Saturday June 8th
Patrick my nephew drove me to Castlederg to where he picked
me up yesterday. There was a long climb
out of the town, up and up and up for about four miles, a tough start to the
day. On the way up I passed a field with
flock of dark brown and black sheep. I
had never seen so many together before.
There was an expanse of bog cotton on my right. But mainly I just concentrated on getting to
the top. When I did eventually get up
there the view was marvellous. There was the whisper of gentle cool breeze form
the east. I could see for miles on every side as far as
the blue hazed mountain ranges and I counted seven wind farms. Below was a patchwork of fields, many framed
with white hawthorn blossom. All the way
down I could simply luxuriate in the exuberance of nature. It was a glorious morning to be walking this
little country road with very few vehicles, a blue sky and a far away contrail
in the clear sky from a single jet plane heading west to the USA or Canada. A
tinkling invisible stream accompanied me on the way down hidden by the surfeit
of growing things. At one place the
farmer had planted a hedge of purple rhododendrons for a few hundred
yards. It would have been a great improvement
if he had planted a greater variety of them flowering at different times and
maybe added a bit more interest with lilac and laburnum and such like. But I’ll give him credit for making the
effort even if it could have been much more imaginative. There were giant wild rhubarb plants with
their reddish brown and green stalks and all my usual friends many of which I
do not know their names – little blue flowers, white ones, robin-run-the-hedge,
nettles, lots of grasses, broome and as usual, whins. To paraphrase Hopkins, long live the weeds
and the wilderness yet.
I came to the little village of Clady and I was back on the
main road so that I had to concentrate on the vehicles coming towards me rather
than the sights and sounds around me.
The day had lost some of its magic.
Also it was getting to be a very hot day. I stopped before I reached Lifford because as
usual the toes on my right foot were crying out for attention. So I took of my shoes and socks by the side
of the road, had half my lunch and wrote a few notes. In Lifford I had a bowl of soup and coffee in
MacAuley’s café. Then on again to
Johnston (it is also spelt Johnstown on some of the sign posts). I chose a little used road rather than the
main one. After a few miles a man was
standing by the side of the road waiting for me. He had seen me back a bit. We chatted about my walk and he gave me a
donation. A little while later a car
stopped with a man and a woman. They
also gave me a donation. I came to
Maggie’s bar about 2 miles outside Saint Johnston and since my toes were
complaining again, I went in, had a shandy, rested and nursed my feet, had the
rest of my lunch and walked on to Saint Johnston. Phoned Patrick to come for me on the north
side of Saint Johnston. I am well ahead
of my schedule and looking forward to walking a bit less on each of the
remaining three days. It has been such a
hot day. As I write this I am now fresh
and clean having showered and on my second beer. I can smell the barbeque.
No comments:
Post a Comment