Saturday 18 March 2023

Kilantringan Bay

Kilantringan Bay has haunted my dreams for the best part of two decades. 

We'd driven to the lighthouse for sunset after the Stranraer half marathon. Ireland lay clear across the water, velvet on gold as the sun sank. The breeze whipped up a wee bit colder, sea air in our lungs, as the lighthouse above us began its revolutions. Away in Ireland, other headlands winked back. 

Leaving Kilantringan:

They say you should never go back. But I had a hankering to see Kilantringan Bay again after that magical first time. 

The weather today was not as fine as I had hoped. But we were here, and dressed for torrential rain.

With the tide half in, a simple walk on sand becomes an adventurous scramble up and down the craggy shoreline, the dog pathfinding.

Pathfinder pup:

Beachcoming over slippery seaweed, we found things washed up on the beach. A lifejacket. A lot of plastic. Mermaid's purses. (In reality, the eggs of shark and dogfish.)

Finally we made it to the beach. Thanks to the clouds, we couldn't see Ireland. But we'd had a scrambly adventure reaching this long-imagined spot and had the place to ourselves, gulls fleeing our approach. Maybe we'll come back on a day of sun-kissed promise. Today, we turned our faces into the rain and looked forward to drying out in our holiday cottage.

No comments: