Coastal Capers

The previous evening's sunshine gave way to rather murky weather the day after our visit to Derry, but at least it remained warm and dry, so we headed out along the coast to see Downhill Demesne and Mussenden Temple - a rather quirky spot on the coast. Downhill was the 18th century home of the Earl Bishop of Derry. He was both the Earl of Bristol and Bishop of Derry, a very wealthy man who had an interest in travel, science, the natural world and building. He chose this location to build a 'palace' - above the cliffs. Today the palace is a ruin so all that remains is the grounds, a mausoleum built for his brother and, most strikingly of all, a small circular building perched right on the cliff edge, called Mussenden Temple. This was completed in 1783 and was built for his niece, Frideswide Bruce as a library. Rumours of the day suggested he and his niece had a closer relationship than might have been considered proper for a bishop.

Mussenden Temple

Arriving at one of the entrances called the Lion Gate we worked our way through the gardens and across grassland to see the temple. It is a compact structure but sits precariously close the the cliff edge. To the east is Benone beach which stretches off for miles and to the west is a small seaside resort called Castlerock. 

The view of Benone Beach from Mussenden Temple

Perches on the cliff edge

On a clear day one can imagine the views would be far reaching but on a murky day we had to rely on imagination alone as it was clear the mist wasn't going to lift anytime soon.

Set back a little way from the cliff is the ruin of the house - once a grand home but now sadly a shell. It was sold off by the family in the 1920's and in 1941 was requisitioned by the Air Ministry but after the war the new owner stripped it out and left it as a ruin. We walked through the shell conjuring up images of what it must have looked like in its prime and carried on the the mausoleum built in direct line of sight of the front entrance - for Earl Bishop's brother, George Hervey who apparently never even visited Ireland.

Downhill Palace as it is now..

The Mausoleum

It was an interesting insight into the life of an unusual bishop - apparently at one point he said he was agnostic - who would probably have made an excellent dining companion.

After this I took Mrs B to one of those out of the way places I'm prone to visit during my travels. Magilligan Point lies at the end of a peninsula in the northwest of County Londonderry and overlooks Lough Foyle and across the water to the shores of County Donegal in the Republic. The journey there took us along a coastal plain with ancient sea cliffs to the south and coastal dunes to the north. It all had the feel of a slightly desolate place, not often visited, and then around a bend there were high concrete walls, razor wire and other clues to suggest visitors were not welcome and a sigh indicating it was a Defense Research Establishment. Literally next door was a prison, HMP HMP Magilligan. I suspect the remoteness and proximity to a MOD live firing zone discourages any prisoners from going walkabout.

Magilligan Point itself consisted of a small ferry terminal that goes from Northern Ireland across Lough Foyle to the Republic, a pub, a row of modern terraced houses with brightly coloured doors and, nestled in the dunes a Martello Tower that dates back to 1812.

The beach stretched away for miles but any long distance walking is fraught with risk - as red flags and warning signs discourage this. We walked a little way along the beach - with not a soul around - before returning to the car and taking a leisurely drive back to our cottage for lunch. 

The deserted beach at Magilligan Point

In the afternoon Mrs B wanted to read and so I decided to head east of Ballycastle to walk on Fairhead (or Benmore) a sea cliff that's 5 km long that juts out dramatically into the Sea of Moyle, 196 metres above the sea. The rock is dolorite and apparently its a favourite place for climbers. I'd found a circular walk that would take me along the cliff edge so after finding a car park, essentially a farm yard, I put on my boots and set off to explore. Before leaving the car park I read a couple of information boards. One was about the history, mythology and geology of the area and another revealed Fairhead was another Game of Thrones filming location, doubling up as ' Dragonstone Cliffs'. Earlier pre Christian Irish mythology associated with Fairhead relates the tale of the Children of Lir who were cast under a spell by an evil witch and turned into swans condemned to stay that way for 900 years. It was clearly a landscape that inspired stories old and new.

A lane led to a stile from which a path went gradually uphill, over tussocky grass. The cloud had lifted slightly and as I paused to take in the views looking back I could see Ballycastle with signs of some watery sun breaking through.

Continuing on the path took me close to the edge with sheer drops but way markers at regular points made route finding easy enough The ground was now moorland, with heather and lots of rocks, some required a bit of clambering up and down to keep on the path but the views opened up and Raithlin Island, just off shore, came into view. 

Views of Raithlin Island from Fairhead

Close to the edge....

The path carried on along the cliff top eventually reaching the highest point with plenty of vertiginous views along the way.

After a couple of miles or Murlough Bay came into view a green oasis in a landscape of rock and heather.

Murlough Bay from Fairhead

Inland a small lake with an island in the middle was visible, Lough na Cranagh Crannog. A crannog is a manmade island and this one is probably a 1000 years old, built as a defensive home for the pre-Christian people who lived there.

