round “ooh ahh” corner and caught sight of Dunluce Castle for the first time and as fortune would have it the only rain of the day started to fall JUST as we passed Andy’s cousin Avril’s tea room “The Wee Cottage” where we took shelter and indulged in the danderers delight – Scones, butter, cream, raspberry jam,a slice or two of fresh  strawberry, pancakes direct from the griddle with butter, lemon juice, maple syrup and of course BIG mugs of tea. Once the rain

Sunset

having eased and daylight being at a premium we headed off again, down onto the East Strand at the white rocks and into a specially arranged amazing sunset we arrived back in Portrush’s Harbour bar, tired and bang on the expected end time.

A Grand days dandering with good chums, great craic and brilliant weather what more could you ask for?

Back home for a quick shower and then we repaired back to the Harbour Bar for some grub. It has to be said that when i mentioned to Niall (my son) did he want some £’s for a takeaway or would he like to come and join “the olds” in the harbour it took all of a nanosecond for him to say “the harbour please” such is the drawing power of that establishment … and once again the HB did not let us down a fine time was had by all

The next day Ashling Stephen and I did Mussenden and Gortmore up the Bishop’s road, well we have a plethora of wonderful views, why shouldn’t I not show it off

A great weekend dandering loads of craic, thanks to all for coming!!!

Since I had done the westerly walk last week this week I decided that it would be a easterly dander this week, so with this in mind it was off to Ballycastle at 9am this morning into the teeth of a North Easterly gale. Not the best dandering weather but it didnt half make the views stunning!.

The Children of Lir

I have to say Moyle council have done their rate payers proud with this bit of public art based on The Children of Lir, and old tale of evil step-parents, spells and sadness. Basically Fionnuala, Aodh, Fiachra and Conn the children of King Lir were changed into swans for 1000 years and as part of their wanderings they came to the straits of Moyle and as a result of this tale many houses have ornamental swans and this this recent stainless steel sculptural representation of the 4 cursed children just takes my breath away, well done Moyle council!

Kabooooooooosh!

Fair Head is a favourite walk of mine and today it did not let me down! The North channel that separates Ireland from Scotland is narrow and full of dangerous currents and tidal rips which means that it is not a nice flat bit of water at the best of times. Today it was torn by a 6 foot swell and very high tide. Incidentally I have discovered one of the secrets of Professional Photographers .. when taking pictures of big waves ensure that you are watching your feet as well as the waves for failure to do that leads to very

An "Oooh Ahhh" moment

wet feet in addition to spectacular photographs. The wind and sharp heavy squalls of rain had kept all but the most hardy folks (like me) in their beds, this sadly meant that the stunning views and raw elemental beauty of the north coast in the teeth of a November gale was lost to the majority of the locals. But then again getting muck all over your feet, up the legs of your trousers (what is called locally as being “Clabbered to the knee”) and getting buffeted and  blown hither and thither is probably not everyone’s cup of tea on a Sunday morning .. *sigh* aye well tis their loss and my gain!.

Ballycastle from Fair Head

I kept up a good lick and made the top of Fair head in a couple of hours and then started the wander back into Ballycastle down the back roads of Ballyvoy, Barnish and Corrymeela. Which while not as spectacular as the coastal path has the merit of being very quiet and when walking alone it affords the danderer moments of reflection that help to put the week just finished into perspective and set you up for the one that is being born as you walk.

Old Cross

I have walked this road many many times over the last 35 years yet I have never noticed this old celtic cross planted in the hedge on the left hand side of the road about a mile outside Ballycastle. It is marked on the Ordinance Survey Map as a Cross but I had always looked for it closer to Bonamargy Friary and missed it. Which just goes to show that you see new exciting things most days if you just get out there and look

So that’s it … a post about dandering, friends, food, swans, muck, waves, gales and forgotten crosses when push comes to shove what more can a body ask for in life

Toodle pip for the now.

So it is let’s see 23:50 I am drinking beer, listening to hard core trance remixes and wondering why are I am sitting around on my arse watching the world go to hell in a hand basket, 30 years ago I would be painting placards, protesting, knocking the helmets off policemen and doing odd things to traffic cones… so what has changed?

