Portrush to the Bar Mouth and Back

I am a bit late getting this post up on the blog but no excuses I am a lazy blurt!

So.. this sunday Mr Clark and myself, (which reminds me I must apologise to his SWMBO  who is Julie Clark not CLARKE as previously stated in the last walkies post! – Sorry Julie), decided that it was time for a bit of a seaside dander so we walked from Portrush Harbour through Portstewart and out to the Bar Mouth where the River Bann hits the sea.

Ballyreagh Castle

Ballyreagh Castle

We started outside the Harbour Bar in Portrush and set off down the West Strand prom, under Barry’s amusements and then onto the coastal path that wanders on the top of the low cliffs that separate the two coastal towns. Over the now barely visible remains of Ballyreagh Castle the once sister castle to Dunluce to the east of Portrush.


Grave of an unknown sailor

On past the grave of an unknown and un-named sailor whose body ended up on the shore 100 feet away in the 1800’s. His last resting place is tucked away under the cliffs near Juniper hill and few if any people know he is there, it certainly came as a surprise to Andy who even though he is a local of many years standing had never heard of this wee grave monument.

It remains to this day well tended and looked after by someone. Then on and over the hill and down to Portstewart harbour and along the prom to the stairs that mark the start of the “Nuns Walk”


The Nun's Walk

The Nun's Walk

The Nun’s Walk is thus named because the big white castley building is a Dominican convent and in times gone by the path from the Prom to the beach was haunted by fearsome female’s dressed in full religious regalia casting disapproving looks at any passing teenager or be-sandaled hippy Protestant. Those times are long past although the name remains.

Then down to Port nah’aple an old salmon fishery and one of the places I and many of my

Port nah'aple

Port nah'aple

age learnt to swim, catch crabs and the odd flounder. Family friends lived just around the corner and many glorious summer days were spent in the rock pools and inlets of this bit of the coast.

The headland in the distance is the head land on which stands the enigmatic Mussenden Temple built by the slightly doolally Bishop of Derry and Earl of Bristol. Beyond that in the far distance is Donegal.

From there it is around by the site of the old Strand Hotel … OOOO if the rocks could talk the stories they could tell of nights of passion after the disco on the grassy hill leading down to the small cove.

The Strand Hotel and the Edgewater Hotel beside like my ability to disco dance all night and charm young ladies it is now long gone and worthy of only a short nostalgic pause before descending the stairs to the long stretch of sand that ends with the piers of the Bar Mouth. This is where the Bann , the river that bisects Norn Iron into a west and an eastern half. Living in the western half of the province like I do means that we get to look down on the folks that live in the eastern half who are all no better than they should be!

Reaching the wee white lighthouse on the end of the pier Mr Clark and I had a sit down, a coffee some sarnies and then we walked all the way back for a pint of Guinness in the Harbour Bar.

A route just short of 15 miles, very easy going yet blessed with wonderful views and I you are up this way well worth taking a couple of hours and doing some if not all of the walk.

HOWEVER could the scum-sucking-arse-chutney-oozing-brain-dead-bollockes that insist on dropping every wrapper, paper cup, crisp bag and fag packet on the ground even within 5 feet of a rubbish bin PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE STAY THE F**K AWAY! Thank you



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