Lough na Cranagh Crannog

Eventually I turned inland heading back towards the car, passing through a hamlet of whitewashed cottages and winding my way through lanes of wild fuchsia hedge to the carpark - where over the wall I spotted 5 sheep standing in a line as if queuing for something - they stayed there the whole time while I took my boots off - and were still there when I left to head for Ballycastle to collect some fish and chips for our evening meal.

Although we had visited Port Stewart a few days previously we hadn't been to Port Stewart Strand - the 2 mile long beach just on the edge of the town. Its another beauty of a beach, backed by dunes and looked after by the National Trust. After breakfast the following day we set off to walk the beach but detoured on route to have a quick walk around Bushmills. This small town is synonymous with Irish Whiskey - a large distillery dominates the town. Historically Bushmills was established by Ulster Scots and this heritage is visible - as seen by a sign in the fish and chip shop on the main street.

I had expected Bushmills to be reasonably prosperous with the distillery acting as a tourist attraction but in truth the town was depressed and depressing. We found a pleasant enough riverside walk but the distillery wasn't doing tours and there wasn't much else to detain the casual visitor so we carried on the the beach as planned.

Parking at Port Stewart Strand was very straight forward, you drive onto the beach and park up! We then just set off towards the far end of the beach, a couple of miles distant, on flat golden sand, with the sound of gulls and oystercatchers and the sight of the occasional excited dog running across the sands. 

Mrs B. at Port Stewart Strand

At the far end of the beach is the Foyle estuary which acted as a logical end to the walk - to continue would have meant a swim. Turning around we headed back towards the car, invigorated by the sea air, and sufficiently hungry to want to find a cafe in Port Stewart for lunch. Lunch taken we were tempted by another Morelli gelato - still excellent!

Our coastal exploring continued in the afternoon. At Port Ballintrae we beachcombed on a small beach covered in rock pools with a large sea bird colony on a rock just 30 metres from the shore and around the corner found Runkerry Beach accessed from a coastal path that crossed a river before reaching a mile of more golden sand. The surf was quite high and we watched a couple of intrepid surfers take to the water and ride the waves. 

Port Ballintrae

Runkerry Beach

Our last little stop on the way back to the cottage was to Dunseverick Castle, or what remains of it. Perched on the cliff top all that's left to see is the gatehouse of a castle that dates back to the 5th century, home to former kings of Ireland. It was captured and demolished by Cromwell's troops in 1642 and little is now left but its certainly a dramatic setting.

The dramatic ruin of Dunseverick Castle

Unfortunately the weather forecast for our penultimate day in Northern Ireland was grim. Heavy rain was due to arrive mid morning so we didn't think it worth travelling far. Our nearest seaside town Ballycastle was only 2 miles away and, as we hadn't really looked around it, we thought we'd drive down to the harbour and have a little walk to explore. It was a quiet Friday morning - with not many people down by the sea front - and the only thing of note was a Tayto lorry making a delivery.

I haven't seen Tayto's on sale in England - they are however an Irish staple. The company is based in Northern Ireland and clearly popular both sides of the Irish border. It was good to see Ballycastle wasn't going to run short of supplies. Walking up the main street was interesting - there were empty shops but also some brightly painted buildings and a heritage trail.

Ballycastle main street

Like many towns Ballycastle is clearly facing economic challenges but is trying to keep its head above water. We followed a riverside trail by the Glenshesk River crossing a footbridge to walk out beyond the golf course and past the attractive sign that welcomes you to the town until be got to the ruins of Bonamargy Friary.

Glenshesk River

Welcome to Ballycastle!

Bonamargy was a Franciscan friary that dates back to around 1500 and fell into disrepair in the 1700s. Its most notable resident was Julia McQuillan otherwise known as the Black Nun, apparently something of a recluse and prophetess known for foretelling calamitous events. She is supposed to have died on the east stairs and still haunts them. We didn't see any apparitions but did find her gravestone, an unusual circular stone cross, now heavily weathered by the west doorway. 

The remains of Bonamargy Friary

The Black Nun's gravestone

We walked back to the car across the beach and made it back just before it started to rain and hightailed it back to our cottage. Later in the afternoon I did a short walk through dunes following the Causeway Coastal path and unexpectedly saw the heritage railway in operation that runs between Bushmills and the Giants Causeway, built on the route of an earlier Victorian electric tramway. I assumed it wasn't going to be running on a damp Friday afternoon and it didn't look to have any passengers. The driver/conductor seemed less than thrilled to heading back to Bushmills.

Giants Causeway & Bushmills Heritage Railway

That evening it was time to start packing our bags and rucksacks in preparation for departure from our cottage the following morning. Despite the cloudy and changeable weather we had found the Antrim coast to be wild and beautiful. As seasoned travellers we've got packing up and moving on down to a fine art and wanted to make a prompt getaway the following day so we could enjoy the most of our last full day in Northern Ireland meandering between places along the coast before catching a ferry back to Scotland.