I sit transfixed by reports of the shitty economy, the bail out deals, those nasty campaginers in their smelly tents outside St.Pauls cathedral DO THEY NOT KNOW IT IS A CHURCH AND THE BABY JESUS IS CRYING BECAUSE OF THEM!!!…. ooops sorry I must have stood too close to a copy of the Daily Mail when I was in town today … where was I? … oh yes in mid-toilet metaphor … I (and as far as I can see so is everyone else) am transfixed as I watch “my life” slide slowly down the quantatively-eased-unethically-invested-massively-bounesed porcelain sides of the “free market” toilet.  The sides of the self same toilet have been well greased with the lick-spittle of that economic toilet duck, Alan Greenspan and his cronies. I have been so caught up in the wonderous guff spouted by the very people that got us in this fucking mess about how they are going to “fix” it that I have only just noticed that the fecking Bankers have stolen all the metaphorical  toilet paper and the populations of whole countries like Greece, Italy and dear old Ireland will have to hop around, their collective trousers around their ankles hoping someone (probably China) has a tissue we can borrow.

Are we totally buggered? Is this why the Mayan Calendar ends next year? I hope not but I do have one question. Why are we letting the very people who got us into this mess get us out. They didn’t “notice the flaw” the first time so why oh why oh why will they be any better now? Have we all gone totally mad??

Sod this for a game of soliders, I am off to bed, before I start planning a revolution that involves bankers, economists, their over paid arses and red hot pokers!

Portstewart harbour

Out again this Sunday with Andy Clark and his tireless Springer/Cocker puppy “Tara” and the destination choosen was the small harbour town of Portstewart some 5 miles away from Chez McDonagh. Oddly, given the last few days of deluge, pish and mizzel the fact that the day started with an azure blue sky, a hint of autumnal frost and the odd whisp of mist, meant that the bold Mr Clarke and I set off on our weekly dander with a spring in our steps that was uncommon for the time of year

OHara's Castle

Our walk took us along the prom and up under O’Hara’s Castle now home of the Dominican convent school and along the nun’s walk past Port na’happle and down onto Portstewart Strand. This is a well trodden Sunday Dander for the amateur danderer. Although at 9am on a sunday morning there were few if any fellow strollers out and about.

Although there were a flock of cormorants and gulls making an unholy row on the rocks under the play park near the witch’s hat. As a fisherman I have mixed feelings about cormoants and the whole shag family. If they are around then there are fish around however … they fish a little to well

Impromptue Art

On the wander around we passed the site of the old Strand Hotel site of many an evening of bacchanalian excess in both Mr Clark’s and my ancient history and on the rock we came apon an act of impromptue art. The Whys and Wherefores remain a mystery and it stands there testament to someone taking 10 minutes to make a balanced cairn of 4 stones as a monument to.. well … something.

I applaud them and it makes a damn fine photo on this glorious morning!

Portstweart Strand

Onward over the rise and down onto what is for me one of the finest stretches of sand anywhere in the world….. Portstewart Strand. With the north atlantic on one side and the rich earth of the Bann esturary on the other this 3 miles of shore yhas much of interest to the walker. In 2000, the 180 acre dune system at Portstewart was included within the Bann Estuary Area of Special Scientific Interest, for the rare and fragile habitats/wildlife that it supports. In particular many species of butterflies and orchids including the rare bee orchid have been recorded, and can be viewed from the way marked trails. The combination of open sand, dunes and damp hollows or slacks provides a mosaic of habitats rich in plants and insects. The dunes reach heights of up to 100ft, were formed around 6,000 years ago and have significant Neolithic archaeological interest… and most importantly it was also the beach where I first managed to stand up on a surf board and ride a wave. A fact sadly missing from the information boards posted along the paths.

We dander the full length of the beach and then at the bar mouth where the river Bann meets the see we turned in and walked through the dunes down the way marked trail turning inland at the end of the Golf course to appear once again on the outskirts of Burnside and from there it was a road walk back to the car and home.

It was odd and worthy of repeating that I sit here typing in November and I have a tight hot sun tingled forehead .. weird very weird!

