nowhere near Giant enough

Day 8: Portrush to Ballycastle

Distance: 23.7 miles (171.2 total)

Total ascent: 1,797ft (12,378 total)

Time: 10 hrs 1 min

Tomorrow: Ballycastle to Cushandell (est 17.3 miles)

Okay, so let's begin straight out with the elephant in the room. As those of you who have been following on Instagram will already know, I am the man who added eight miles to an already fairly long walk for the specific purpose of seeing The Giants Causeway... and somehow managed to walk right past it. I know. Let that sink in. It happened about nine hours ago and it still hasn't sunk in with me. I do remember one point on the coastal path where these two American guys were looking down at the bay below with an expression that bordered on reverence; I peeked down and didn't see anything to write home about, and not wanting to interrupt their reverie I strolled on. It was a couple of miles further along the path when I saw a sign pointing to The Giants Causeway, and it was pointing back in the direction I'd come from. It was too long a day for doubling back on myself so I just had to keep on going. How did I miss a World Heritage Site? Mind you, I've never been that impressed by Stonehenge either, so maybe it's just me.

Like yesterday, today's walk fell rather neatly into three sections. The day began and ended with several miles of road walking. The first section was entirely pavemented, so I didn't have to slow down or stop every time a car went past. The final section had no pavements, but it had virtually no cars either, so the walk into Ballycastle was really lovely. I headed out walking into the sunrise, and headed home with the sun setting behind me. The middle third of the walk was the marvellous coastal path from Bushmills (no, I didn't visit the distillery, I was in a hurry to get to The Giant's Causeway) all the way to Portbradden Harbour. Having grumbled about the lack of off-road walking I've been getting, this was just heaven. The first half was fairly easy going, the second half a little more challenging but nothing too onerous. The views throughout were stunning with the blue sky illuminating the sea; the coast being punctuated throughout with dramatic rocky outcrops. I did, however, make pretty slow progress for some parts of the coastal path and when I got to Afternoon Prayer at 3pm, there was still over eight miles to go, which is more than I'd have liked at that point. I shamefacedly confess that I did, briefly, toy with the temptation of getting a bus. In the end I made slow but sure progress to Ballycastle and supper at O'Connor's Bar.

It was tough going at times today and I'm getting increasingly tired, and increasingly slow to get going in the morning. I'm glad that it's a shorter day tomorrow and that I've got a hike-free day coming up when I get the ferry from Belfast to Stranraer.

A lot of my thinking about St Columba and the other great Celtic Saints, has been focused on their fortitude, their faithfulness, their endurance. I've been thinking too about the ways in which a pilgrimage is supposed to be hard, it's supposed to be challenging. I guess that there's a lot that appeals to me about all that at the moment: St Columba sleeping with a stone as his pillow, all the Celtic Saints praying the Psalms up to their neck in the freezing sea, Harry Lauder singing 'Keep Right on to the End of the Road', and so on and so forth. That narrative of life as struggle and managing to endure certainly has its allure. But I'm a bit over struggling and enduring. I know that has to be part of life, but I'm not sure I want it to be the lens through which I see life day after day after day.

When I was in Derry I visited the St Colmcille (Columba!) Heritage Centre at the Long Tower Church. In their collection they have a facsimile of The Book of Kells. The wonderful illuminated manuscripts created by many of the great Celtic monasteries highlight another dimension to the lives of these Christians. Alongside all the hardship and austerity, there was also a great creativity, a playfulness; the manuscripts have such enduring beauty, and also mischief, little visual jokes. There is a profound effervescence about these texts. Both St Columba and St Bridget are patron saints of poets. Life is not meant to be lived entirely in prose.

Jesus told His followers that one way to learn about God was to 'consider the lillies'. Well you 'consider' lillies by stopping, by really looking at them, by absorbing and giving thanks for their colour, their texture, their fragrance. The God of our struggles is also the God of our joys and delights.

______________________________________________________

Thanksgiving: for life.