I started walking for the health benefits but now that is only a small, but important, part of why I walk. I would posit that the pleasure I find in wandering around is solidly placed in nosiness. I like seeing things, things that are perhaps ordinary and easily dismissed, then once found to look at them in new ways. Dandering is not like running or gym work, dandering is, perhaps, a more cerebral activity, it is about taking time to look around to see things that perhaps you wouldn’t notice if you were running, biking or bustling along. It challenges you to separate yourself from your day to day life. It allows you the small experiential luxuries of seeing, touching and smelling things in a way you are not allowed to in normal life.

Today is Samhain (pronounced Saw-in) in Gaelic tradition which has evolved into the rather mixed up and confused “Halloween” in popular culture . Samhain is where the end of the light half of the year touches the start of the dark half, it was traditionally a time to celebrate the harvest, to have a bit of a feast, and at that feast set a place for those absent through death or happenstance. We remember who we are and how we sit in the context of our families, friends and the wider community.

Twiggy handwriting etched on a stomy sky

As Autumn moves into Winter it may seem like sad, bleak, glum time and not a time for happiness and celebration but such is the nature of place we call home … but … trees … there is beauty in leafless trees that I had missed before and today I took a moment to admire the lovely handwriting of one old tree’s twigs against the sky. While winter is a season of reserves, a reticent season, it does not throw its treasure into my outstretched hands I must seek it, watch for it, and learn to appreciate the beauty of its subtle colours.

So as we step once again into the gathering dark of Winter, I for one challenge you gentle reader not to wrap yourself up in dreams of summer but to seek out the treasures this season has to offer and celebrate them when you find them ;-

(more pictures from my dander are here)

Binevenagh (courtesy of Magilligan Gliders)

Righty Ho! Sunday’s dander this week was up a ridge on the North Coast above Magilligan. The ridge in question is Binn Fhoibhne (Foibhne’s peak – remember “bh” in irish is a “v”)  or Binevenagh in English.  This ridge marks the old coast line when in times ancient the sea level was a lot higher. Part of the greater Giants causeway it runs along the coast from Castlerock in the East to the Sperrins in the west and is yet another summit the “Bog Faeries” had to tick off their list of “Summits for the weekend”.

The Moon stayed up late for the Rugby Semi Finals

Oddly for October and even more odd given the ghastly misely pish of yesterday, today started with an azure blue sky and a slight breeze. Not summer by any stretch of the imagination but one of those rare Autumn mornings where both the sun and moon were hanging on in the blue blanket of the heavens, probably waiting to see if Australia or New Zealand made it to the Rugby world cup finals.

St.Aidan's

Andy picked me up at Chez McDonagh at 8:30 am  and we arrived at the walk start point just before 9.am. We start at a place long steeped in mystery both pagan and Christian. The earliest remains of a church at St Aidan’s date back to the 13th century The Church, originally known as Tamhlacht Oirthear Arda, became known first as Teampall Chadáin or St Cadan’s Church, and this through similarity in pronunciation was altered to St Aidan’s. St Cadan was a follower of St Patrick and his grave lies under the gable of the medieval ruins. Whether St.Aidan of Lindisfarne had anything to do with this church is a moot point

St.Aidan's Well

There is a “holy” well beside the ruins which is reputed to cure any ill if the water is applied to the affected area. Excavations and local lore would indicate that this well has been in continuous spiritual use for thousands of years even as far back as the pre-christian era. Never being one to pass a chance, I had a wee drinkie and I am happy to report that I have some 10 hours later suffered no ill effects and my insides seem to be in fine fettle however it seems I am still a gobsite and these miraculous waters have perhaps not the power that has been ascribed to them.

Now the walk itself has been documented in several places however it is a shortish dander and not really long enuff for Andy and I .. so we Tweaked it a little to make it more like a proper walk and not a rather steep stroll. This is what we did….

Enter St.Aidan’s graveyard above the well and walk along the path and take the step almost directly in front of you. There is a sign that warns the steps are slippy and the paths muddy … THEY ARE NOT LYING!!. Take the steps and at the top you will find a gate, go through it and continue up the small forest path. In a couple of hundred yards you will come to a more substantive track that crosses yours. Ignore it and cross and continue in the direction of the original path. Be warned this is very slippy and muddy and claimed Andy on the way up and me on the way down. Our mucky bums stand witness to the conditions under foot. You will be climbing all the way up though the forest and in places it can be quite steep but it is generally easy going.

Coming out of the Forest

At the top of the path you will come to a sturdy style, cross it and turn left and climb a short rise and you will be greeted with your first proper sight of the cliffs. which it has to be said are very impressive and not a little daunting.
The going changes here to firm grassy meadow, but be careful there are lots of scattered granite boulders which could cause a trip to the unwary walker!

I believe this is a Welsh Cobb

There is a path of sorts which runs along the edge of the forest. Follow this keeping the forest on your left and the cliffs on your right. You will cross several walls and fences but all have either gates or styles. Please close any gates you open and keep your dogs under control if you have them with you! There are sheep, cows and horses in these fields!. Eventually you will come to a more substantial path that leads down into the forest again and the forest turns up to near the base of the cliffs.

Ulster Way Sign Post

Ignore this path and head up to the base of the cliffs and continue along the edge of the forest, through more gates and styles. Soon the forest reaches right up to the cliff edge and you should go through a gate and follow the path along for a while, still climbing until you come to a picnic table and an “Ulster way” Signpost.  LIke all sign posts you should totally ignore it if you follow it to the the right you end up on the road heading for Downhill and Castlerock. Instead take the track opposite the signpost that leads up hill. This is a forestry track and covered in loose sharp stones so go canny!. Follow the track up until it meets an intersecting track going left to right. Turn Right and continue on. After a few 100 yards the track just stops. However you should be able to make out a track leading up into the recently cleared area. It does look rather like a stream but it is actually a track.

Gortmore on the bishops road

Don’t forget to look behind you, something walkers are prone not to do, if you do you will be treated to a view over to the escarpment at Gortmore on the Bishop’s Road … and yes that is a blue sky in Norn Iron in October and yes it was quite warm!! Follow the path up until you meet the tree line. Beware!! The cliffs are about 100m to your right so keep on the path with the trees to your left!

After 1km you will come to a firebreak and the path veers to the right and takes you to within a few feet of the edge of the cliffs… it is one f**k of a long way down so keep your dogs on the lead and your wits about you. Just before you reach Binevenagh lake you will be treated to a stunning view of Donegal in the distance and Lough Foyle and Magilligan strand laid out, billiard table smooth, below you.

Binevenagh Lake

Binevenagh lake is a good place to stop and have a coffee at around 3.5 miles in and you will need it. The walk up until now has been all up hill and steep in places. There is a small damn at the end of the lake right on the path and this is a good place to stop and sit and take in the view. Although the walk has been lovely up to now the best is yet to come!.

Glider

Once rested and coffeed keep on the path and leave the lake behind you, If you are lucky you may see gliders skim the ridge top only feet above your head.

If you are REALLY lucky you will see nature’s gliders, falcons, buzzards and even an eagle. No such luck for us today but we did have 3 man made gliders for company.

The Narrow Path

Follow the path down and soon you will come to a VERY VERY Steep bit that runs down the steep ground at the end of cliffs. Around half way down turn right and follow one of the sheep paths along the cliffs between cathedral high buttresses and in and out of depressions, ridges and hummocks. This is truly stunning and well worth the effort of getting around. There are some pretty sheer slopes, but they are grassy and the risk of injury is slight,

Cliffs

Mind you, be careful of the boulders that are scattered everywhere having fallen from the cliffs above which are … well … pretty awesome.

Follow the cliffs around until you find a bright blue pipe running along the ground. Follow this pipe down and you will end up back in the meadow at the top of the forest. Turn left and you will find the style and then it is just a case of following the path back to the car park at St.Aidan’s.

This walk is not the longest at 7 Miles, not the highest at 380m, but pick your day, wear clothes you don’t mind getting muddy, take a stout stick and a friend and you will not be disappointed. This is a 10/10 walk!

PS Here is a link to the FB gallery of all the pictures I took